“I suppose I had better give you a ride,” the stranger suggested. “It would be the gentlemanly thing to do. Never let it be said that a Colfax behaved as anything less than a gentleman.”
He bowed and swept an arm towards the waiting coach. “Will it please you to step into my carriage, ma’am?” It would have been a more impressive gesture if he had not been so wobbly.
Lucy drew a deep breath, preparing to politely reject his offer. Not only was he a stranger, but he was drunk. True, he did not seem either violent or lecherous in his drunkenness—she had certainly encountered enough of the latter to recognize it. But she would be a fool to trust him.
Before she said a word, a gust of wind nearly yanked her bonnet off. When a rain drop landed on the tip of her nose, she began to waver. She did not relish a long walk in the rain. Her blistered foot stung, and her arms ached from lugging her valise.
“Well?” the stranger prompted. “Your carriage awaits, but it won’t await forever. Do you prefer to haunt the crossroad by your lonesome?” He cocked his head to one side. “Perhaps you are waiting for someone else?”
Lucy flinched, jolted by a new fear. Until now, she hadn’t considered the possibility that someone else might come along. Where there was one late-night traveler, there might be more. What if the next person to accost her was less polite than this one? Or more violent?
Better the devil you know, as the saying went. She hefted her valise, ignoring complaints from sore muscles. “Thank you, sir.” Her polite confidence would have done her mother proud.
She followed the stranger to the open door of the coach, where a groom stood waiting. It looked like the groom wore livery, though it was too dark to be certain. Her rescuer must be well-off.
For a moment, that reassured Lucy, until she reminded herself that wealth was no guarantee of good behavior. Far fromit. The worst harassment she’d ever experienced had come from so-called gentlemen.
She hesitated, one foot on the carriage step, one foot on the ground. It was not too late to turn back.
“Something wrong, miss?” The groom spoke so softly, Lucy doubted the gentleman behind her overheard.
“I am fine, thank you,” she whispered back. But she took heart at the groom’s concern. Maybe she would have an ally in him if something went wrong. She drew a deep breath and stepped into the carriage.
Lucy automatically took the rear-facing bench; years of serving as a companion had ingrained the habit. She settled her skirts and awaited her fate.
Chapter Two
When he wasthree sheets to the wind, Devlin Colfax could sleep anywhere: a theater box, an armchair, even a patch of floor in the corner of someone’s card room. He was, therefore, not terribly surprised to wake up and discover that he’d fallen asleep during the ride home.
The surprise was that he did not wake up alone. The flickering carriage lights revealed a strange woman sharing his carriage. He rubbed his eyes, shook his head, and looked again. She was still there.
Come to think of it, he had a vague memory of ordering Wragge to stop the carriage so he could talk to someone by the side of the road. He’d stood in the middle of the road talking for a while, hadn’t he? But he could not recall the conversation.
“I beg your pardon, ma’am,” Dev said. “But I am afraid my wits are temporarily scattered. Would you remind me how we know each other?”
“We do not know each other,” she replied.
Her crisp voice called up a mental image of a governess. But that was so implausible that Dev immediately banished the picture. If he’d picked up a stranger by the side of the road, she was more likely to be a doxy.
Dev waited for her to elaborate, but she remained silent. “If we do not know each other, why did I bring you home with me?”he asked. A terrible suspicion struck him. Just how drunk had he been? “I didn’t kidnap you, did I? If so, I am very sorry.”
He hadn’t done anything like that since his university days, and even then, he would never have abducted astranger. One could only play that sort of prank on one’s bosom friends.
“What do you mean, bring mehome?” She sounded more nervous now. “Do you live in Knightsford, then?”
“Knightsford?” Devlin peered out the window. To his relief, he saw the familiar bulk of Hethersleigh. A light still burned in the entryway, and a candle twinkled in his bedroom window.
Dev turned back to his mystery guest. “No, we’re well past Knightsford. This is Hethersleigh, ma’am. Home of the Colfax family for more generations than I can count.”
“What?” She peered out the window, too. “But you promised to take me to Knightsford!” She fell silent as she stared up at the looming pile.
Devlin sighed. Not a kidnapping, then, but still a huge mistake. “I am afraid I don’t remember that. It is possible that the coachman mistook my directions.”
More likely, he misdirected Wragge. Dev wasn’t known for giving clear instructions when foxed.
“I am very sorry, but such mistakes do happen.” Especially to men who spent hours drinking with their cronies and complaining about their lives. Why on earth did Reynolds and Cholmondeley put up with his whining?
“What am I going to do?” the stranger fretted. “This is terrible.”
