Louise Allen - Regency Rogues - Unlacing The Forbidden - Unlacing Lady Thea / Forbidden Jewel of India

Thea wormed her way back with all the speed she could muster.

‘She’s out!’ the Englishman shouted as hands reached down to haul her and her burden up the bank.

‘Then roll free, this is about to go,’ Rhys called, his voice strained to the point of being almost unrecognisable. ‘On my mark. One, two, three—’

The young man landed in an ungainly heap in a patch of nettles as Thea thrust the baby into the arms of its sobbing mother and the diligence subsided into the ditch with the sound of splintering wood. ‘Rhys!’

It seemed to take minutes, not seconds, to reach the side of the coach he had been supporting. Now he lay clear of it, on his back in the mud, eyes closed, hands bleeding, face white. Thea hurled herself down beside him and pressed her ear to his chest. Surely he hadn’t broken his neck?

Under her hands she felt him drag air down to his diaphragm. Not dead, then. ‘Rhys! Rhys, wake up.’

‘Thea?’ He seemed to come to with a jolt and she scrambled to her knees as he reached for her, his eyes opening wide and dark in his pale face, his grip on her wrists painful. ‘You aren’t hurt?’

‘No, just terribly muddy. I thought you were under that when it fell.’ She collapsed back onto his chest and hugged as much as she could of him.

‘Mmm,’ Rhys murmured. ‘Much as I appreciate being cuddled, I prefer not to be sinking into the mire at the same time. I seem to be squashing a frog.’

‘Idiot! I thought… I feared…’

‘Don’t you dare cry on me,’ he said mildly. ‘How do you think I felt when I saw you wriggling into that death trap, you madcap creature?’

Thea got to her feet, trying not to tread on him. He was battered enough without squashing what breath remained in him. ‘Well, who else did you think was going to go in?’ she said belligerently to cover her reaction. ‘The passengers were too shocked or too large. Are you hurt?’

Rhys sat up, winced and uncoiled himself from the ditch. ‘Other than feeling as though our esteemed Prince Regent has been sitting on me, and kicking while he was at it, I am perfectly all right.’

Thea repressed the urge to fuss. ‘I’ll see how the Englishman is, then. He had a nasty cut to the head before he joined us in the ditch.’

She found him retrieving his baggage from the piles strewn along the road. ‘Sir? Should you be on your feet?’

He had tied her fichu into a lopsided bandage which gave his pleasant, regular features an alarmingly piratical cast at odds with his severe pallor, and he was moving with great care as though all his joints hurt. Which, she supposed, they did.

‘Ma’am, I thank you for your concern. They tell me there is an inn a mile or so along the road. I will find myself a room there.’

‘At least allow us to carry you that far. Tom!’ She gestured to the coachman who hurried over. ‘Place this gentleman’s luggage up behind the chaise.’

Rhys made his way towards them through the French passengers who were sorting themselves out amidst much weeping and waving of arms. No one appeared seriously injured.

‘My lord, this is the gentleman who supported the other end of the coach. He needs to get to an inn where he can rest.’

‘The lady is too kind, I trust I do not inconvenience you? My name is Giles Benton. I should have a card.’ He dug into his breast pocket and produced one.

‘The Reverend Benton,’ Rhys looked up from his study of the rectangle of pasteboard. ‘I am Palgrave.’

‘My lord. I recognise you, of course, from the House….’

‘Never mind the politics. And call me Denham,’ Rhys said, offering his hand. ‘May I present my cousin, Miss Smith.’ He blandly ignored Thea’s raised eyebrows, opened the door of the chaise for them then swung up on his horse, calling instructions to the postilions.

Now she was closeted with an Englishman, one who was a gentleman and a vicar to boot. He was probably even now working his way mentally through the Peerage and coming to the conclusion that the Earl of Palgrave had no cousins named Smith, certainly not young female ones without a wedding ring on their finger. If his mathematics was any good, he was putting two and two together and coming up with a thoroughly scandalous six.

But what other option did they have but to take him up? They could hardly leave him bleeding by the roadside. For the first time since her flight Thea faced the fact that a scandal would be humiliating, sordid and decidedly unamusing.

Thea took a deep breath and willed herself to calm. Panicking would only make her appear self-conscious and that would raise Mr Benton’s suspicions about her scandalous status, even if he had none now.

She cast a harried glance out of the window at Rhys, who at least seemed capable of sitting a horse without collapse, and studied her new companion. ‘You are travelling far, sir?’ That was a safe sort of question and put the focus on him.

‘To the Mediterranean coast.’ He smiled. ‘I have no very clear destination. I am taking advantage of the recent peace to indulge myself with a journey south to the sun before I take up a new position.’

‘A new parish?’

‘No. After I was ordained I realised I was not cut out for the ministry. I desired to put my talents, such as they are, in the service of the reform of society. I have taken a post as secretary to Lord Carstairs.’

‘He has interested himself in the abolition of slavery, has he not?’ It was a cause she had read much about, much to the disapproval of her father, who had interests in the West Indies. ‘It must be a great satisfaction to assist in that endeavour.’

‘Yes, of course, I should have realised you would be knowledgeable on the subject,’ he said, puzzling Thea. But Mr Benton swept on before she could query it. ‘He is also interested in prison reform, and his wife, Lady Carstairs, is active in advancing the education of women. I hope I may make some contribution to all three causes. I was very fortunate that my elder brother, Lord Fulgrove, knows Lord Carstairs well and was able to recommend me to him.’

‘Lord Fulgrove?’ Thea faltered before she could gather her wits.

Mr Benton shifted on his seat. ‘But do I not know you? I thought your face familiar, but I cannot place… I know, I have seen you talking to my sisters Jane and Elspeth in the park.’

Thea stared at him, struggling to find something intelligently evasive to say. ‘I have met them a few times.’ First the risk of scandal, now the danger that word would get back to Papa.

‘I shall make a point of telling them how you aided me,’ Mr Benton said. ‘I write to them almost daily. They will be delighted to know their friend Miss Smith is such a Good Samaritan.’

‘Ah. I, um… We have arrived at the inn. It seems exceedingly shabby.’ She lowered the window as Rhys walked over. ‘I do not like the look of this place. See how dirty the windows are, and the yard is full of rubbish.’

‘Indeed, the merest country drinking house and none too well equipped for travellers by the look of it.’

‘We cannot abandon Mr Benton here.’ The sooner they parted company the better, but she could not allow his health to be jeopardised to conceal her guilty secrets. A blow to the head was potentially very serious, and he had lost a lot of blood, even before his heroic efforts with the diligence. ‘He is travelling south. We can carry him to Lyon and find a doctor to attend to his head.’ She turned to study his pale face. ‘I fear you may require stitches, sir.’

Both men began to speak, but Polly, opening the opposite door to place a small bag on the floor, cut across them both. ‘Here’s the bag with the medical supplies. Mr Hodge thought the gentleman might need a fresh bandage, Lady Althea.’