Page 38 of In Want of a Wife
“Do men ever see what women do as valuable?” Lily brushed a few crumbs off the chest of her dress, drawing his attention to her full bust and the way the red fabric of her traveling dress was tailored perfectly to her curves.
Red today, not the many shades of blue she had worn so far. If pressed, he would admit he preferred the blue.
He cleared his throat, then thought of the frigid ocean and Mr. Chapman’s horrible gooseberry pie. “The good ones do, yes.”
She laughed in spite of herself, her brown eyes sparked with such mirth. “One day you must avail yourself and show me these good men, Rafe. I highly suspect that a request for a meeting to discuss my manuscript will be dismissed. Now, if the manuscript had a male’s name…”
“Whoa, whoa,” the driver called out.
The carriage suddenly jerked to the right, sped up for a moment, then shuddered to an abrupt stop.
“Rafe?” Lily gripped her book, her eyes wide and full of panic.
He glanced outside. The fog was lifting, revealing the winding stonewalls and deep green fields of Wales he found himself missing far too much, more than he’d like to admit.
“I’m sure it won’t be long before we are on our way again,” he said, more to himself than Lily. But something didn’t feel right. The hairs on his neck stood up, and the same icy shiver that usually rushed through his body before the first cannon fired did so now.
She shut her book and leaned forward, peeking out the window. “Maybe something is wrong with the?—”
A balding man rushed the carriage and ripped open the door on Rafe’s side. He bolted upright and leaned forward to shield Lily from the stranger.
“Don’t move!” The man’s voice was a vicious, low snarl. His upper lip curled, revealing a row of yellow, crooked teeth. A long scar stretched from his right cheek to the bottom of his chin, and he smelled of every tavern between here and London.
Lily gasped, then jumped forward, and squeezed Rafe’s shoulders from behind.
The man pointed the gun at Lily. “No screaming, miss.”
His heart drummed in his ears as Rafe pulled on a false sense of calm, meeting the man’s vacant stare with aplomb.
“Your money and jewelry now. Give it here!”
Rafe motioned with his chin toward his jacket. “May I…?”
“Come on, come on,” the man demanded. He looked over hisshoulder quickly and staggered back a step. He grumbled, then swung his attention back to Rafe. “Don’t think I won’t shoot.”
That was when Rafe noticed the driver on the ground, tied up. If he and Lily were to escape this, then they must listen without much protest. Rafe would wait for the right moment to catch the man unaware. He quickly reached into his pockets, pulled out what he had for money, twisted off his father’s gold ring from his pinky finger, and handed it over to the man, cursing to himself.
What were they to do with no coin for the rest of their journey?
“Now you, miss.”
Rafe glanced over his shoulder, silently urging her to do what the man said.
She muttered something under her breath before reaching for her reticule, opening it, and removing what little she had for coin. “Here.”
“Now, out,” the man ordered. “You first,” he shouted at Lily. “Leave out your door and hands up.”
“Rafe?”
Her shaky whisper shattered him. He dragged in a deep breath, never once looking away from the man with a gun pointed at his face. “Go on. It will be all right.”
She fumbled for the door handle, then tumbled out, scrambling onto the side of the road.
“Over to that tree now. Both hands on the trunk. No moving, no talking.”
The man’s portly face reddened as he waved the gun in Rafe’s face and motioned for him to climb out on Lily’s side. He didn’t want to put his back toward the man, but he was at a disadvantage traveling with no real weapons beside Lily’s not-so-deadly stack of books. And he couldn’t chance her being injured from a miscalculated move.
Rafe reluctantly nodded, slowly pivoting in his seat and meeting Lily’s wide-eyed panic.
