The Rogue Not Taken (Scandal & Scoundrel #1)(51)

He blinked, grateful that the girl didn’t know half of it. Because she clearly meant the threat, and King wasn’t certain she did not have the guts and skill to do it. “I do.”

Satisfied, Mary nodded. “What shall we do?”

“Stay here. Try to throw them off our scent for a few hours to let us get away. Stay a few days, if you like.” He gave her a handful of coin from his purse. “That will keep you weeks if you need it. When you’re ready, my coachman will bring you and my luggage to my country seat.”

Mary was uncertain. “We were headed to Yorkshire. There’s a place there. I hear we’ll be safe.”

King shook his head. “There’s a place for you in Cumbria, as well. Or Wales. Or any number of other places. For John and Bess, as well. You shall all be under the protection of the Duke of Lyne.”

“Cor!” John said.

“A duke!” Mary said.

Someday soon. And he’d try his damnedest to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. Perhaps, finally, he could do it.

Sophie looked to King. “Thank you.”

“Thank me when we’re off,” he said, pushing her toward his nearby chest. “You must dress. You’re leaving the pub the same way you came in.”

“Shot and passed out?” John asked.

King lifted the stained-but-clean livery that sat atop the luggage and handed it to Sophie. “As a footman.”

Chapter 10

QUININE: THE CURE

FOR CARRIAGE QUEASINESS

Sophie and King were on the road in less than an hour, Mary and John doing their best to distract the men who searched for them as Sophie clung to the back of the hired carriage, grateful for her prior experience.

Minutes up the road, the carriage stopped, and she scrambled inside, King rapping sharply on the roof to set them once more in motion. “We won’t stop until we reach Cumbria,” he said, “except to change horses. And you will stay hidden. At best, you have a few days before your father’s men find you. If they think you’re with me, they’re already headed to Lyne Castle.”

She shook her head. “My father will receive notice of my plans for Mossband tomorrow. He shan’t bother you after that.”

King raised his brows. “Your father will want my hide, I’m guessing. Doubly so when he discovers you’ve been shot on my watch.”

“That’s nonsense. You weren’t there. You weren’t watching.”

“I should have been,” he said, leaning back in the seat, but before she could consider the words, he said, “Did you pack your tea?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“And the honey?”

“I did.”

“And fresh bandages?”

“I am not a child, my lord. I understand the concept of leaving a place with important possessions.”

He looked away, out the window, and she leaned back in the seat across from him, and attempted not to think of the day. Any of it.

But she couldn’t help herself. “You rescued me again.”

“It wasn’t rescue.”

“It was. You knew I did not wish to return to London.”

He did not reply for long minutes. And then he said, “Someday, I’ll learn to leave you to your own devices.”

But not today.

Today, he’d saved her from being hauled back to her life in London. Today, he’d given her a chance at freedom.

Today, he’d kissed her. In the dark hallway behind a taproom, her father’s bounty hunters on her heels. It wasn’t precisely what she’d expected for her first kiss.

Despite being magnificent.

She ignored the thought.

He seemed utterly unmoved by the kiss, so shouldn’t she be the same? He’d clearly only allowed it because they were being followed. Suspected. Nearly found out. He’d kissed her to ensure the charade appeared legitimate.

It certainly felt legitimate.

Not that it mattered.

It was best she never think of it again.

She sneaked a look at him, eyes closed, arms crossed, long legs stretched across the carriage in an arrogant sprawl, crowding her into the corner of her seat. As though the limits of space should defer to him.

She rearranged herself, pressing into the small space he’d left for her.

It would be easy to forget the kiss if he carried on this way.

He opened one eye. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“No,” she said, making a show of folding her legs tightly against the box of the seat.

He watched her for a moment, then said, “All right,” and closed his eyes once more.

She coughed.

He opened his eyes again, and she noticed the irritation in them. “I am sorry, my lord,” she said, all sweetness. “Am I bothering you?”

“No,” he said, the word clipped, and closed his eyes once more. She heard the lie. What was she to do? Disappear? She’d offered to travel by mail. He’d been the one who had insisted on this wild plan.

Instead, she lifted her legs and pulled them up, stretching out along the slippery wooden seat. The carriage chose that exact moment to hit a tremendous rut, and she had to grab the edges of the conveyance in order to hold her position.

“For God’s sake, Sophie. Find a spot and stay in it.” He did not open his eyes this time.