Nicola Cornick - The Chaperon Bride

‘Yes, my lord.’ Benson sketched a bow to Annis and turned away to marshal his workmen, and Adam reined in the chestnut stallion, which was tossing its head skittishly at the crowd. He raised his voice again.

‘Get back to work, all of you! Don’t you have better things to do than stand around here causing trouble?’

‘No, my lord!’ someone shouted. ‘This is as good as a play, and cheaper!’

There was a rumble of laughter. The tension was dissipating now and the crowd started to chatter and melt away. Annis felt Adam’s arms relax a little about her, but he showed no signs of letting her go. He looked down at the hapless carter and his mate.

‘As for you, Marchant, and you, Pierce, I should haul you before the magistrates for breach of the peace!’

The carter looked sheepish. ‘No harm done, m’lord. Apologies, my lady. We never meant to hurt you.’

‘Pay your toll and get going,’ Adam said abruptly. He turned his head and spoke in Annis’s ear.

‘And now, Lady Wycherley, what the deuce are you doing here?’

Annis turned in his arms and found that his face was very close to hers. There was a frown between his brows and his gaze was very stern. At such close quarters Annis could see his features in perfect detail. His eyes, so cool and grey, were fringed by thick black lashes. There was a crease down one cheek that deepened when he smiled. His skin had a golden sheen and there was a trace of stubble darkening his jaw and chin. It felt odd to be so close to him. Odd in an entirely pleasurable way. Annis felt warm and a little light-headed. Her body softened almost imperceptibly against Adam’s and, as his arms tightened about her again, she saw a flash of desire mirrored in his eyes, hot, sudden, shocking.

‘What are you doing here?’ Adam repeated, very softly.

Annis straightened up hastily.

‘I was paying my toll, my lord,’ she said acerbically. ‘As one does.’

Adam’s gaze went from her flushed face to the carriage, and back again. ‘You are here alone?’

Annis was starting to feel guilty as well as flustered. It made her more annoyed. ‘No. I am not alone. I have my coachman and groom.’

‘Lafoy’s coachman—and Lafoy’s coach.’

Annis sighed sharply. ‘As you see, my lord. Would you let me down, if you please? Whilst I appreciate your intervention, I should like to continue to Starbeck now.’

Adam shook his head. ‘Presently. I would like to speak with you first, if you please.’

Annis opened her eyes wide. ‘Here?’

‘Why not?’ Adam gave her a crooked smile. ‘I find I rather like…our current situation.’

Annis was not in a position to argue. Adam drew rein alongside the coach and leaned across to address the shaken coachman.

‘Drive up to the first crossroads. It leads to Eynhallow and you should have no trouble there. I shall bring Lady Wycherley along in a moment.’ He pulled the horse back and raised his whip in salutation as the coach lurched ahead of them, following the cart up the track. Then he tossed a coin to the tollkeeper and swung down from the saddle, holding his arms out to help Annis dismount.

Annis was both disconcerted and annoyed that she had no other choice but to accept his aid. It was a long way down to the ground and she had no desire to turn her ankle by trying to jump. She placed her hands lightly on Adam’s shoulders and slid down, feeling his arms close about her again to steady her. For a second his cheek brushed hers, his dark hair soft against her skin, then he stepped back and released her gently.

‘You are importunate, my lord,’ Annis snapped, thoroughly ruffled now, ‘both in the way you…you picked me up and the way you set me down!’

Adam raised a quizzical brow. He looped the horse’s reins over his arm. ‘I beg your pardon if I disturbed you, Lady Wycherley.’

Annis turned slightly away and smoothed her skirts down in self-conscious fashion. Adam had disturbed her—very much—but she did not want to admit it. After a moment she was able to regain her composure and fall into step with him on the sun-baked road. The echo of the carriage wheels was dying away up the track and the builders had returned to their work on the tollhouse, and there was no sound but for the birds in the trees and the faint bleating of the sheep in the fields.

‘You are not too shaken, I hope, Lady Wycherley,’ Adam asked, casting her a look of concern. ‘I doubt that they would have hurt you—you simply became caught in the crossfire.’

‘I know.’ Annis put her fingers to her cheek again. The bleeding had stopped, but it felt a little sore. ‘I suppose I was ungracious just now, my lord, and I should thank you for your prompt action. It was kind of you to come to my rescue.’

Adam smiled. Annis’s errant heart did a little flip at the sight of it. ‘It was the first time that I have swept a lady off her feet,’ he said slowly.

The air between them seemed to sizzle with the heat of the day—and something else.

‘I doubt that,’ Annis said, trying to remain practical, ‘and, as a chaperon, I must object to being swept.’

Adam raised one dark brow. ‘Why is that? Do chaperons never experience any adventure, my lady?’

‘Certainly not. It goes against the grain.’

Adam stepped closer. ‘I should imagine that the most useful experience for a chaperon would be to undergo all the things that might happen to one of your charges, in order to be able to advise them what to do in each circumstance.’

Annis choked on a laugh. ‘An outrageous suggestion, my lord!’

Adam shrugged. ‘Tell me if you change your mind, Lady Wycherley.’

Annis started to walk again, her fingers straying to her cheek where the cut was feeling hot and itchy in the sunshine. She saw Adam glance at her and then he took her arm.

‘Come into the shade,’ he said abruptly. ‘I want to have a look at that scratch on your cheek.’

Annis tried to pull away, feeling panic stir in her again. ‘It is nothing—’

‘Nevertheless, I would like to make sure.’

Adam drew her into the shade of a spreading oak tree, dropped the horse’s reins and left the stallion grazing docilely on the bank. He turned to Annis, taking her chin in one hand and tilting her face up to the light. His gaze was intent, his touch was gentle and impersonal, but Annis nevertheless felt as though it was branding her. She tried not to jump away. No one had touched her for a very long time. No one had ever touched her with such tenderness.

‘Hold still…’ Adam’s voice was barely above a murmur, his fingers as light as the stroke of a feather. ‘There is a graze on your cheek, but I do not think it will leave a scar.’

‘It is nothing.’ Annis said again. Her voice was shaky. ‘Please, my lord—’

Adam dropped his hand. His gaze fell to her lips. Suddenly the air between them, hot and heavy already, seemed even more heated.

Annis found that she was shaking. ‘I must rejoin my carriage, my lord,’ she whispered. ‘I am expected at Starbeck—’

There was a pause, then Adam stepped back. ‘Of course. It is only a little further up the road.’

There was a stiff silence between them as they scrambled back down on to the track. When Adam offered her his hand to help her down, Annis hesitated before taking it. Finally, when they were once more walking up towards the crossroads, Annis spoke slowly.

‘How is it, my lord, that it has become dangerous for me to travel alone in the countryside I have known all my life?’

Adam shrugged. ‘These are unhappy times, my lady. Mr Ingram is tightening his grip on a populace already worn down by hunger and poverty. You saw the hostility to the imposition of the tolls just now. It is an even choice as to who is hated more here—Ingram for his greed and meanness or your cousin Charles Lafoy, who was one of them and has now become Ingram’s creature.’