The Highlander's Forbidden Mistress (The Lairds Most Likely 7)

“I can’t move,” the man moaned, pressing against the far door. When the shift in weight set the carriage rocking, Fergus’s stomach twisted in dread.

“Si, you can,” the lady said. She was back peering over Fergus’s shoulder. Just his luck to be stuck with a woman unable to recognize the voice of authority, not to mention good sense. “I know it hurts, Papa, but if you use your good leg, you can do it.”

The man’s terrified eyes sought out his daughter, and Fergus recognized paralyzing fear. So far, the older man showed considerably less fortitude than his daughter. “You’re una ragazza crudele, and the angels despair of you.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Fergus said between his teeth.

“Papa, if you don’t come out, I’m coming in to get you. Then it will be your fault if we both drown.”

“Per pietà, this won’t work.”

“Try, Papa. Per favore. You don’t want to be buried in Scotland.”

“Certo, I do not! Even for a dead man, this country is too cold.”

“In that case, you have to move.”

Fergus was about to tell the woman to be a bit gentler with her father’s fears, when to his surprise, he saw determination seep into the plump features. “For you, then, figlia mia.”

“Take my hand,” Fergus said on a surge of hope, reaching in, while still trying to use his weight to keep the carriage level.

“You, Coker, come and hold the broken shaft to keep the coach steady,” the woman said sharply behind Fergus. Coker must be the blockhead of a coachman.

Grunting in pain, the Italian began to shift gingerly in Fergus’s direction. Halfway along the leather seat, he stretched out a shaking hand. Fergus lurched forward to grab the man’s wrist as he felt the carriage settle further into the mud. Coker must have at last decided to lend his aid.

The next few seconds became an agonizing nightmare of suspense. It seemed to take the older man an hour to get into position. Beside him, Fergus heard the woman’s unsteady breathing and what he thought was a whispered prayer or two.

He realized she wasn’t quite as unemotional about her parent’s plight as she pretended. He liked her better for the hint of vulnerability, and for her courage in keeping it to herself.

This time, he didn’t waste his time telling her to stand back, although if the coach went into the burn, it would take half the bank. The mudslide would carry her away with it.