She pulled ahead, but Blake was close behind her. The wind whipped at his face, tugging at his cloak. His heart pounded as he urged the stallion to catch up with her.
She is a very skilled rider.
He watched as her mare jumped over a bush. He followed suit, still tailing her. Jane’s hair was loose and fluttered behind her in the wind, practically glowing in the sunlight.
He leaned in closer to his horse, urging it to go faster. They wove through trees and plants. Sometimes he pulled ahead, but Jane soon caught up to him. At last, he saw the glade in the distance.
They were neck and neck. Blake turned to Jane and called out over the wind, “Any other tricks up your sleeve?”
“Do you really expect me to tell you?”
“Not really. But a man can have hope.”
“He can. And he can lose it too.”
They raced towards the glade, each urging their horse as fast as they dared. His horse was a nose ahead, then Jane’s was. She pulled ahead, racing into the clearing just ahead of him.
She slowed her mare down, her eyes bright and full of excitement. She faced him and pointed to the ground.
“My prize,” Jane said.
“Are you sure you would not rather have another prize? Perhaps I could prostrate myself on the ground before you and proclaim you a goddess,” Blake offered, feeling a stab of nerves in his chest.
Jane shook her head. “Do not think you can weasel your way out of this. If I have to read Byron, then you must answer my question. And answer it truthfully.”
“And how will you know I have done so?” Blake asked, hoping to goad her.
“I suppose I will just have to trust you.” Jane shrugged.
“And do you?” Blake raised an eyebrow at her.
“In this instance, yes,” Jane answered, taking him by surprise.
He just managed to stop himself from gaping. Instead, he surveyed her thoughtfully. Even more surprising was the fact that he realized he did not want to lie to her.
“You agreed to the terms,” Jane pointed out, clearly unmoved.
“I suppose I did.” Blake nodded and slid down from his horse, guiding the creature to a patch of grass and tying it to a nearby tree. “I could do with a small rest—we might as well dismount and give the horses a chance to recover.”
He held out a hand to Jane, half expecting her to refuse. For a moment, she looked as though she might, but then she took his hand and allowed him to help her dismount.
She withdrew her hand, and he felt an odd sense of loss. He clenched and unclenched his fist almost without thinking. There was a pause as Jane tied her mare to a nearby stump.
“Very well. I am a man of my word. Ask your question.” Blake sighed as he leaned against a nearby tree, glancing up at Jane.
For several moments, Jane said nothing. Blake felt the tension swell within him. He tried to guess what she might ask him but found he could not think of anything.
There was something about the way she was looking at him that made him feel as though he were being assessed somehow.
“Am I such an open book that you cannot even think of one thing to ask me? Or is it that there is so much you wish to know about me that you cannot possibly only pick one question.” He winked at her, hoping to ease the rising tension in his chest.
“It truly is a wonder your horse can support the weight of your ego.” Jane shook her head, but no question was forthcoming.
As the minutes ticked by, Blake’s feeling of being scrutinized only intensified.
When was the last time someone looked at me like this?
After a while, Jane looked at him, and her question took him by surprise. “Why do you call yourself Blake?”
