Chapter Fourteen
W hen Georgina first heard the sharp crack, her brain registered it as a thunderclap, despite the cloudless blue sky. In the next moment, she wondered if a tree branch had split in two and fallen. By the third beat, she no longer had the wherewithal to attempt to identify the sound. Her entire concentration was centered upon preventing hers, Alexander’s, and Caesar Ruffian’s untimely deaths.
The horses had bolted.
Taut reins ran painfully through Georgina’s hands as pain radiated through the muscles of her arms. She wasn’t even capable of hauling backward. It took all her strength just to hold on to the strips of leather. Her body whipped back and forth, slamming against Alexander as the team shied to the left. To her horror, she felt herself fly half out of her seat as the bays halted abruptly. She was then yanked by the reins as the team surged forward again. Just as she began to pitch over the curricle’s tongue, a strong arm encircled her waist.
Georgina slammed against Alexander’s chest, the air nearly whooshing out of her. As she scrambled to make sense of the situation, he’d already unraveled one of the reins from her hand. He half spun, half pushed her away, sending her down against the carriage bench. Dazedly, she watched while he wrapped his fingers around the second leather strap. As he yanked back on the team, the silk fabric of his coat slid over his tightened muscles. His sleeves bunched back, revealing his straining tendons.
Ruffian Caesar, who was thankfully secure in his half-lidded basket, emitted a stream of panicked barks. His little head peeked out from the small opening at the top, but the rest of him remained inside the wicker container.
Georgina started to rise, wanting to help in some way. Before she could, Alexander pushed her back down with an elbow. “Stay down. We’re being fired upon.”
“Someone’s shooting at us?” Georgina shouted.
As if in answer to her question, another boom crackled through the air. Ruffian Caesar growled. Dirt flew up from the ground to the left of their carriage. Alexander swore and leaned over the horses, calling their names. Under control now, the beasts moved faster.
“Get my pistols!” Alexander ordered, his voice sounding as strained as his body. “They’re in the box under the seat.”
“Why are you sitting upright? Duck!” Georgina yelled, even as she complied with his command. She tried to kneel, but at the speed they were traveling, she fell into a rather undignified heap in the well of the conveyance. Her shoulder slammed violently against the wooden dash. Ignoring the pain shooting down her arm, she tried to scramble to all fours.
“Just… give me… a firearm!” Alexander huffed out.
Realizing neither questions nor instructions were beneficial, Georgina focused on her search for a small chest. Sure enough, she discovered a rectangular container beneath Alexander’s feet. It had a lock on it, but fortunately it was open. Throwing back the hinged lid, Georgina grabbed one of the ornately made pieces.
“Here!” she shouted. Still bouncing around in the well, Georgina held out the weapon to Alexander. Collecting reins in one hand, he grabbed it. Until now he’d only been bracing himself with his good leg, but he slammed both feet against the floor of the conveyance. Still gripping the leathers, he swung his body halfway around. Despite the jostling, he managed to keep the weapon steady… at least to Georgina’s untrained eye. Georgina followed the direction of the barrel and spotted a figure on horseback lurking in the trees behind them. Alexander aimed the firearm toward their attacker. Between the distance, the carriage speed, and the shifting, dappled shadows, Georgina could not make out the fellow’s features. Even his form was difficult to ascertain.
Sparks flew from the lock of Alexander’s pistol, followed by a jet of smoke and flame from the muzzle. An acrid scent drifted past Georgina’s nostrils. A scream welled up inside her, but she jammed it back down her throat. She didn’t want to distract him. Ruffian Caesar’s yapping was enough additional noise.
“Hand me the other pistol!” Alexander roared, his voice much louder than necessary. Georgina realized that his words were meant for the villain as much as for her. Thankful that her hands remained steady, Georgina passed him the second firearm.
Alexander didn’t shoot this time. Instead, he swiveled back and forth. Somehow, he managed to control the thundering team even as he kept the assailant in his sights. Georgina had never imagined finding a sportsman heroic, but witnessing Alexander right now… seeing his muscles strain to handle the team one-handed… realizing that he was risking a lead ball… it was impressive. More than impressive.
