Page 42 of If the Duke Dares
Probably not.
Yes, that was a better way to think of it. Safer, certainly. And easier.
Lost in thought, Persephone didn’t realize the coach had slowed until they’d come to a complete stop. They were nowhere near Bath. She estimated their time in the coach at about an hour.
Acton didn’t even stir. She wouldn’t wake him unless it was necessary. Moving quietly to the other seat, she slid to the door. The moment she touched the handle, she froze. What if there was something wrong? Something dangerous? Perhaps they’d been stopped by a highwayman.
Wouldn’t she have heard shouting or something? She shook her head and rolled her eyes at Acton.He’dput such thoughts in her head by warning her against things such as bad men and rats.
Still, she’d wait until the coachman came to the door.
After a moment, he did, rapping on the wood. “Your Grace?”
Now Acton did rouse, his eyelids fluttering. Blinking, he unfolded his arms and lifted his head.
“We’ve stopped,” Persephone said. “The coachman is outside.”
Acton wiped his hand over his face, then opened the door. “What’s happened?”
The coachman’s face was creased into worried lines. “One of the horses threw a shoe.”
“Damn.” Acton’s face mirrored the coachman’s. “Let me see.” He climbed down, then offered his hand to Persephone.
“I’m not a farrier, Your Grace,” the coachman said nervously. “I’ll have to go to the nearest town and fetch one.”
She followed them toward the front of the coach and watched as the coachman indicated the horse. It wasn’t difficult to see which one was missing a shoe since he was favoring that leg.
Acton stroked the animal’s neck. “That’s no good, my boy. But we’ll set you to rights in no time.” He turned to the coachman. “Any idea how far the nearest village is?”
“Just a few miles.”
“Good thing we have my horse. You ride him into the village and find a farrier.” Acton reached into his coat and pulled out several coins. “Pay him that and tell him the Duke of Wellesbourne requests his aid.”
“Right away, Your Grace.” The coachman went to the horse and murmured soothing words before hurrying to the back of the coach and untying Hercules, who’d been saddled in case Acton had wanted to ride part of the way. “I’ll be back before you know I’m gone.”
“We’ll be fine,” Acton said, waving as the coachman rode off. Returning to the horse, Acton whispered, “We’ll get you sorted. Looks like the coachman knows what he’s about. No damage done, eh?”
“The horse is all right?” Persephone asked. She knew how to ride, but was woefully uneducated in the overall care of horses.
“Seems to be. Looks as though the coachman stopped right away, so the horse wasn’t shoeless for too long. That’s when problems happen. I would have hated to see that.” He continued to pet the horse. “He’s a sweet lad, aren’t you?”
Persephone couldn’t help smiling at the way he coddled the horse. “You’re very kind. I didn’t know rogues troubled themselves with caring for horses.”
“We do all sorts of nonroguish things, such as read crop treatises, discuss the latest scientific discoveries, and debate the best walking sticks.”
“But you can’t hem a gown,” she said saucily.
“So true,” he replied ruefully before grinning. “Shall we wait outside for the coachman to return since we’ll be cooped up in the coach for hours?”
The coach was pulled off to the side of the road, and there was a grassy area where they could sit on a blanket. There was also a hedgerow nearby, and she envisioned armed brigands leaping out and shouting, “Stand and deliver!”
“Is it safe?” she asked.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I’m afraid your dire warnings about danger lurking about me has made me expect the worst. When the coach stopped, I did wonder if there might be a highwayman.”
“Oh no.” He pressed his lips together, and it became evident he was trying not to laugh.
