Chapter Two
Never in all his life had Duncan ever met a woman so bloody infuriating—or tempting.
Feckin’ hell, even the smell of her as she sank into his arms and finally went to sleep made his mouth water so badly he nearly choked.
And lore a’mighty, those big blue eyes of hers, full of trust and hope when she’d looked up at him as he’d reached for her in that carriage.
Then she had clung to him, not sobbing, not caught in a fit of hysteria, but as if she had waited all her life to embrace him.
Barely burying his nose in the furry ruff of her hood, he pulled in another deep breath of her.
Lilacs. Or maybe heather. Mixed with the clean, crisp air of winter.
The season had once been his favorite time of year.
He squinted against the relentlessly stinging blur of white, thankful that Spartan possessed the strength and will to plow through anything.
Shadowy outlines of the others were barely visible.
They clustered as close as possible to ensure no one strayed from the road.
He and Malcolm had traversed many a storm, but he had his concerns about Lady Merry’s sister and their driver.
One teetered on the verge of panic, and the other drowned in guilt about an accident that could have been prevented if the man had but known the roads better and taken the high side of the track rather than the low.
Duncan allowed himself a heavy sigh. Malcolm would watch over the lovely Lady Serendipity if she allowed it.
His brother enjoyed the ladies better than he enjoyed breathing.
The man called Jasper would have to watch over himself and come to terms with his guilt as best he could.
A heady thing, guilt was. Terrible indeed.
It was a nagging voice inside your heart and your head that never gave you a moment’s peace until you learned to drown it out by any means possible.
Lady Merry shifted in his arms, making him brace himself for more of her endless questions that he couldn’t answer.
He hadn’t meant to be such an arse with her, but seeing that carriage in the water had taken him back to the darkest moment of his life.
He squinted against the memory and shoved it away.
Stay in the present. The past canna be changed.
“How much farther?” she asked through a sleepy yawn.
“Hard to say, lass…uhm…my lady. With the air so thick with snow, landmarks are difficult to find.”
“You can call me lass. I daresay this situation is somewhat exempt from strictly adhering to the dictates of acceptable protocol.”
“That was not yer reaction earlier when I joined ye in the saddle.”
“That was different. You vexed me.”
He almost laughed. Something he rarely did. “Spartan and I have shared many years and experiences. He responds best to me. No one else has ridden him in a verra long while.”
“Then why did you suggest that Seri and I ride your mount…and your brother’s?”
“Yer sister did not seem inclined to ride one of the horses from yer team.”
“You mustn’t judge her too harshly. She is frightened.”
Lady Merry shifted in his arms again, fitting back against him with such perfection that the hard ridge of his rising became almost painful. Fecking hell, his bollocks would surely explode if they didn’t reach the inn soon, so he could remove himself from this impossible temptation.
“Ye are not frightened?” Maybe if he talked to her more, it would keep his mind off his man parts.
She shrugged. “I was when it first happened, but one must not allow oneself to panic. Panic clouds the mind. During dire circumstances, one must stay sharp and ready to react.”
“I see.”
“I do not think you do.” She straightened her spine, stretching as much as she could in the close confines of the shared saddle.
“I knew we would be all right. I just knew it.” She rolled her shoulders.
“Things could have been so much worse. Panic makes you dwell on the worst that could happen rather than discover and strive for the better things that might happen.” She wiggled her fine, round bum against him, forcing him to bite back a groan.
“I’ve not ridden for this long in ages. I fear I am out of condition. ”
As far as he was concerned, her condition was nigh on perfect, but he wasn’t about to tell her that.
The lateness of the hour turned the wintry whiteness into a murky gray haze, but a golden glow up ahead gave him hope. “I believe that light is from the coach inn. They keep it burning on the roadway to help travelers find them.”
She bounced in place like a child, almost making him smile. “Wonderful news! We shall all feel better after a nice buttered toddy beside the fire.” She waved at her sister, rapidly fluttering her gloved hand like a wee bird’s wings. “Seri, look! The inn. We made it. I told you all would be well.”
He barely made out Lady Serendipity lifting her arm to wave back with the haughty grace of a royal riding in a parade.