The figure in the leafy shadows grew smaller and smaller. He didn’t seem inclined to follow, not with Alexander’s pistol at the ready.
“Keep watch.” Alexander’s normally jovial drawl was clipped, even officious. “The road’s becoming curvy. At this speed, I’ll need to train my eyes forward. If you spy our stalker, shout.”
Georgina began to nod and then realized that the last thing Alexander needed was another visual task. “Yes. I will.”
“Hold on!” Alexander shouted. “We’re at the first bend.”
The carriage swung violently around the sharp curve. Even clinging desperately to the seat, Georgina felt her body skid. Her knees chafed against the floor of the curricle, and her hip nearly left the carriage. Her thumb scraped along the wooden underside of the bench while her fingers dug desperately into the soft upholstery. Somehow, she managed to stay inside.
“You best get back onto the seat,” Alexander shouted.
As the horses pounded down a short stretch of straight road, Georgina flopped onto the cushion. Her breath came in short huffs, both from the exertion and the excitement. Fear mixed with a strange exhilaration. Could part of her actually be enjoying this wild, wild ride?
Surely not. Yet she couldn’t deny that it wasn’t just terror making her heart dance inside her chest. Because amid all the alarm lurked a sense of adventure.
“Mind your grip!” Alexander called out.
She clung to the seat as she faced backward, her eyes peeled for their enemy. This time she pressed her knees into the padding for additional anchorage. Ruffian Caesar eyed her curiously before he burst into another series of yaps.
“Making a hard left!” Alexander roared.
Georgina’s body swung violently to the right, just as the left wheel lifted from the ground. Her heart seemed to fly upward in her chest, or perhaps it was her stomach catapulting from its usual position. A sound tore from her lips… but it wasn’t a gasp of alarm. To her shock, it was a battle cry—one that would make a Scythian warrior proud.
The conveyance slammed back down on the rutted path. Alexander let out a whoop of his own—the sound joyous and triumphant. It thundered through Georgina, triggering a swell of exhilaration. Somehow, despite the breakneck speed and the different positions of their bodies, their eyes met for the briefest of moments.
But it was enough to send sharp, twinkling sensations shimmering through Georgina’s body. Enough to ignite the excitement already churning in her gut. Enough to confirm that they were sharing this adventure, this thrill.
Alexander laughed—a full-bodied one that almost drowned out the air rushing past Georgina’s ears. An echoing rumble built inside her until mirth tumbled from her lips. Her high peals mixed with his low chuckle. Ruffian Caesar pointed his black nose into the air and woofed.
“Turning right!” Alexander called out.
This time, Georgina was even more prepared for being tossed about. The right wheel popped up. If she’d been in this carriage with anyone else, she would have been terrified.
But not with Alexander.
Instead, their enthusiastic shouts mingled. She trusted him, she realized. It wasn’t just his skill—even though he had that in abundance. Nor was it his confidence. Instead, it was a bone-deep feeling—nay, a certainty—that he wouldn’t place her in unnecessary danger. Even steeped in peril, he made Georgina feel safe.
She hadn’t felt this secure for a long time. Not since her father drew his last breath after his wasting illness.
Nor had Georgina experienced this level of joy. And she wanted to hold on to it, revel in it as long as she could.
The road stretched straight again, and Alexander gave the team their head. The bays galloped down the wide path, their heads extended, their manes rippling in the wind they created. Even though Georgina still kept watch behind them, she couldn’t help but steal looks over her shoulder at the magnificent horses… and their owner.
Alexander was smiling now—like always. But there was something different about his grin. It seemed deeper, more genuine. He was loving this—this fast, perilous ride.
A sweet ache started in Georgina’s heart and spread throughout her body. A deep urgent throb thudded through her, demanding her to take action. But what action?
Alexander. She needed Alexander. This laughing, joyous, adventurous man.
She’d felt similar to this when she’d kissed him in the Estbrook ballroom. But this was more intense… more desperate. Raw.
