Phaedra shut her eyes.
“Dammit,” Deerhurst exploded.
“Whoa!” a voice exclaimed, and Phaedra opened her eyes to find the newest arrival pushing his horse through the man blocking their path.
The Earl of Saville had arrived.
He guided his horse up against the phaeton. “What have we here? A damsel in distress? Shall I save the lady?”
“You will do no such thing,” Deerhurst bit through gritted teeth.
Saville arched a brow. “You don’t want the lady saved?”
Phaedra shook her head, amazed that she could still feel amusement while boxed in by suitors gone mad.
“I will do the bloody saving,” Deerhurst said.
Saville’s grin was almost audible. “Even a hero needs a helping hand.”
Phaedra intervened before Deerhurst could impart another growl. “I take it you have a plan of action?”
“A smart woman you have here, Deerhurst.”
“Get to the damn point.”
Saville leaned in low and said to Deerhurst, “On the count of one, I will leap onto your carriage, and you will jump onto my horse. On the count of two, I will snatch up your lady and swing her up into your arms, and on the count of three, you dash off into the sunset.”
Oh. My. Lord.
The man was utterly insane.
As, apparently, was Deerhurst, for he nodded thoughtfully and then said, “Excellent plan.”
Phaedra blinked. Was she the only one who thought it a terrible plan? Jumping, leaping, and being snatched up? There wasn’t even a sunset to dash off into! Who even spoke like that?
“I don’t think this is a good—”
“One!” Saville barked and swung his leg over the horse as Deerhurst reached for the reigns.
Phaedra gasped, expecting both men to tumble and land in a heap on the ground. It would serve them both right if they got trampled by horses and wolves today.
However, surprisingly, the men were in utter harmony. The phaeton wobbled as Saville landed on the spot Deerhurst previously occupied, Deerhurst now atop the big, copper horse.
“Two!”
Phaedra had no time to absorb what was happening before she was snatched around the waist—she gave an extremely unladylike yelp—and was tossed at Deerhurst, who, bless his soul, caught her in a firm, confident grip. He settled her at his front, his arms enfolding her in a safe cocoon.
“Three!”
They surged forward as Deerhurst dug his heels into the horse. Strong, powerful legs surrounded Phaedra, and she inwardly admonished herself for noticing Deerhurst’s thighs during such a disturbing event.
She glanced over his shoulder.
“They’re chasing us!” Phaedra cried as all but one or two of the men set out after them. What madness prompted these men to chase them? What could they possibly hope to gain? Surely they would not rip her from Deerhurst’s embrace? Such behavior would be barbaric, but she wouldn’t quite put it past them.
They were all acting barbaric.
She heard Deerhurst curse, then his lips pressed up against her ear. “Are you all right?” he asked.
