Page 49 of Outrageous

Chapter 10

Something hard and hot slammed against Eva, and strong arms closed around her middle, which was when she realized she was no longer in her seat.

“Eva? Are you hurt?” Godric asked.

She shook her head, her heart lodged in the vicinity of her throat, and he shifted her until she was sitting sideways in his lap. The angle was odd because the carriage was so tilted it was almost on its side. The window had cracked from the impact, and rain was dripping on his hatless head, his golden hair mussed and wet, his brow furrowed with concern as he squinted down at her. “Does anything hurt?”

“No.” Her voice was hoarse, as if she’d been screaming.

“I’m going to open the door and see what is going on.” He lifted her with an ease that left her mouth dry. His body, she knew from last night, was corded with muscles and now she’d felt their power.

He picked his overcoat up from the floor. “I’m going to cover you with this so you don’t get broken glass on you.”

Eva nodded and was engulfed in darkness.

“I’ll not be long,” he promised, and she felt the carriage shift and heard the sound of tinkling glass. She waited a moment and then carefully lifted the coat. The rain fell so heavily it was as if a bucket had been upended over her head. She burrowed back under the wool barrier and tried to steady her pounding heart.

As inconceivable as it was, she was more shaken by her brief physical contact with Godric than her brush with death. Although that might be exaggerating matters, it was possible she might have been injured.

“Eva?”

She moved the coat aside slightly and looked up. He’d opened the door and was leaning through, holding out a hand. “Shake the glass off the coat and then hand it to me.” When she had, he tossed it over one shoulder and held out both hands. “Take my hands.”

Eva reached out, realizing only when she felt the warm damp leather of his gloves that she’d taken off her own earlier.

He lifted her with ease, the rain pelting down on her as he raised her from the confines of the carriage and then set her carefully on the ground before holding the coat over her, sheltering her.

She was staring up into his darkened eyes, and he down into hers, when somebody cleared his throat. They both turned to find one of the postilions. “We’re ready, sir.”

Godric nodded and then explained to her, “One of the wheels broke just before the carriage hit the ditch.”

“The horses—”

“Are fine.” His lips curved into a smile—different from his usual smirk. “The lads are going to ride them to the next village and bring back help.”

Eva wanted to say she could ride one of the leaders but knew that wasn’t true. The postilions wore special wooden boots to avoid having their legs crushed; it would be foolish to ride the horses without such protection.

“What are we going to do?”

He leaned closer and said, “Once they’ve gone we’ll get out your other clothes and you can put them on—you’ll need top boots to walk in all this muck,” he said in response to her look of surprise. “When you’re dressed, we might as well follow them as the carriage offers no protection in its present condition.”

Eva nodded.

“You can go,” Godric said to the waiting men, who wore oiled slickers that made them look just like seals.

“Aye, my lord. We’ll be quick about it.”

Godric waited until they’d cantered off before turning to her. “I’ll fetch the bag from the boot.”

When he returned, he balanced the new leather bag—which he must have bought in Doncaster along with their clothing—on the side of the carriage and handed Eva her breeches first.

She held them a moment, staring at her hands.

“I won’t look.”

Eva heard the amusement in his voice and it prodded her just as she suspected he knew it would.

It was an arduous, damp, miserable process, but at the end of it Eva was wearing breeches, warm boots, three coats—her waistcoat, clawhammer, and drab benjamin—a shirt, stiff new York tan gloves, and a neckcloth tied sloppily around her throat.