The road began to branch off. Alexander slowed the team’s pace as they passed a few small lanes. Finally, he turned off onto a small, shaded path. They had traveled only a few yards when he pulled the team behind a large hedge.
“Prospero and Caliban need to rest,” Alexander explained as he climbed down from the curricle. He leaned more heavily on his cane than usual as he tied the horses’ reins to a nearby branch. He put enough slack in the line that they could comfortably lower their heads to graze. He returned to the curricle and lifted Ruffian Caesar down from his basket. After he secured the dog’s lead to a nearby tree, he turned in Georgina’s direction. “We’re sheltered from the main road here, but we can still see it. We have a chance to determine if the villain is following us.”
“That…” Georgina tried to swallow back the unruly need pulsating through her. “That makes sense.”
Alexander whipped his head in her direction, his hazel eyes golden with concern. Despite his uneven stride, he made his way swiftly back to the curricle. Barely employing his legs as leverage, he used his arms to swing himself onto the bench next to her. He reached forward and gently rubbed his thumb against her cheek, leaving a trail of sparks across her skin.
But Georgina didn’t want tender ministrations right now. Or, at least, that wasn’t all she desired.
“I apologize. I should have been more considerate of your feelings. The ride itself must have been frightening—” Alexander began.
Georgina couldn’t fight the impulse pumping through her. She leaned forward, capturing Alexander’s mouth with her own. Her lips moved against his with a greediness that she wasn’t embarrassed to show. Latching her arms around his body, she pulled him close. She wanted to feel all of him in the most elemental way.
A surprise sound whooshed from him, but a moment later, his tongue plunged into her mouth. He kissed with the abandon that she’d craved. Still, it didn’t seem enough. They were pressed against each other—her softness against his hard contours.
She slid her hands to his back, wishing that he didn’t have on a coat, waistcoat, and shirt. The intriguing bands of muscles both beguiled and taunted her. She yearned to explore the ridges without layers between them. What would it be like to touch his bare flesh, to fully feel the heat he generated?
At least her man’s attire afforded her an unexpected, but welcome, kind of freedom. Without her skirts and petticoats, there was no pesky voluminous material separating her from Alexander. But their seated position still kept their lower halves apart. And Georgina didn’t want that.
Her fingers pressed against Alexander’s firm chest. She gave a little but insistent push. His lips curved against her mouth, and his grin tasted as wicked as she felt. He lowered them both to the bench with her on top.
Their lips never left each other’s. The kiss only deepened, their mouths moving in a rhythm that was at once new yet startlingly familiar. It called to something inside Georgina—that wild part that had awakened during their flight from their attacker. Her whole body wanted to move to the tantalizing tempo. Something hard pressed into the juncture of her thighs. Pleasure shot through her first, then understanding. This, this is what she’d read about in Lysistrata . But, oh, she didn’t think a man’s hardened cock could feel so good.
Alexander undid the buttons on her coat, and the fabric slipped from her shoulders. She reached for his outer garment and made quick work of the fastenings. They undid each other’s waistcoats. Alexander’s hands slid under her shirt, and he tugged at the binding around her chest. The strip of material fell away. Nothing but thin linen and silk breeches separated their bodies now.
Alexander’s lips moved from hers and skimmed along her throat. His fingers were still under her shirt as they traced slowly over her bare skin. The calluses he’d acquired from driving carriages brushed against her, triggering the most wonderful shivers. The quaking of her body seemed to encourage Alexander, and his tongue darted against her moistened skin. Delicious sensations rioted through her already sensitized nerves. Helpless against the onslaught, she wriggled against him. Yet that only made the pressure inside her grow.
Alexander groaned, his body beginning to buck under hers. Experimentally, she kissed his neck, and the taste of salt touched her lips. To her delight, he also trembled. Their pants and moans filled the hot summer air, and Georgina found herself lost in a world that only contained Alexander and the brilliant sensations that he wrought.
Until the clop of horse’s hooves.
