And suddenly the tongue lashing he’d been prepared to give her withered.
“I heard you speaking to Coachman Will, having decided to drive the coach over, which, quite frankly, sounded terrifying to me.” She lifted her chin and stared up at him, looking ridiculously demure. “So I crossed on foot. If I fell in, I’d have only myself to blame. There were a few dicey steps, but otherwise, it was easier than I had imagined.”
Another raindrop threatened to make the journey to delightful places, and dash it all…
Her eyes sparkled with pride as she… smiled at him.
And he practically forgot his own name.
“I... see,” he said eventually.
And he did. This was about more than just one instance of simple disobedience.
Rather than shake sense into her as he’d intended, Jasper instead gathered her into his arms.
Crossings had ruled her with a heavy hand, mandating even the most insignificant details of her life. She’d been denied the most basic opportunities to assert her independence.
And amongst the ton, she’d been the Diamond of the Season—the perfect daughter, raised to perform the perfect wifely duties for some aristocratic asshole.
Something had snapped in her that day at the altar. She’d been pushed too far. And having turned her back on her former life, she was willing to push back on anything that resembled the bonds she’d broken.
Jasper could sympathize, being all too familiar with the phenomenon.
On the other hand, however, he realized that when a person acted out in rebellion, one could easily go too far in the opposite direction. And that, he knew, posed a very real danger, which he was going to have to address.
But for now, he squeezed her closer, so damn relieved to have found her unharmed.
“Don’t do that again, Nia. You took ten years off my life.” He damn well nearly choked on his own emotions, and it wasn’t something he was accustomed to. “I had no idea where you’d gone. Anyone could have taken you. Do that again and you’ll wish you’d jumped into some other man’s carriage.” But he didn’t mean it. He had his arms firmly wrapped around her, and he couldn’t let go until his heart resumed beating at its normal pace.
However…
Once they were on the road again, he was going to lay down some rules. Yes, she’d been ordered about for most of her life, but if she wanted his protection, she was going to have to learn to listen to him—to follow his instructions.
And trust that he wasn’t at all like her father.
To trust him, period.
Because without trust, she could write up all the contracts she wanted and none of it would matter. They might be a team, yes, but Jasper, well, he was the coach.
The sound of hooves pounding their way across the wooden bridge, along with the creaking of the carriage that followed, made Nia wiggle out of his embrace. One of the planks slipped out from beneath a wheel, and the coach lurched, but with a flick of the reins, Coachman Will dislodged the wheel and made it to solid ground.
Nia went to step toward the vehicle, but Jasper’s frustration kept him from letting her walk away. The grass was slippery. The mud was thick and deep in places, so he bent forward, winding his arms around her thighs, and threw her over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” she demanded as he marched to the carriage. Both Coachman Will and Peters, the outrider, looked on, grinning openly.
“Saving you,” Jasper said. It was a ridiculous answer.
The rational part of his mind realized that, at this point, carrying her was unnecessary, but he’d yet to have worked off the anxiety from a few moments before.
So, save her, he would.
Providing no additional explanation, Jasper paused just long enough for Peters to set down the step and hold the door, and then stepped forward and dumped her into the carriage.
Indifferent to the mud covering most of his clothing, he climbed in behind her, slammed the door, and took the seat beside her.
The coach jerked, and as they once again proceeded along the road, the blood in Jasper’s veins alternated between hot and cold.
He wasn’t the sort to allow himself fits of temper. But this was different.
