Page 80 of Never a Bride
She told herself not to, even as the steward brought her cloak. She fastened it about her neck, her speculative gaze on Alex. What did he want?
Outside, the groom helped her mount. When she wheeled her horse about, Alex was already in his saddle, and he nodded toward the gate and London beyond.
What did he want with her, and why was she making it so easy for him?
They approached the double gates riding side by side, while the fog wet her hair despite her hood. Everything about them was hidden, as if only she and Alex existed in the world. She relaxed and began to enjoy the intimacy.
On the Strand, Emmeline’s horse suddenly reared up. With a cry, she caught the pommel before sliding off. Hands reached out of the fog, dragging Alex from his saddle. When a club bashed him over the head, she screamed, then felt herself being pulled down into the mist.
~oOo~
Alex awoke to soft hands touching his head, his face and face, even as he felt his body vibrate with the motion of a moving coach. A smell that was all Emmeline, a refined hint of roses and some other mysterious fragrance, wafted about him. He felt pressure on his chest, heard the rustle of silk skirts, and opened his eyes.
Ah, she was close, her face inches above him in the gloom, her hands holding a cloth to his temple. Her changeable eyes were wide and moist and so concerned.
“Alex?”
He gave her a lazy smile, then grimaced. “So is this your attempt to get me alone?”
“This is serious!” she whispered, looking toward the closed door of the coach. “We’ve been captured!”
“So I see.” He almost straightened up from his slumped position, but thought better of it when he realized Emmeline was practically lying across his lap as she dabbed at his head. “I take it that I’m bleeding.”
She bit her lip and held up the cloth that she had obviously torn from her own underskirts. There wasn’t much blood, though his head was pounding enough to ring a church bell. He deliberately winced, then watched in satisfaction as she leaned even closer.
“Does it hurt much, Alex?”
“Not if you’ll continue your tender ministrations,” he murmured, heaving a sigh and leaning into her hand.
“Oh, you!” she suddenly cried, throwing the cloth at his chest and sitting back into the corner of the bench. A dim lantern hung just above her head, barely piercing the darkness.
He laughed as he sat up and waited for the dizziness to pass. “How long have I been unconscious?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, but her glare was already fading. “Close to an hour, I imagine.”
“And we’ve been in the coach the whole time?”
She nodded. “The windows and doors are barred shut from the outside.”
He tested her claim with his own strength. The door didn’t budge, though cracks of daylight teased them.
“ ’Tis those men, isn’t it?” she said softly. “The ones who attacked you before?”
He glanced over his shoulder to smile at her. “How do you know it’s not a suitor, jealous of my attentions toward you?”
Her eyes glinted with anger. “That isn’t amusing, Alex. We’re in danger here.”
“Not if they’re who you think they are,” he said lightly, though tension tightened his body. “They have yet to do any dirty deed well.”
“But you haven’t caught them, have you.”
He shrugged, then sat back opposite her and stretched out his legs.
Emmeline straightened, glancing between him and the door. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“Why aren’t you trying to escape?”
