The sooner they caught up to his cousin and Lady Margaret, the sooner he could return to London.
The cold wind swirled. The neighs of the horses and the chatter of John and William sitting a few yards away were the only sounds around them.
“Very well, then you must call me Delia.” She held out her hand.
Hunt shook his head, not able to stop smiling when it came to the beguiling hellion in front of him.
“Delia.” He took her hand in his, holding it for longer than what was polite, before he released her. “Thank you for finally giving me that introduction. It only took two days,” he teasedbefore walking toward the two servants. “She’s ready, John!” he called to the coachman.
John rushed over to him. “Thank you, my lord,” he said, inspecting the horse’s shoe. “You do better work than Walter.”
Hunt patted the coachman on his back. “Don’t ever tell him that. He and Sampson would demand I shoe all the horses.”
“They would indeed, sir.” John released the horse’s leg. “The nearest town is less than an hour away. We’ll be off the roads before nightfall.”
“Good.” Hunt assisted with hitching Molly back up to the team, then escorted Delia back into the fading warmth of the carriage.
The footwarmer had gone cold a half-hour earlier, making the carriage nearly as cold inside as it was outside. Taking the folded duvet from under his carriage seat, Hunt unfolded it and offered it to Delia. He wasn’t going to let her freeze under his care.
“You’ll freeze to death, Hunt.” She said his name like it had always been on her lips.
He stilled. The sound of his name on those luscious lips, in her deep, throaty voice, had his body responding in ways that were inappropriate for virtual strangers.
Shocking him completely, Delia rose before the horses took off in a quick gallop. She fell on him again, this time her round rump landing in his lap and coming in contact with his hardening cock.
“I’m going to have to catch you at least once to thank you for always catching me.” She moved off him, the cold air immediately reaching his bones.
Every part of him was aware of her. He could hardly breathe without catching the scent of vanilla and lavender. The urge to pull her closer and bury his nose in the alcove of her delicate neck was strong.
She spread the duvet over both of them, making sure he too was covered. It was the first time she’d shown any kindness toward him, and like a fool, Hunt enjoyed it immensely. It wasn’t often he was able to enjoy a respectable woman—well, he’d never enjoyed a respectable woman.
Who had the time?
A woman like Delia deserved marriage, commitment, and love, not a man who was still battling the demon of his dead father.
She shivered beside him. The heat of her hips and thighs pressed up against him was a delicious distraction.
Hunt leaned back, opening his arms wide. “May I?” he asked, longing to have her closer wishing he could warm her and keep her safe from the elements.
“If you promise not to do anything untoward,” she teased, snuggling in his arms.
He pulled her close and tried very hard not to delight in the rightness of it all. “I promise to never do anything without your permission,” he whispered, his fingers squeezing her arm lightly.
It was true.
Not only did he respect her for the strong independent woman she was, but he would never do anything that she was not comfortable with.
The Belle may have named him a rake, but Hunt was still a gentleman no matter what was printed in that blasted gossip sheet.
The carriage jerked again, and he tightened his hands around her, preventing them both from tumbling. It had been a treacherous journey thus far, and he hoped they would reach Augustus and Lady Margaret well before Gretna Green.
“Who are Walter and Sampson?” she asked, placing her head on his shoulder.
It was an intimate position, too intimate for strangers really, but there was nothing uncomfortable about having his hellion in his arms. In fact, it was as easy as riding a horse.
From his earliest memories, he had loved horses immensely. Perhaps it was his mother’s fondness of them as well. She’d inherited an entire stable of them from her first marriage.
“Walter is my stablemaster, and Sampson, you know, I don’t rightly know what he does anymore,” he admitted, laughing.
