Another low curse left Edward as he stepped away from my side. Regardless, his tight smile stretched wide.
Clutching my new book, I studied the embossed cover, my thoughts tangled from all that had just occurred. Edward’s stiff manner, Lord Chudley’s unexpected charm, and the pointed attention of Mr. Statton.
I barely noticed the sounds of London clamoring all around: hoofbeats, hawkers, a distant church bell. My fingers traced the ridges along the spine as I tried to collect my composure while I waited. Edward remained in the shop’s doorway, a wall between me and the gentlemen.
Why must he act so overbearingly protective? His companions were not the ogres I first assumed.
As if the day weren’t complicated enough with that ridiculous dinner planned for this evening. I despised how my every step seemed orchestrated, including this upcoming marriage.
My grip tightened on the book. I was determined to be late for said dinner.
Lord Chudley glanced back in my direction and smiled, and something about the way his gaze settled on me left a flutter in my stomach. I pivoted, suddenly aware of how warm my cheeks had grown at being caught staring.
If this was flirting...
Even so, I couldn’t help but smile in return as I waited at the edge of the street.
The clatter of hooves and the roar of wheels snapped me back to reality. A shout echoed.
“Miss, watch out!”
Before I could react, a hard arm hooked around my waist and yanked me back as a black carriage thundered past, missing my nose by mere inches. I gasped, my heart leaping into my throat as a man spun me around and caught me in his steady grip.
To my horror, my book slipped out of my grasp and tumbled into the mucky street where other carriages and wagons rattled, oblivious to the near accident.
“Sir! Release me at once! My book fell in the street.”
“Ladies first. Books second,” the stranger answered as he set me on the pavement running outside the bookstore.
“Good heavens, I just purchased the latest copy of Herschel’s catalogue and now it will be—Oh!” I covered my mouth in horror as a barouche raced past, the young buck driving it laughing wildly. Mud sprayed as the wheels hit all the puddles collecting at the edge of the street.
“One moment.” With long-legged steps, my rescuer reached for the book, which had landed in such a way that the covers provided some protection against the elements. He picked it up and whipped out a white handkerchief and mopped at it, his frown only deepening.
“I fear I am making matters worse,” he admitted ruefully as he returned to my side. “Are all Englishmen such fiendish drivers that they would run over a lady?”
A crash occurred at the end of the street, followed by hollering and shouts. The dandy in the barouche had collided with a farm wagon previously loaded with produce, and matters were fast approaching fisticuffs.
“That could have been you,” the stranger warned when he handed the book to me, wrapped now in his voluminous handkerchief of silk.
I blinked. He wore his dark brown hair tied back in an unfashionable queue, and his sun-bronzed skin, uncommon in the streets of London, caught my eye. Sharp cheekbones and a crooked nose—as if it had been broken once—drew my gaze downward to a mouth that quirked at my perusal.
There was something almost... dangerous about him with that rakish lock of hair tumbling over his forehead, yet his hold had felt protective.
He smelled of spice and tobacco, and something I didn’t want to name. Trouble, most likely. His eyes, the color of a slate sky, met mine for the briefest moment before he glanced away as if he had overstepped all sense of propriety.
“I... Thank you,” I managed, still dazed from the near accident and his sudden presence. “I didn’t see—”
“It’s nothing,” he interrupted, his voice deep. His gaze flickered, and I thought I saw a hint of recognition as he studied my face, which surely was my overactive imagination. “Be careful, miss. Everyone seems to be in a hurry in London.”
I wanted to ask his name, but the words seemed stuck in my throat. He gave a polite nod, turned on his heel, and disappeared into the busy street, leaving me standing in the wake of his rescue. I watched him go, frowning in confusion as I pinned my book beneath my arm.
Before I could puzzle over it any further, Edward’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Kitty? Are you all right?”
I turned to see him beside me, followed by Lord Chudley and Mr. Statton. Lord Chudley reached my side, his hand outstretched.
“You narrowly missed that carriage! I saw the driver swerve at the last minute, colliding with a wagon, and if that man hadn’t pulled you out of harm’s way, you would have been crushed,” my brother exclaimed.
I nodded, my heart still hammering in my throat.
