Madeleine returned his direct gaze and nodded. “The bigman wouldn’t give her the reins. He had to lead her. She doesn’t have a good seat; she was wobbly.”
“Good to know.” He ruffled her hair as he rose and looked to the adults for confirmation. When they both nodded, he said, “Unless they get impatient with her and force her to ride with one of them, she’ll slow them down.”
Mrs. Tyler regarded him hopefully. “Then you’re going after her?”
“I am.”
Mrs. Bancroft frowned deeply, not at all optimistic. “Alone? On foot? Shouldn’t you wait for help? Form a posse?”
Remington Frost thought she posed good questions, but since he hadn’t worked out the answer to any of them, he simply touched a forefinger to the brim of his hat, offered a grim, parting smile, and turned to go. He could almost feel them staring after him as he went in search of the engineer.
Chapter Three
“Excuse me,” said Phoebe. When no one responded even so far as to look in her direction, she repeated herself in a louder, more strident tone. This time Mr. Shoulders, who was in control of her horse’s reins, slowed just enough to bring her mount abreast of his. She noticed the two reprobates riding side by side in the lead did not pause or deign to glance back. That was just as well. What she had to say was not meant for the entertainment of the entire party.
“What is it?” Shoulders asked impatiently. The scarf he still wore over the lower half of his face muffled his voice, but it did not make the words he barked out any less severe.
Intent on whispering now, Phoebe nearly unseated herself as she leaned toward him and rolled her eyes in a significant way to indicate the sparse scattering of greenery on her left. “I need a moment.”
Shoulders quickly closed the gap between them and extended his injured arm to keep Phoebe in her saddle. He did not have to push her back into position. His touch accomplished that.
“For God’s sake, woman,” he growled. “Watch what you’re doing.”
Phoebe settled more firmly in the saddle, but the effect was the opposite of what she wished. The warm leather under her nether regions reminded her how urgent her need was. “Really,” she said. “I need a moment.”
“We’re not stopping. You’ve slowed us down enough already.”
She felt compelled to remind him, “I told you at the start that I’d never ridden before.”
“Uh-huh. And you’re not riding now. You’re sitting. More or less. And she’s doing all the work.”
“She? What’s her name? Perhaps I would do better if she and I had a conversation, became better acquainted.”
“Lady, your bag is missing a few marbles.”
That gave Phoebe pause. “My bag is... oh, you are referring to my mental acuity, implying that I am, if not precisely brainless, at the very least a slow top. Do I have that right?”
Shoulders stared straight ahead. He shook his head slightly and swore under his breath. “Give it a rest,” he told her.
She sighed. “That is the very thing I should like to do, but if you will not stop, then I must find distractions. There isurgency, you see.”
Shoulders halted his mount and kept Phoebe’s mare in check. He called out to the men in the lead. “We’re stopping. Call of nature. You go on and we’ll catch up.” He paused and then added with a thread of sarcasm, “Eventually.”
The pair nodded as one and maintained their forward progress. Shoulders waited until they were fifty yards away before he dismounted. He growled at Phoebe when she did not wait for his help. He managed to catch her before she completely unseated herself.
“Jeez, woman. Have a care.” His fingers pressed hard into either side of her waist. “Where’s the percentage in you breaking your neck?”
“My name is Mrs. Harriman Apple,” she said, mustering her dignity. “Notlady, notwoman.And unless you mean to carry me to those bushes, I would be grateful if you would remove your hands from my person.”
He removed his hands, even held them up as he stepped away in a show of surrender. “Butter damn well doesn’t melt in that mouth of yours, does it?”
Phoebe merely flattened her lips in response.
Mr. Shoulders jerked his chin in the direction of a thicket. “Go on. Attend to your business.”
It was harder to maintain any sense of poise when she had to pick her way over rocky ground to reach the sparse covering of thorny bushes. She circled the thicket, found it unsatisfactory because she could see through the spiny, leafless branches, and called out that she was going to higher ground for relative privacy behind a small outcropping of rock.
Mr. Shoulders did not object except to warn her not to try to make a break for it.
