His potent, unexpected kiss.
Always doing what she did not expect.
Somehow, in light of him sitting on the floor untangling her hair or grinning beside her in church or showing her his absurd fishing boat with boyhood pride, none of the offenses seemed so reproachful.
Never mind.
This was better.
As she’d told him today, one who had no shame did his deeds in the light. What was wrong with restricting their visits to the proper course of conduct? Why couldn’t they sit and take tea together like anyone else?
A twig snapped in the grove.
“Whoa.” The footman paused ahead, lifting a hand in warning. He twisted in his saddle and surveyed the woods around them.
“What is it, Snell?”
“Heard something, my lord.”
Meg’s chest thumped, then settled as a hare-sized shadow leapt from a shrub. The creature darted across the path and disappeared.
She dismissed a pent-up breath. “It was nothing.” When would she no longer require guards for her every outing? Or cease feeling eyes on her back?
The horses moved forward again, hooves crunching pine needles and leaves—
A blinding flash of light, heat on her face, aboomexploding her eardrums.
The horse reared beneath her. Screaming, she groped for the animal’s mane, but her body was already midair.
No.She slammed into prickly earth. Craned her head up.
The ground shook beneath her as a second explosion engulfed the footman ahead. White flames ate him. Smoke mushroomed. She smelled gunpowder and charred flesh in one revolting, gagging breath.
My lord?
Pushing herself up, she squinted through the orange-lit haze of smoke. The second footman limped toward her, gun drawn, holding on to his knee. The horses were gone. Where was Lord Cunningham?
There.
She caught a faint flash of him, his billowing carrick coat, as he galloped his horse through the trees. She blinked hard.Out of control.Yes, his horse was out of control. Or he could not rule the reins. Not with the blast.
She was too dazed to think of any other reason he might be running away.
The footman’s garlic breath puffed heavily in her face. His weight bore into her, causing a dull ache in her neck, as she lumbered him through the tangling undergrowth. “Keep going,” she panted. “We are nearly through the trees.”
She was not certain where else the man was injured. Had he been thrown? Was that blood dripping beneath his livery sleeve?
“Down.” His trill voice made her drop.
They hit the ground just as a rock whizzed into the air above them.
Then footsteps, plowing closer … more than one.
“They’re h–h–here.” Someone she did not recognize. Another rock, bouncing off a tree trunk. “Give me th–that lantern.”
Terror trickled through her. Slow at first. Then gushing as light spilled into the darkness.No. Help. Tom.
“Run.” The footman elbowed her in the ribs, and the pain sprang her off the ground.
