Rain began to pound against the top and sides of the coach. Simon closed his eyes, remembering when the change had first come upon him. It had been like a nightmare he'd been unable to wake from. At least he'd had his father to help guide him through his new life.
He'd been foolish not to check on Oliver before now. Twelve years old, for God's sake! Time had somehow gotten away from him. It didn't seem like six years had passed. She was right to be annoyed with his guardianship. Daniel would have expected more.
The coach wheels slid on the muddy road, and Lily gasped beside him. Before Simon could pull her safely to his side, the carriage tilted on two wheels, tossing him onto her. One moment they were all upright, and the next they were on their side.
Simon stared at Lily, trapped beneath him, and scrambled off her. Terror overtook him when he saw blood trickle from her hairline.
***
Lily tried to grasp Blackmoor's forearm as the coach tilted, but she could only flail her arms wildly. Her elbow sunk into the flesh of the duke's nose, but he didn't even grunt. Her shoulder slammed into the side of the carriage, her head into the window frame.
Darkness danced along the edges of her vision.
"Lily?" She heard a voice call from a great distance. A warm hand brushed across her forehead, testing the wound, pressing gently but insistently.
"Lily?" It persisted. Why couldn't he just let her sleep? "Lily, you need to wake up, dear."
Someone else's chuckle broke through the urgency in Blackmoor's voice and reached her. "You've become awfully familiar with Miss Rutledge there, Simon," Lord William taunted. "Using her given name and a term of endearment. Tsk, tsk. One would wonder when you plan to offer for her." The chuckle became a laugh. Then a loud yelp.
"Must you talk?" the duke growled at his brother.
"Not if talking will elicit such a forceful blow to the side of my face. Have a care, won't you? I have an image to uphold."
"You'll heal within moments," Blackmoor murmured.
"Doesn't make it any less painful," Lord William complained.
"Miss Rutledge?" the duke persisted.
The darkness lifted, and she could finally look up at him, his body limned by the light from the window. He was a study in masculine proportions. Broad shoulders. Dark hair that fell in a tumble across his forehead. A simple silver streak over his left temple that was highlighted by the light when he turned his head. He was beautiful, and not because he'd saved her life earlier.
"Now that sounds more like the brother I know. Never let a woman get too close to you, not when the moon is nearly full to fading. Isn't that what you always say?"#p#分页标题#e#
Blackmoor growled low in his throat.
The driver of the coach opened the door, which was now above them. Jenkins poked his head inside, drenching them with a pool of water. "Everyone well?" he asked.
"We most certainly are not well," Blackmoor retorted, his voice harsh. "Who taught you to drive a coach?"
Jenkins quickly retreated from the doorway. "I'll just go gather the horses," he said as he vanished from view. Lily thought she heard him say something about poor-mannered noblemen.
She reached up to touch the wound at her hairline and winced.
"Be still," Blackmoor commanded her.
"Can you go five minutes without giving me orders?" she asked as she sat up. "I'm fine. Just a bump on the head." The walls of the carriage spun as she stood up.
The duke growled.
"I do like her," Lord William said as he pulled himself up through the open doorway to kneel on the top of the coach. "Not even drizzling anymore." He held out his arms. "Here, pass her up to me."
Blackmoor hesitated. Lily slipped past him, her body brushing against his, and raised her hands up toward Lord William, feeling rather like a baby waiting to be picked up by her parent.
Lily gasped when Blackmoor's warm hands spanned her waist. Having his hands on her person felt almost scandalous. Yet wildly comforting at the same time.
He lifted her effortlessly toward his brother's outstretched arms, which pulled her safely and quickly out of the coach. "Welcome back, Miss Rutledge," Lord William laughed.
She had to admit she enjoyed his easy-going nature, which was so unlike his rigid brother's. He had a boyish grin and a rakish twinkle in his eye, the contrasting traits mixing nicely in the man.
Before she could speak, the duke pulled himself from the coach and sat beside her on top of it for a moment. She could see Jenkins slogging down the muddy road in the distance as he led the horses back to the coach. If there wasn't too much damage, maybe they could soon be on their way.