In one swift movement, Alexander switched their positions. His broad back covered her chest, his legs still entwined in hers. But he wasn’t kissing her anymore. Instead, his head was up, his eyes scanning their surroundings.
Cold fear dissolved the sparks of pleasure coursing through Georgina. Alexander was using his own body to shield hers. If their attacker discovered them now, they were vulnerable—the horses tied up, Ruffian Caesar sniffing a bush, Alexander’s pistols back in their box, and half their clothes in a heap on the floor of the curricle.
What had they been thinking?
Well, they hadn’t been. That much was clear.
“It’s just a farmer off to market. I don’t think the villain is following us.” The relief in Alexander’s voice was palpable to Georgina. After all, she felt it with all her being, too.
“Even if we’re not in danger, we can’t do this—at least not here.” Alexander pulled them both into a sitting position. “If we don’t wish a marriage foisted upon us, we cannot take matters too far.”
“No. No, we can’t.” Georgina drew in a steadying breath despite a sudden pang of something that felt suspiciously like hurt. She didn’t want to be wedded to a sportsman… right? But Alexander was different from her brother and his cronies.
“Less than a few hours ago, I promised to take care of your reputation, and now I’ve come a hair’s breadth of seducing you right by a thoroughfare leading to London! If your half brother learned of our near-coupling and used this moment to threaten you more, I’d never forgive myself.” Alexander shoved his hand in his already mussed hair. Auburn clumps fell from his queue, framing his face in fiery splendor.
Georgina’s heart squeezed for more reasons than she cared to explore. Was Alexander truly just worried about her future, or was he also concerned that discovery would force his hand as well? And why did she care about the answer?
“Well, we weren’t seen,” Georgina said, trying to recover her practicality. “There’s no harm done.”
Alexander scrubbed his hands over his face. “Maybe it is too dangerous for us to embrace. I lose all control when I’m with you.”
The dying embers inside Georgina flashed back to full flame. “Do I affect you that much?”
“Yes.” The admission came out as a groan. Alexander still had his face buried in his palms as he dropped his shoulders to his knees. He looked like a man utterly overpowered by emotions—emotions for her .
“Truly?” Georgina prodded as euphoric giddiness hummed through her, reawakening that reckless wildness. His confession did much to dispel the prick of hurt.
“Yes.” Alexander’s shoulders sank even further in defeat. “If that farmer hadn’t come by when he did…”
Georgina waited anxiously for Alexander to finish, but he annoyingly stopped talking. Her heart thud-skipped in a painful, yet also strangely pleasurable, pattern.
“Then what?” she prompted. Even to her own ears, her voice sounded breathless and more than a little strained.
“I might have gotten you with child, and then you would have had no choice but to wed me.”
Alexander, a modern Adonis, found her, a wallflower, that alluring? Georgina had never thought herself the kind of woman capable of tempting a man—let alone beyond his limits. Her blood thundered through her body, along with a new sense of power. She’d spent much of her life feeling trapped, but now there was a rush of freedom. And she wanted to seize it.
“But aren’t there other things we can do? Things that do not lead to conception?” The naughty words flew from Georgina’s lips, and she didn’t have any desire to stop them.
Alexander’s palms slid from his face. He turned slowly in her direction. His countenance was a lovely mix of pure shock, startled wonder, and, most importantly, blatant hunger.
An uncharacteristic giggle escaped Georgina. She was flirting, actually flirting. And she liked it.
“I don’t mean here,” she said as she reached down and handed Alexander his discarded coat and waistcoat. “You are right about the danger. But, fortunately, we are traveling to my cottage. My entirely empty cottage.”
Alexander visibly swallowed. “Is that so?”
Georgina was absurdly glad that Alexander wasn’t trying to play the gallant and ask her if she comprehended her own intentions. She may be a spinster, but she knew exactly what she was proposing.
“Most definitely.” Georgina’s words were a promise, not just to Alexander but to herself.
A huge grin stretched across Alexander’s face. He smiled so often, yet this one was different. This particular beam seemed like a special gift meant just for her.