It had taken every ounce of strength and fortitude he possessed not to bolt after her, pull her from the blasted horse and drag her off to a nunnery. To a place where such mischief would be punished with lifelong seclusion, ten hours a day of solid p
rayer and no supper for a week.
Instead, he simply sat in the middle of the lane, his body rigid, his expression stern, his thoughts confused and chaotic. There was nothing simple about dealing with Miss Beaufort, he thought, his eyes transfixed by the movement of her slender thighs as they gripped and rode the spectacular beast out of view.
He recalled telling her how he’d been in control of everything since the moment he’d carried her over his threshold. She must think him a complete idiot. He had not been in control of a damn thing.
When he rode into the courtyard of Westlands, some ten minutes later, he found Haines in his usual position, perched atop the box of his carriage. His hulking frame filled the seat. Yet it was remarkable how a man his size was adept at making himself appear unnoticeable.
Sebastian caught his gaze and gave him the look that indicated there had been a change of plan. Haines jerked his head towards the carriage, a small inconspicuous nod, and Sebastian led his horse to the door and tapped on the window.
Amy lowered the window and popped her head out, her face alight with excitement. “Yes, my lord,” she said, gripping the window like a pauper would a guinea.
“I am afraid there has been a slight change of plan,” Sebastian said, watching her struggle to hide her disappointment. “Miss Beaufort has made her own arrangements … with the family of a friend, I believe. But I would still like you to travel with Haines as we may join her on the journey. Besides, Miss Beaufort may require your services once we reach town.”
Had he been discussing any other lady, he was certain his story would have sounded reasonably plausible, but Amy put her hand over her mouth to suppress a snigger.
“You will be perfectly safe with Haines,” Sebastian continued, feeling like a buffoon for the umpteenth time, “but I would ask you to draw the blinds as you pass through the village. You may change your mind and stay here if you wish.” He would not force his servants to do something that made them feel uncomfortable.
“No, my lord!” she replied, beaming like a child again. “I’m more than happy to go.”
“Very well,” Sebastian nodded.
As Sebastian brought his horse round to face Haines, he heard Amy close the window. The carriage rocked as if she’d thrown herself back into the seat and he could have sworn he heard her giggle.
“What do you want me to do, my lord?” Haines said.
Sebastian shook his head and sighed. “It appears Miss Beaufort is a thorn to surpass all others.” He lowered his voice. “She has taken it upon herself to ride to London dressed in a tailcoat and breeches. In all our wild adventures, I have never witnessed anything so ludicrous. I doubt there is a man alive willing to tame that one. The woman is an utter menace.”
Haines did not answer, and while his face maintained its usual stern expression, his eyes held the smallest spark of amusement.
Sebastian curbed his temper. “We’ll proceed as planned. But we can’t stop at The Three Crowns, not with her dressed like that. It’s far too busy.”
Haines lowered his head. “We don’t really need to stop at all, my lord, other than to change the horses. The maid seems happy enough in the carriage. We’ve done it before,” he shrugged. “It’s probably best you and the lady avoid the main roads. Well, if you think you can catch up with her, that is.”
Sebastian ignored the last remark as he knew Haines was provoking him. He had wasted time returning to Westlands but was more than capable of making up lost ground. He took out his pocket watch and noted the time. “Give me a twenty-minute start and then I’ll meet you at Rockingham Pool. It’s just a few miles to the Inn on the Green, which is quieter and more secluded. I’m sure after twelve miles in the saddle and with no padding other than a thin pair of breeches, Miss Beaufort will be only too pleased to ride in the comfort of a carriage.”
Every single muscle and every single bone in her body ached.
Sophie was not used to riding without layers of fabric acting as a cushion and she rubbed her hand down her thigh to try to alleviate the stiffness. How on earth did a gentleman ride all day with such flimsy material for protection? Although she had pushed herself a little too hard as she didn’t want to make it too easy for Dane to catch up.
Oh, what she would give for a nice cup of tea and a hot bath.
She slowed Argo to a walking pace and glanced over her shoulder, wondering if she’d made a terrible miscalculation.
What if Dane had no intention of following?
She had never actually referred to him as Dane, not aloud. The ladies, particularly those simpering misses who batted their lashes and craved an alliance, called him Lord Danesfield. To the gentlemen, he would simply be Danesfield, in deference to his title. Sophie refused to be cast in the role of a desperate debutante for it implied weakness, it implied inferiority, it implied a desire for an emotional connection.
Her peaceful deliberations were disturbed by the sound of horse’s hooves pounding the dirt at a considerable speed. She did not give him the satisfaction of turning around, but she knew it was Dane when the horse slowed to walking pace at her side.
“It was good of you to wait,” he teased, patting his horse and commending him for his efforts.
She glanced at him. A faint sheen of perspiration glistened on his cheeks and his hair looked wavy and damp where it met his collar. His eyes were warm with a vitality that stole her breath and she wondered if this was the sight his mistress saw amidst the throes of passion.
She looked away sharply, her lips forming a scowl. “Had I known it was you, I would have bolted for the hills. What does a lady have to do to be rid of you?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never found myself in such a predicament,” he said with amusement. “Besides, I think we both now you wanted me to follow you. To save you from the dangers of stumbling upon a reckless rogue intent on kissing you.”