Looking down past her toes, Sophie saw the hack resting awkwardly on three wheels against the road. The horses had been unhitched and tied with two saddled mounts she didn’t recognize.
“Yes, well…that can happen.”
“You’re fortunate the whole carriage didn’t turn over.”
Sophie couldn’t help noticing the stranger sounded a touch angry. If she were feeling more confident in her ability to hold a coherent conversation, she might have asked him why.
“Driver’s gone! Another hack’s coming ’round.”
She stared bewildered as yet another strange man walked forward and knelt beside her. He too appeared uncommonly tall and handsome (although not, in her opinion, quite as handsome as the first) but with slightly fairer features. “It’s fortunate Alex and I decided on this shortcut. How are you feeling, Miss…?”
“Everton,” Mrs. Summers supplied.
Then, to Sophie’s complete astonishment, her governess launched into a round of formal introductions and general pleasantries, for all the world as if their little group were meeting for the first time at a lovely afternoon picnic.
And didn’t little Sophie just look charming spread out on the cobblestone blanket?
Good Lord.
“I’m better, much better,” she mumbled, sounding anything but better. “I’d like to sit up now.”
She pushed herself up with her elbows before anyone could stop her. The quick movement was a mistake. She knew it would be. Really, anyone would think this was the first time she had been knocked unconscious.
Her head swam, her vision blurred, her stomach lurched, and then finally, and quite suddenly, she went back to sleep.
Alex’s first thought upon pulling the insensible Miss Everton from the disabled carriage had been—
Dear God. Something had most certainly been lost in translation.
His second thought had been that Miss Everton’s unconsciousness was a disturbing but undeniably convenient opportunity to study her appearance in detail.
She was beautiful.
In the manner of Greek goddesses and Rubens portraits, she was beautiful. A heart-shaped face, full lips that seemed to curve up naturally at the corners, an endearing sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her pert little nose, all framed by a cloud of thick hair the color of sable.
Alex’s next thought had been to wonder about the color of her eyes. Would they be a golden brown or darker like her hair?
When her lids finally fluttered open Alex was hard-pressed not to gape like a green boy.
They were blue. A crisp, dark blue that practically crackled. He had never in his life seen eyes that color. Hard upon that realization came the less rational notion that he was going to tear William limb from limb.
And when she passed out the second time, Alex decided he would do it slowly. At the very least, William’s trick hack would be scrap by morning.
Picking up Miss Everton carefully, he carried her to the newly arrived hack. “Whit, you and Mr. Wang see to our mounts. I’ll assist Mrs. Summers and Miss Everton home.”
Alex ignored Whit’s knowing grin and wink. Likewise, he pretended not to hear his friend’s quiet comment about having all the fun, deciding it would be better to concentrate instead on getting both himself and Miss Everton inside the carriage without mishap—no easy feat since he refused to set her down first.
Eventually, he managed to settle himself in a seat with her in his lap. He really ought to put her on the bench beside him. He really should. It wasn’t at all proper to be holding her as he was, but for some inexplicable reason he couldn’t bring himself to perform the task.
She was so very small, not much over five feet, he guessed, and the side of her forehead was beginning to show signs of swelling. She’d have a nasty bruise in a few more hours, and if it wasn’t directly his fault, he was, at the very least, partially to blame for her injury.
Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away from the woman in his arms to peer at the older woman sitting across from him. He was surprised and, for some unaccountable reason, a little annoyed that Mrs. Summers had not insisted he set her charge down at once. Wasn’t she responsible for the girl?
She didn’t appear particularly concerned. In fact, she was eyeing him steadily with unabashed interest in a way that immediately put him on edge. He could practically hear the wheels turning in her head.
“Will she be all right?” he asked to distract her from her current train of thoughts.
Mrs. Summers blinked once before answering. “Oh, she’ll recover. The injury is not serious, leastwise not for her.”
Alex would have liked to ask what she meant, but the carriage was coming to a stop in front of a small but stylish town house.
“Ah, we were closer than I realized,” Mrs. Summers remarked. “If you will be so kind as to set Sophie on the cushions now, I’m sure one of Lord Loudor’s men can see to her.”