“Yes, please.” It seemed a safe topic.
“Beechley Park is renowned for its beauty. The house is quite ancient. My family built the first dwelling on the land in the thirteenth century, and a wing of the original mansion remains. The fifth earl rebuilt it in the late seventeenth century. Do you ride, Miss Peyton?” He frowned. “Laura?”
It shocked her to hear her Christian name on his lips; Laura fought a nervous giggle when an image popped into her mind of him calling her Miss Peyton while they were naked. She swallowed, fearing she might be on the verge of hysteria. She pressed her lips together. Well, she had agreed to this.
“There are some splendid bridle paths through the woods.”
His deep voice made her feel foolish.
“I enjoy riding and reading. I imagine you would have a good library?
“An excellent one,” he said, a glimmer of a smile in his eyes.
It appeared she amused him. Did courtesans not read? This was exhausting. If they were to spend the hours in conversation, she feared she would give away her distrust of him and her dislike for this arrangement. What might she talk about to fill in the time with a man she barely knew? Her cat? The latest in the gossip sheets about the Prince of Wales? Laura could write her knowledge of royalty on the head of a pin. She might discuss her latest book,Frankenstein, and the earlier work by whom she suspected to be the same author, titledA Vindication of the Rights of Woman, and they could debate the need for women’s emancipation, but it hardly seemed fitting. And she would bore him to death! She put a hand to her mouth to feign a yawn, while in truth, she was indeed exceedingly tired. “I slept little last night. Forgive me, but I should like to rest.”
Lord Debnam’s lip quirked. “Of course, please do.”
He didn’t believe her. He had probably already decided he’d made a poor bargain. Right now, she couldn’t summon up enough energy to care. She closed her eyes but found it impossible to blot out his presence; his musky cologne lingered in the small interior, as did the vision of his elegantly clad body which took up so much space on the seat opposite. At least he hadn’t made a grab for her. He would behave like a gentleman, she trusted, not a brute. Having somehow convinced herself he would deal gently with her eased her concerns a little, and she settled back against the squab. In truth, she was exhausted. Had been since Robert had first explained this extraordinary agreement to her.
Laura failed to sleep but kept her eyes closed, aware of him opposite as the superbly sprung coach raced toward her inevitable fate.
Sometime later, Laura came to her senses, roughly jostled as the coach jerked to a stop. Her eyes flew open, her heart banging in her chest. But if she wanted an explanation, she wasn’t about to get it. For, without a word, Lord Debnam flung the door open and leaped to the ground.
Laura leaned forward and peered out the open door to watch the scene unfold before her. The coachman had pulled the horses up beside a bridge. Below, the river rushed past in a flurry, in danger of breaking its banks after recent rains. Lord Debnam stood on the road conversing with his footman. “What has happened?” Laura called out.
He turned to her. At the flicker of amusement in his eyes, she realized she hadn’t fooled him. He knew she hadn’t slept. But he hadn’t disturbed her, and for that, she was grateful. The footman put down the steps and offered her his arm.
“A carriage accident,” Lord Debnam said when she’d joined him. “It’s gone into the river.” He was pulling off his coat. Surely, he wasn’t going into that violent, surging water?
“Are the people still inside?” It was difficult to see. She prayed they were now somewhere on dry land; otherwise, they would be in great danger.
“We are about to find out,” he said. “The driver of the stricken carriage is nowhere to be seen. He’s uncoupled the horses, and we trust has gone for help.”
There were deep track marks in the mud where the carriage had entered the water. It rested a few yards from the shore, listing dangerously in the tide’s surge.
The earl handed his coat to her. In his shirtsleeves, exposing his muscled arms, he joined his footman on the bank. They both waded into the water, which rose fast and was almost to their waists before they’d gone a few yards. Both were vigorous men, but they still struggled to open the door against the fast-moving current. It appeared for several terrifying minutes that the river would sweep away the carriage, taking those inside and the men with it.
Alarmed, Laura clutched his coat to her, aware of his scent. She cried out with relief when they wrestled the door open. Inside was a woman and a child.
Lord Debnam carried the woman across to the bank while the footman brought a young girl.
Moments later, with a loud groan, the carriage turned on its side with a loud spray. Luggage floated out. A heavy trunk rolled off the coach into the water and sank beneath the surface. Two footmen waded out, located the trunk somehow, and dragged it to shore.
Laura climbed into Lord Debnam’s coach for the rug. She hurried down the bank. The victims were both soaked and shivering. The woman’s face was deathly pale. She looked to be about to faint. Laura placed the rug over her shoulders. She handed the earl his coat. He took it with a nod of thanks.
“Come inside the coach.” Lord Debnam took the woman’s arm to assist her. “It’s warmer. You can rest there and then tell me what happened.”
Laura smiled at the young girl and held her small hand, which trembled in hers. “What is your name, dear?”
“Mary,” the girl whispered.
“We shall have you warm and dry in no time, Mary.”
Once settled inside the luxurious coach with Laura and the earl, the woman expressed her relief amid shuddering gasps.
Lord Debnam spread his coat over the young girl and ordered the coachman to drive on. The coach rocked as the footman packed the trunk they’d retrieved onto the coach, then jumped aboard. The horses drew them away down the road.
“Are you hurt?” Laura asked them.
