Page 6 of The Lady’s No Angel

“The next place we see, then. If it’s respectable,” Milly said with a nod.

With this settled, they carried on, hoping at each turn to see a welcoming inn. Instead, it began to rain. Milly and Angel huddled together stoically under the hood as Toby retreated beneath the massive oilskin coat. The pony plodded on, strong and dependable, his big hooves splashing mud as the rain fell harder.

The gig gave a sudden lurch to the left and came to a stop.

Milly gasped and glanced at Angel in alarm. Trying not to panic, Angel told the pony to walk on. The obliging thing tried, but the road here was nothing but thick mud and the wheels were well and truly stuck.

“Devil take it!” Angel cried furiously, gazing over the side of the gig in despair.

“We’ll get out. Lighten the load,” Milly said, pulling a face as she too peered at the ground beneath them. “Lawks, it’s a sea of mud.”

Angel nodded. “Sorry, Milly. Get Toby to go to the pony’s head and lead him.”

Half an hour later and all three of them were ankle deep in the filth.

Angel’s feet were sodden and so cold she could no longer feel her toes. No matter how they pushed and pulled, the gig was stuck fast. She wanted to weep with frustration, but as that would solve nothing, she gritted her teeth and tried to think of a solution.

First, they tried collecting stones and shoving them beneath the wheels. This got them about two feet farther on before the cart stuck fast once more. Next, they tried breaking off small branches and laying them across the ground, but this got them nowhere. Angel cursed herself for not having the forethought to have brought a shovel with her. Jack would be disappointed in her she thought morosely.

Really, there was only one thing for it. They’d have to find help. A farmer, perhaps, with a sturdy plough horse. Oh, why did fate have to make everything so wretchedly difficult? Why, for once, couldn’t she —

“Oh ho! You seem to be in something of a pickle? Might I be of assistance?”

As one, the three of them turned towards the deep, rumbling voice. As one, they gasped.

Angel strongly doubted that Toby gasped for the same reasons they did, but the sight of the handsome stranger sitting atop a massive bay horse was enough to make anyone stare. Certainly, enough to make a girl’s heart thud a deal too rapidly as she took in massive shoulders, a face that was all firm lines and square jaw, and eyes that twinkled with merriment.

“Heaven have mercy,” Milly whispered, her hand covering her heart.

Angel suspected heaven had little to do with it, as a fellow who looked like that was probably a devilish lot of trouble. Still, she was not so daft as to look a gift horse in the mouth. She was horribly aware of how much time they’d already lost, and that there were bound to be people looking for her… assuming her father wanted to pay to get her back.

Her one advantage was that her parents would assume she’d have taken the stagecoach from Rye. They’d never believe her mad enough to buy a gig and drive herself. They’d have no notion of how much pin money she’d accumulated over the years, nor of all the coins slipped to her by her doting Pops.

“Oh, yes, sir,” Angel said, moving as if she would hurry closer but impeded by the mud that sucked at her foot, refusing to release her. She grimaced and glanced back up at him, too aware of what a shockingly disordered picture she must make. “I’m afraid we are stuck fast.”

“Well, let’s see what we can do, then,” he said cheerfully, swinging down from his mount, heedless of the mud his beautifully polished boots sank into, even as it spattered his buckskin breeches.

Angel tried not to stare, but those breeches clung lovingly to powerfully muscular thighs of a kind she had never seen before. The man was built like an oak tree.

The fellow ushered Angel and Milly out of the way and sent Toby back to the pony’s head. Then he took his place behind the carriage and pushed.

“We’ve already tried tha—” Angel began, a little impatient that he should think them so foolish, when the gig lurched forward and the pony walked on.

“Huzzah!” Toby exclaimed.

Angel laughed, too delighted not to, as the fellow squelched around to stand beside her. He grinned, looking immensely pleased with himself.

“I don’t know how to thank you, sir. You’ve been so very kind.”

“Well, if you’ll be so good as to take a meal with me, I’d consider that payment enough,” he said, running a hand through his tousled brown hair and giving her the benefit of a dangerously disarming smile.

Angel reeled a little, somewhat dazed by its impact. “Oh, as for that. I don’t think—” she began, for whilst she cared little for propriety, sharing a meal with a man they’d just met did not seem the most sensible of ideas.

That she was about to refuse him must have been obvious, for he spoke over her, trying to dispel any reservations before she could voice them.

“All of you, I mean, as my guests. That is assuming you’ve not eaten already?” he asked, looking a little crestfallen at the idea they still might reject his kind offer.

At this opportune moment, Milly’s stomach gave a loud, insistent gurgle. Mortified, Milly slapped a hand over it and blushed scarlet.