Duncan huffed. He couldn’t help it. Lady Merry’s older sister behaved as though the Almighty Himself had assigned her the task of judging everyone.
He had not missed her sharp looks as they rode along.
She clearly did not approve of Lady Merry’s riding accommodations.
Well, he supposed it wasn’t proper, but he’d not been able to help himself.
He had needed to ride with Lady Merry…for her own protection, of course.
Or at least, that was the excuse he had settled on.
They pulled up in front of the coach inn. A young man, bundled in so many layers of wraps he could hardly move, toddled out to meet them. “Bitter cold this evenin’, ain’t it?”
“It is at that,” Duncan said as he alighted from the saddle and reached up to help Lady Merry.
The way she smiled and dove into his arms made his heart clench as though it had forgotten how to pump his blood.
With the greatest of care, he set her on her feet and grudgingly released her, missing the warmth of her closeness more than he cared to admit.
The stable lad reached for the reins while squinting at the horses. “Six mounts, is it, then? No coach?”
“The river took our carriage,” Lady Merry told the boy before Duncan could answer.
“Tomorrow, we shall need to lease another to get us to Broadmere Hall.” The smile she gave the lad sent a surprising flash of jealousy through Duncan’s veins.
“We are so thankful to be here and are looking forward to a hot buttered toddy and a nice, warm fire.”
The young man stared at her, his eyes wide, as if he’d never seen such a lovely woman before. “We be nigh on full up, my lady, but surely there be a few seats left in the common room. Storm brought us more travelers than we ever seen before.”
Duncan expected Lady Merry to pout and flaunt her status as the sister of a duke, but she surprised him. Instead, she gave the lad another blinding smile. “We are thankful for the shelter, my good man, and more people mean more warmth.”
“And more pickpockets and ne’er-do-wells,” Lady Serendipity grumbled as she joined her sister.
“We shall protect you,” Malcolm assured her as he offered her his arm.
She stared at it for a long moment, then finally took it as if deciding she had little choice.
Lady Merry rolled her eyes, then went and whispered something to her driver. The man bobbed his head as if he couldn’t agree more with what she had said.
“My lady.” Duncan held out his hand. “Come. This lad and yer man will see to the horses.” They needed to get inside and lay claim to whatever territory might be left in the common room.
The thought of the women having to spend the night in such a rough manner rankled him, but there would be little choice.
He, Malcolm, and Jasper would simply have to guard them to ensure they remained safe.
His heart soared, or at least it lifted higher than it had in a very long while, when she slid her hand into his without hesitation. “Thank you again for all you have done,” she said quietly, her tone filled with sincerity. “And I am sorry about getting a bit wretched with you.”
He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and nodded, uncomfortable with her unnecessary gratitude.
“All is well now. That is all that matters.” He escorted her into the inn before she could say anything more, determined to speak to the innkeeper about finding the women a safer place to sleep other than a chair in the common room.
Even if it was nothing more than a pallet in the eave of the attic.
Surely there had to be something more private.
But as they wound their way through the overfilled room, he had his doubts.
He had never seen the inn this packed with travelers.
A harried ale wench hurried back and forth, passing out tankards and refilling the glasses of thirsty customers as quickly as she could.
An old woman wove through the crowd with steaming plates artfully balanced on both her chubby arms, handing out food for those lucky enough to catch her eye and be served.
“Over there.” Lady Merry tugged on his arm. “In the corner beside the hearth. That’ll suit us just fine. A bench and three chairs. Seri and I can share the bench, and once Jasper comes in, he can have a seat with you and your brother.”
Malcolm and Lady Serendipity were already headed that way, so the matter appeared to be settled.
With a disgruntled huff, Duncan dutifully escorted the lady to her seat.
With the sisters situated on the bench, he and Malcolm formed a wall with the three chairs, so they might guard the women from any unsavory types.
As many folk as were crammed into the room, there had to be at least a few untrustworthy sorts.
Duncan waved down the ale wench, easily catching her attention, since he towered over the others in the room. “Hot buttered toddies, ye ken? Five of them.”
She gave him a weary nod and trundled away to fetch them.