They Dared the Maid to Ride the Duke’s Wildest Stallion—She Shocked Everyone by Riding It Bareback
Chapter 4
They reached the hill beyond the orchard.
Thunder slowed.
Eleanor sat upright.
She could hear the distant bells from the village church.
Below them stood Blackwood Manor, its gray stone walls surrounded by autumn trees.
She looked down at Thunder.
His sides rose and fell.
“You are beautiful,” she whispered.
The stallion lowered his head.
Eleanor smiled.
Then she noticed blood on his shoulder.
She immediately dismounted.
A long scratch ran beneath the saddle line.
Someone had been riding him despite his wounds.
Eleanor touched the injury.
Thunder flinched.
She understood.
Someone had forced him to perform.
Someone had ignored his pain.
That was why he fought.
When Eleanor returned to the manor, the courtyard erupted in voices.
Lord Edmund approached her.
“You could have been killed.”
Eleanor handed him the reins.
“He could have been killed.”
Edmund stared at her.
“What?”
“His shoulder is injured.”
“That is not the point.”
“It is exactly the point.”
She walked toward the stable.
Lord Edmund followed.
“You embarrassed me.”
“I did not intend to.”
“You made me look foolish before my guests.”
Eleanor turned.
“My lord, you wagered money that I would fail.”
“You were supposed to fail.”
She said nothing.
That answer told her everything.
Edmund had not merely wanted entertainment.
He wanted humiliation.
Perhaps hers.
Perhaps Thunder’s.
Perhaps both.
Before Eleanor could answer, another voice came from behind them.
“Why is my stable in disorder?”
Everyone froze.
The Duke of Blackwood had arrived.
His name was Alexander Blackwood.
He was thirty-one, tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in a dark riding coat still wet from the morning mist.
His face was calm.
Too calm.
His gaze moved across the courtyard.
Broken bucket.
Open stall.
Loose saddle.
Mud-covered gentlemen.
Then Thunder.
Then Eleanor.
He stopped.
“Who rode my horse?”
Lord Edmund stepped forward.
“I arranged a little challenge.”
The duke’s eyes hardened.
“With my horse?”
“It was only sport.”
Alexander looked at Thunder.
Then at Eleanor.
“Did you ride him?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Bareback?”
“Yes.”
His expression revealed nothing.
“Why?”
Eleanor hesitated.
“Because he would not accept a saddle.”
The duke looked at Thunder.
Then he noticed the blood on the horse’s shoulder.
His face changed.
“Who injured him?”
Silence.
Alexander looked at his cousin.
“Edmund.”
“I did nothing.”
“Who rode him last?”
Edmund looked away.
The duke turned to the stable master.
“Bring me the riding records.”
The stable master swallowed.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Alexander walked toward Thunder.
The stallion immediately backed away.
Eleanor noticed.
The duke noticed too.
He stopped.
Then he looked at her.
“You said he would not accept a saddle.”
“Yes.”
“And yet you rode him.”
“He allowed me.”
Alexander studied her for a long moment.
Then he said quietly:
“Perhaps you should tell me why.”
