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“Alexandra, Alexandra!” Evan shook the woman gently, and then not so gently, gripping her shoulders like a vise. “Wake up! Please!”
She’d been thrown against the side of the carriage when it toppled, but she was breathing, and he thanked God for that. Poor John had been thrown much farther outside and hadn’t fared as well. A good man, John, and he deserved better in life than to have it ended because a horse got struck by lightning. What were the chances? Thor was comatose. Poor beast. Evan’s heart broke for the horse, but he could do nothing. His first priority was Alexandra.
They’d driven off the road and into the countryside. John had clearly lost control of the horses. The road was no longer visible, no doubt only because of the rain and fog. At least Evan hoped that was the case.
No sooner had Evan unharnessed Odin than he galloped away, whinnying. The poor thing was petrified. Evan hoped the horse could find shelter when he calmed down.
Evan had laid Alexandra in the shelter of the toppled coach. His head hurt, and he felt a bit woozy, but all in all he was in decent shape. Alexandra didn’t appear to be hurt. Perhaps she just had the wind knocked out of her. His father would never forgive him if something happened to either of Iris’s girls.
At least she was somewhat protected from the pelting rain. He continued to try to rouse her while watching for anyone else to come down the road to help them. Minutes ticked by and no one came. Most had more sense than to come out in this mess.
The storm had come out of nowhere. What had started as the gentle pitter-patter of rain had turned violent in what seemed like no time at all.
“Alexandra, please wake up.” He shook her again.
Even with her hair and clothes in disarray and wet from the rain, the woman was a beautiful sight. Her chestnut hair, having come loose from its bun, fell in waves against her tan traveling clothes.
“Please,” he said again, his heart pounding. “You’ve got to be all right.”
Her ruby-red lips twitched.
“Alexandra? Can you hear me?”
Her eyes fluttered open. “Wha— What happened?”
“A carriage accident. Are you all right? Do you hurt?”
She gulped. “I… I believe I’m… I don’t know.”
Confusion. Well, of course, that was inevitable. “We need to find some shelter. Can you get up? Can you walk?” He stood to help her.
When she put his hand in hers, a tingle shot through him. Odd, and definitely no time for that now. He pulled her to her feet, and she fell against his soaked clothes.
“Who? What are we doing here?”
“It’s me, Evan, and we’ve had an accident. One of the horses was struck by lightning. Come now, we need to go. Can you walk?”
“Yes, Evan. I will try.”
Her strength humbled him. She was no pampered daughter of an aristocrat, even though she was indeed born the daughter of a Scottish earl. From the little he knew, her father had been abusive to her, her sister, and her mother for most of their lives and had left them in near poverty.
She sank against him as they walked toward the road, or at least his best guess as to which way the road was. The fog was thick as night, and the rain still pelted them like stinging needles. They weren’t too far out of Wiltshire yet. Surely they could find shelter somewhere.
Alexandra grew steadier, though she still gripped his arm as she rallied forward, never once complaining. Her will fascinated him. But then, she had grown up with a tyrant. No doubt her will had come in handy.
After what seemed like several hours, an image emerged in the distance. A shed, perhaps? Or a cabin? Evan wasn’t sure. The ground under his feet was soggy, and he didn’t know whether he’d ever found the road. They could be anywhere.
His heart thudded against his sternum. He had to find safety. Alexandra was his responsibility, and he would not let his father down. If only she hadn’t insisted on going to London. Why hadn’t he put his foot down? He could have dissuaded her. His brother was in London, and Evan had control of the estate while his father was gone. The servants answered to him and no other. This trip had not had to happen.
So why had he relented and said he’d go with her? He enjoyed London, yes, but no valid reason existed for him to be there other than to accompany her.
Had he wanted to accompany her?
She probably had plans to meet up with her paramour, Mr. Nathan Landon. Landon was a good bloke but a renowned skirt chaser, never serious as far as Evan could see. What Alexandra saw in him Evan didn’t know. Surely she wasn’t expecting a proposal of marriage. Why, Landon had a girl in every port.
A stab of jealousy hit Evan hard in the gut. She was his stepsister, for God’s sake, and a bloody pain in the arse, as well. Landon could damn well have her. Though she did deserve better…
“Alexandra,” he said, “there’s a building in the distance. Do you see it?”
