Lydia Dare - A Certain Wolfish Charm

"Miss Rutledge?" the duke persisted.

The darkness lifted, and she could finally look up at him, his body limned by the light from the window. He was a study in masculine proportions. Broad shoulders. Dark hair that fell in a tumble across his forehead. A simple silver streak over his left temple that was highlighted by the light when he turned his head. He was beautiful, and not because he'd saved her life earlier.

"Now that sounds more like the brother I know. Never let a woman get too close to you, not when the moon is nearly full to fading. Isn't that what you always say?"

Blackmoor growled low in his throat.

The driver of the coach opened the door, which was now above them. Jenkins poked his head inside, drenching them with a pool of water. "Everyone well?" he asked.

"We most certainly are not well," Blackmoor retorted, his voice harsh. "Who taught you to drive a coach?"

Jenkins quickly retreated from the doorway. "I'll just go gather the horses," he said as he vanished from view. Lily thought she heard him say something about poor-mannered noblemen.

She reached up to touch the wound at her hairline and winced.

"Be still," Blackmoor commanded her.

"Can you go five minutes without giving me orders?" she asked as she sat up. "I'm fine. Just a bump on the head." The walls of the carriage spun as she stood up.

The duke growled.

"I do like her," Lord William said as he pulled himself up through the open doorway to kneel on the top of the coach. "Not even drizzling anymore." He held out his arms. "Here, pass her up to me."

Blackmoor hesitated. Lily slipped past him, her body brushing against his, and raised her hands up toward Lord William, feeling rather like a baby waiting to be picked up by her parent.

Lily gasped when Blackmoor's warm hands spanned her waist. Having his hands on her person felt almost scandalous. Yet wildly comforting at the same time.

He lifted her effortlessly toward his brother's outstretched arms, which pulled her safely and quickly out of the coach. "Welcome back, Miss Rutledge," Lord William laughed.

She had to admit she enjoyed his easy-going nature, which was so unlike his rigid brother's. He had a boyish grin and a rakish twinkle in his eye, the contrasting traits mixing nicely in the man.

Before she could speak, the duke pulled himself from the coach and sat beside her on top of it for a moment. She could see Jenkins slogging down the muddy road in the distance as he led the horses back to the coach. If there wasn't too much damage, maybe they could soon be on their way.

In one graceful leap, Blackmoor was on the ground and holding his arms out to her. He beckoned with the tips of his fingers. "Come on, now."

Lily sat down on the side of the coach and slid into his arms. Instead of catching her at the waist, as she expected, he wrapped his arms around her and let her slide down the front of his body.

She couldn't fight back the gasp that rose in her throat. Her hands clutched at his shoulders and then slipped down to his chest as she made her descent. Her heart thudded. Could he hear it? Certainly he could, because her heartbeats sounded as loud as the pounding of hooves to her own ears.

"I hear there will be a beautiful full moon in a few days," Lord William said as he jumped down from the coach himself.

Blackmoor thrust her forcefully away from himself and went to join his brother and Jenkins as they prepared to flip the coach. Surely the three men didn't think they could lift the heavy conveyance on their own?

Yet, within moments, the coach creaked and groaned as its mighty hull shifted and landed forcefully back on its wheels. The coach must have been much lighter than she thought. No wonder it had tilted over.

Lily was anxious to sit down inside the coach again. Her head spun like a child's top after the string had been pulled. Blackmoor reached out to take her arm.

"We need to have someone take a look at your head," he said, concern etched in his features.

"Not in this coach, you won't," Jenkins said. "Broken axle." He pointed toward the front of the carriage, where Lily couldn't see.

Blackmoor cursed under his breath.

"Looks like Miss Rutledge will just have to ride to town with me. She can ride your mount, Simon." Lord William smiled as he untied his large chestnut gelding from a nearby tree where Jenkins had secured the horse.

Lily's vision grew darker. She shook her head, trying to shake off the queasiness like a hound shakes off water. That only made things worse.

"It's fairly obvious that Miss Rutledge can't sit a horse." Blackmoor looked down at her and scowled.

"Oh, delightful luck, there. She can ride double with me," Lord William said as he reached down toward Lily, a sparkle in his icy blue eyes.

"I don't think so," the duke replied, mounting his own hunter before pulling Lily onto his lap. She leaned into him for support, and his arms came around her as he took the reins. She settled in closer to him and sighed. His chest was solid and strong.

"Perhaps someone

should

look at my head," she said quietly, the smallest noise making the thump in her brain renew itself.

She felt a breeze stir around her calves and reached to adjust her skirts.

Blackmoor brushed her hands away and accomplished the task himself. Heaven forbid that she should show a bit of leg around these men. Though she had to admit she rather enjoyed having the duke arrange her clothing.

Five

Simon had to admit he rather liked arranging Lily's skirts, though he would much rather remove them all together. He was content to see the turn of her ankle and a slim calf, but he wasn't particularly happy that Will was able to enjoy the same sight. Simon bared his teeth at his brother before the insolent pup smiled and dutifully turned his head.

"We need to reach the next village before dark," Simon said.

"Haslemere is just a few miles up the road," the coachman informed them. "It's fairly good-sized, so there's got to be someone in a coaching yard who can fix this up with plenty of time to spare."

Plenty of time to Jenkins and plenty of time to Simon meant two very different things. Even if they found a fellow to repair the axle as soon as they reached the village, when they returned, it would be too late for them to continue on this day. Lily couldn't ride in a carriage with him or Will after dark.

During the daylight hours, he could honestly say he was more aware of her injury than her body. He had the beast firmly under control—for the time being, though he wasn't so sure how long he could maintain his composure after the sun went down.

"I think that's a good idea," Will agreed goodnaturedly. "We'll send someone back for you, Jenkins."

His brother nudged his gelding forward, and Abbadon dutifully followed. Simon noticed Lily wince from being jostled on the horse, though she didn't utter a complaint. He sighed.

"Will!" he called. When his brother pulled up on his reins, Simon gestured toward the road in front of them. "Your speed isn't conducive to Miss Rutledge's injury. Go on ahead, and find someone to fix the axle. We'll follow at a more leisurely pace."

"Whatever you say, Simon." Will had the audacity to wink at him.

Simon glowered at his brother. "And we're going to need rooms at the inn. See if you can't get the innkeeper to track down the local doctor before we arrive."

"Anything else, Your Grace?" Will raised one eyebrow at him.

Simon wasn't sorry at all for his tone. Being alone with Lily while her body was pressed against his would be some of the hardest work he'd ever done. No reason why Will shouldn't have a few chores of his own.

Lily stirred in his arms and looked up at him. "Shouldn't we see if the coach can be fixed first, Your Grace? It's not that much farther to Westfield Hall, is it?"