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“So now we are a team?” he said.
A pause, and then she said, “Perhaps, but I shall drive. You can’t be trusted.”
He stiffened at the teasing. “That accident had nothing to do with my skill on the box.”
“No?”
“No.”
“What, then?”
“I was distracted.” It was all he would allow himself to say.
“By what?”
By your hair.“By your hat.”
Something flashed in her eyes. “By... my hat.”
“Indeed. You lost it.” Christ. He sounded idiotic.
“I lost my hat and you crashed your carriage.”
“It’s a brougham,” he clarified, hoping he’d change the topic and instead simply sounding pompous.
“Is that relevant to my hat?” Were her lips twitching?
“I see nothing amusing about this situation, Miss Frampton.” Her lips were definitely twitching. He scowled. “I’m saying you should go—” he began, turning away from her before he revealed entirely too many thoughts.
He stopped when he looked to the horses, only to discover that they’d been collected by two men, one white, one Black, both broad as houses, who seemed fully disinterested in Clayborn’s presence. “Oy!” he shouted, pushing Adelaide to the side of the wreckage before dropping his bag and heading for them. “Leave off!”
They didn’t pause.
Fucking hell. His entire body ached, and he was going to have to fight these men.
“Clayborn—” Adelaide began just as a woman’s voice sounded from the shadows.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He turned to find a tiny woman coming out of the brush, dark eyes twinkling and a bright smile on her brown face. In one hand, she held a pretty silver pistol, gleaming like fire in the setting sun.
“What in hell?” He moved immediately back towardAdelaide, putting himself between her and the weapon. First she crashed his carriage, now she was going to get him killed.
The woman with the pistol didn’t hesitate. “A surprise, am I not?”
He blinked. “Who are you?”
“That isn’t important. What’s important is thatyouare the Duke of Clayborn, and you’ve taken a bit of a header, haven’t you?”
His brows shot together. “How do you know who I am?”
“Your crest is on the outside of—” She waved a hand in the direction of his former conveyance. “You really ought to have better wheels for these roads, Your Grace.” Before he could reply to the dry words, she added, “Didn’t you tell him that, Addie?”
Of course she knew Adelaide. They likely had a weekly whist game during which they discussed which of the great houses in Surrey had the most easily nicked silver.
“To be honest, I didn’t,” Adelaide replied as though they were all at tea. “We are in competition.”
The newcomer smiled. “Well, good news. It looks like you’ve won. Now, Duke, you seem a decent fellow, and Adelaide hasn’t done you in, which means you likelyarea decent fellow—they’re rare. So what say I take that bag and those horses and whatever blunt you’ve got in your purse, and leave you to it?”
His brows rose. “Highwayman. Of course.”
