The man looked over his shoulder. “You talk too much. Watch him closely. He is trying to distract you.”
“I won’t be distracted. You watch the road. The rain is making parts barely passable.”
“I am not trying to distract her. I am just passing the time with conversation.”
“Too much conversation,” the man muttered. “It’s a wonder all those ladies can abide your company.”
So they did know something about him. “Where I come from, conversation is expected. I am considered clever, even witty.”
“Part of your charm, is it?” The woman offered a thin smile with the question. “In these parts we save talking for when we have something to say.”
If there was to be no conversation it could be a long journey. They turned off the main road and jostled down a much poorer one. The wagon bounced in and out of ruts.
He began to stretch out on the bales, thinking a nap might spare him an hour of wet silence. As he did he noticed that the pistol no longer aimed right at him but rather down at the wagon’s floor. The fingers holding it became visible as the mantle edged back.
“Have you no gloves?” he asked.
“Not ones fit for this.”
Not leather then. Knit. He sat upright and peeled off his gloves. Recently purchased but not yet paid for, the gloves with their softness had seduced him as surely as a woman’s velvet skin. He handed them toward her.
The woman hesitated. She glanced at the man’s back, then took the gloves.
She had to set the pistol on her lap in order to pull a glove on her left hand. It was too big, but the fine lambskin meant it would not be too clumsy. Still, it interfered with getting the other glove on her right hand.
Adam leaned forward, took her hand in his, and pulled the glove on for her. He took the opportunity to push the leather lower on the fingers so it fit fairly well.
She watched with wide eyes. She glanced once at her companion in crime, then down again at what he did.
He picked up the pistol and put it back in her hand. She flushed at the evidence that he had indeed distracted her, but not with words. She grasped the pistol with determination while he set about making the glove fit better on her left hand
He looked into her dark eyes, so in contrast with her white skin. She was a handsome woman, with a face that would still be attractive thirty years hence, when the fashionable beauties of the day had long lost their prettiness. When she smiled a severity in her expression disappeared. He peered into the bonnet’s shadow while something nudged at his memory.
“What is your name?” he asked.
“Caroline.”
“I should not address you with such familiarity.”
“I would prefer that you do not address me at all.”
“Then I will pose a question while I have your attention. Have we met before?”
She just looked at him.
The wagon suddenly halted. “What are you doing? Caro, are you mad? We know he is a rogue and a rake.”
She and Adam both turned their heads to where their driver glared over his shoulder. Not at their faces. His scowling gaze rested lower, where Adam still held a gloved hand in his own.
Caroline snatched her hand away. Adam lounged back on the bales and smiled apologetically. The wagon moved again.
And just then, at that moment, the rain turned to snow.
Chapter 2
Caroline regretted that she had scolded her sister, Amelia. Of course the girl’s head had been turned by this man. Between his face and his charm, a female would have to be dead not to be affected.
That Caroline herself had briefly succumbed could be blamed on nature, not her character. She had assumed he would not dare anything with Jason two feet away. She had also assumed he would not find her worth daring anything for. She had not counted on his being a man who flirted and dared for amusement, and perhaps to advantage himself in a situation like this.
