The problem was she still wanted him. She should have stayed away from overbearing men— they had a feral charm that proved hard to resist.
Valentine’s town coach slowed near Lord Castleigh’s house and Ashley and Maddie climbed out. Maddie looked back at Josie. “Are you coming in? Ashley’s staying over.”
Josie sighed. “No.” She glanced at Catie and Valentine. “I actually have another destination in mind.”
With a shrug, Maddie turned away, and as soon as the footman closed the door, Josie grabbed Catie’s hand. “You needed my help once,” she began, “and I swore to do everything I could. And had you not married Lord Valentine, you know I would have kept my promise.”
Catie squeezed her hand. “I never doubted you, Josie. You’ve always been there for me.”
Josie nodded. She hated asking Catie for this favor. She glanced at Valentine. He was not going to like this. “Now I need to ask something of you. I need to borrow your carriage.”
“Where do you need to go?” Valentine asked. “I’ll take you, of course.”
“No.” Josie shook her head. “I must go alone. And I must go now. This very moment, in fact.”
“Young lady,” Valentine began. “You’re in enough trouble as it is. I don’t think—”
Josie ignored him and stared at Catie. The two girls were still holding hands, and Catie squeezed hers. Josie did not want to be the source of an argument between her cousin and her new husband, but she couldn’t see any other way. She needed transportation, and she had none of her own.
“When your mother finally finds you, she—”
“Quint,” Catie said quietly, still looking at Josie. “Give her the carriage.”
One of Britain’s greatest orators closed his mouth then opened it again, gaping at his wife. “I beg your pardon.”
“You heard me.” Finally, Catie turned to him. “I do not ask very much of you, but I am asking you to grant me this one favor. Give my cousin the carriage.”
“But that’s not a good idea. Let’s consider the matter logically, and perhaps together—”
“Quint,” Catie said, and Josie was impressed by the authority in her voice. She’d never heard Catie speak so forcefully before. “We know it’s not a good idea, and we know it’s not logical. It’s an adventure. It’s a crusade.” She winked at Josie. “It’s something my cousin must do. Now, are you going to give her the carriage or do I have to get out now and help her steal one?”
Valentine looked from his wife to her cousin. “You are serious?”
Josie nodded.
Valentine shook his head and blew out a long breath. “Very well. The carriage and my coachman are yours.”
“Oh, thank you!” Josie leaned over and gave both him and Catie a kiss on the cheek. Then she leaned back, smiled, and said, “Now, would you please get out?”
STEPHEN CAME AWAKE slowly. He was careful to maintain his deep, steady breathing and to keep his facial muscles lax. Even he was not entirely certain whether he was still awake or asleep until he heard the scuff of a boot on the floor. Fury jumped in his veins, and he had to struggle not to attack the intruder before the interloper assaulted him.
But years of training with the Punjabi trackers in India had honed Stephen’s instincts. He ignored the impulse to attack and instead played dead. Mind racing, Stephen catalogued the facts as they were.
One: He was in an inn on the road to Cornwall. Two: He had not been asleep more than three or four hours. Three: Someone was pilfering his room, going through his belongings.
The map.
He had hidden it beneath his pillow, and without moving his hand to check, he was not certain it was still there. Stephen didn’t know how long the trespasser had been searching, but it wouldn’t take anyone long to realize the map was close to Stephen. He didn’t relish the result when the prowler narrowed the search.
Stephen prepared to strike. Mentally, he inventoried the possible weapons in the room: candlestick near the bed, pistol in the sack at the foot of the bed, knife in his boot . . .
And then the prowler moved closer. So close that Stephen could smell him. But there was no expected scent of sweat or horse manure. Instead, what floated over him was the heady mix of vanilla and lavender.
Josephine.
His eyes popped open at once to the sight of a rounded derriere. She was bent over, searching through his valise. With a roar of anger and frustration, Stephen reached out and caught her about the waist, hauling her against him on the bed.
She didn’t cry out, and she didn’t acquiesce. She fought him, elbowing him in the throat and then turning and raking her nails across his cheek. He pulled back quickly, and she didn’t draw blood, but Stephen was angry enough to catch her arm and twist it until she cried out.
