“I’m not going anywhere. Let me go!”
Indignant now, she sank against the tree as she was released, getting her breath. Then she turned on the man, ready with a mouthful of invective.
The words died on her lips. She’d been accosted by a god!
The fleeting thought passed through her mind as she drank in the sculptured features, beautifully moulded yet taut and tanned, with long-lashed azure eyes just now trained upon the road where the sound of voices barely penetrated Delia’s startled absorption.
The stranger was dressed for riding, booted and spurred, his dark-coloured frock-coat open over a loose shirt, with no waistcoat, and a spotted handkerchief knotted about his neck in place of a cravat. Strands of long, coffee-brown hair, escaping from a queue at the back and from under an old-fashioned three-cornered hat, hugged his lean cheeks and strong jaw. A stubble of beard only added to his air of contained energy.
Delia found her tongue, keeping to a whisper. “Are you a highwayman?”
The startling eyes came back to her and Delia thought a ripple of amusement crossed his face. “Something of the sort.”
Remembrance flitted through her brain. “No, you’re not! You’re the one they’re after, aren’t you? They kept sayinghe.”
The blue gaze continued to regard her. “Astute of you.”
A flush of warmth rose up inside Delia and she hurried into speech again. “They hurt my aunt.”
“Yes, I saw.”
“She’s unconscious.” Her pulse began to speed up again as the memories flooded back. “She would go out there. She threatened them with her pistol. She told me to escape if anything bad happened. I wouldn’t have left her — I wanted to go out to her — but…”
Her voice died as he put a finger to her lips. “Quiet!”
Delia was pushed back against the tree and the stranger crowded into her, his body shielding hers. The close contact was stifling, warm and alarmingly pleasurable. Delia’s pulse shot into high gear and her heart thumped painfully in her breast, heat flooding through her veins.
She could barely think. But a corner of her mind noted his attention was concentrated on whatever was going forward in the road. A murmur reached her.
“One of them is casting around this side of the coach. Keep still!”
As if she could move if she wanted to! Her eyes were level with the hollow of his throat, her breath stirring the blue-spotted kerchief. An aroma of maleness assailed her nostrils and the heat within intensified. Delia lost all control of her thoughts and her limbs felt as if they were melting.
Forever passed.
Release came abruptly as he stepped back. Delia nearly fell and had to grab at the tree behind. Her gaze rose to her captor’s face and found him frowning.
“To the devil with those fools! I’ll have to draw them away.”
Delia’s mind shot to attention. “How?”
His eyes came back to her. “Stay hid here until they ride off.”
“But what are you —?”
“And stay quiet!”
With which, he was off, slipping through the trees with such stealth and swiftness that Delia half wondered if she’d imagined him.
His slim figure disappeared and re-appeared a couple of times. And then he was gone. However much Delia strained to get a sight of him, she found no sign of his ever having been there. A sneaking sense of loss invaded her bosom, but she brushed it off.
Ridiculous. But the brief instant of shared intimacy lingered in her deeps despite every precept of common sense.
With a sigh, Delia turned back towards the road and peeped to see what was happening.
Nothing appeared to have changed. The voices were still rough with argument. She could see Vowles on the box, his hands loose on the reins. The horses appeared to have calmed down. For the first time, she noticed two other mounts, cropping at the grass on the other side, a little way behind the coach. These must belong to the ruffians.
A whinny drew her attention, coming from somewhere away from the coach. She saw the two horses lift their heads and prick their ears.