Sassy put the gun near the coach wheel and took to walking, as the carriage steps had broken during the accident and she wasn’t sure she should climb back inside the vehicle in its present position.
The sound of an approaching carriage made her tense, and she closed her eyes with the thought, Oh no, fervently hoping she would not be bothered.
She made a hurried attempt to hoist herself into the carriage but without the steps and with the carriage up in the air at such an angle, it was a feat that would only cause her to engage in antics that would make her appear ridiculous to the occupants of the carriage presently drawing near.
With a sigh of resignation she turned, leaned against the carriage wall, and awaited the inevitable.
~ Five ~
SASSY’S MAD DASH for her carriage and her subsequent attempt to mount and enter the same had not been lost to the observant Marquis of Dartmour. Nor had the fact that she was all too familiar! Time had not dwindled her image, and he could not help but stare at her.
Did he trust himself in this? Could this really be one and the same woman who had occupied his dreams and thoughts and … ?
Oh yes, he thought as they got closer. She was the woman of his dreams. What could it mean? What could he say? Nothing—anyone would think him insane.
He concentrated instead on the fact that it appeared she had reconciled herself to forgo her hasty attempt to climb into her toppled conveyance and stood resigned to their arrival. Amusement tickled him.
They were nearly thirty feet away, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was the young woman he had seen in the little village of Sutton, where his dream had taken hold of him—held him still. He told himself it was his over-active libido, nothing more.
She was by far the most beautiful lovely he had ever seen in his life, and his mind had obviously taken it to the next level. It was no more than that, and he attempted to dismiss it.
He sucked in air and said to Percy, sitting beside him as he tooled his horses to a slow down and then to a stop, “Well, well, Percy, it appears we shall be delayed a bit …”
“Eh, I’d think you’d had enough fooling around last night. Good God, Justin, a pretty on each arm, and Lord knows, probably taking turns with you in bed, and here you are looking for more?” Mr. Lutterel chuckled as he shook his head.
“Ah, but you wrong me, Percy. This is a damsel in distress—or so it appears—and we are fortunate to be on hand to lend her assistance.” What were the odds, he thought as he spoke, that he would find this woman here … now, like this?
“Eh, she does seem to be a bit in the straits.” Percy frowned and added, “And alone, as well? Where is her lady’s maid?”
The marquis didn’t bother trying to answer a question he had no answer for but dropped the reins into his tiger’s hands and jumped with dexterity to the ground. He looked up at his friend. “Do you come?”
“Aye, if only to keep you in line.” Percy chuckled and followed the marquis with more speed than finesse.
* * *
Sassy was frozen in place, unable to think, unable to move. Here he was—the man of her all too real dreams, dreams she believed were brought on by magic. This was the man she’d seen in the village—he had shared the illusion with her. Oh no! Would he remember? What should she do? Act naturally. Pretend she had never seen him before—pretend to know of no such dream and certainly not with him in it. That was what she had to do.
As he made short work of the distance between the ‘damsel in distress’ and his own vehicle, Sassy could not help but take in every inch of his appearance. Faith, she thought with a shiver of anticipation as he barreled down on her. He was beyond handsome!
She took in the fact that his blue eyes glittered with keen interest and some amusement. His mouth curved in a smile that was infectious. His greatcoat was well cut, his breeches of dove knit displayed athletic thighs, and his body—his body was, in addition to being tall, muscular and athletic.
“May we be of some assistance?” he asked as he tipped his hat and allowed his gaze to travel over her slowly.
She found it difficult to speak. Speak? She found it difficult to think. Here he was—him. Somehow she said, “That is very kind, but my driver has gone for help and should be back shortly.”
“But, madam,” said the other man, to whom s
he now reluctantly turned her attention, “are you here all alone?” His tone was, she was relieved to hear, chivalrous rather than chiding.
“Yes, I am afraid so.”
“Could we not drive you to your destination—leave a note for your driver?” suggested blue eyes, tall and hot, with a smile that swept over her body. She proudly put up her chin, for he looked to be a London rogue attempting to flirt with her.
“Thank you … no, that won’t be necessary.”
The second man coughed as he shot a sideways look at his friend. “If you will, ma’am, allow me to introduce ourselves to you. This …” he said, waving his gloved hand toward the other, “is the Marquis of Dartmour, and I am your humble servant, Percival Lutterel.”
The marquis bowed, a bit of a smirk on his face and such a look in his eyes that Sassy wondered if he thought she would be influenced by his status. She shook her head as though this informative bit of news was totally irrelevant but then wanted to kick him in the shins when he leaned into his friend and said, “Did you mean to impress the little bird? I think you missed the mark.”