Page 8 of How to Ruin a Rake

“Perhaps it fell out in the coach?” Lady Allegra suggested. “We did get turned onto our side.”

“That bad, eh?” He regarded her quizzically for some moments. “How is it that I don’t remember a single thing about the accident?”

She looked down at her hands. “I have heard that sometimes after a blow to the head, one’s memories are somewhat confused.”

A rush of memory obligingly resurfaced, and Max glared at her. “You hit me.”

“I have no idea what you are referring to, sir.”

Her heightened color and inability to meet his gaze confirmed his suspicions. “You threw a bloody book at me!”

“Surely not.” She raised her eyebrows. “I distinctly remember someone telling me that women can’t throw.”

He raised his hand and gingerly touched the still prominent lump on his forehead. “You could’ve killed me.”

“With a skull as thick as yours?” she asked. “I sincerely doubt it. You were masked, and you were abducting me. I had a perfect right to defend myself.”

“No wonder we ended up in the middle of nowhere when I wasn’t able to tell … my friend to turn the coach around.”

“Oh, we’re back to blaming me now, are we?” Lady Allegra threw up her hands. “What a surprise.”

Mrs. Lacock cleared her throat as she entered the room. “Excuse me, sir? My husband says he’s ready to take you to where you believe the carriage accident happened.”

“That’s very good of him, ma’am.” Max smiled at their hostess and rose to his feet.

“You’re not going by yourself.” Lady Allegra stood up. “I want to come, too.”

“If you must.” Max was already moving to the door. “But I don’t see the point.”

“I wish to make sure I see the wreckage in the light of day so that when I report you to the authorities, I will be able to give them all the salient details.”

Max held the door open for her as Mrs. Lacock looked on, with all the vicarious delight of someone involved in a scandal. “I should’ve known you’d be the one Musgrove who is a stickler for the proprieties.”

She swept past him. “Then you’d be quite wrong. You should meet my real brother. He’s far worse.”

Mr. Lacock awaited them with his horse and cart. Two of his dogs jumped into the back and settled into the straw. Max picked Lady Allegra up, deposited her on the narrow bench seat, and hopped up beside her. It was quite a squeeze with the three of them. The cart lurched as it started off, and Max instinctively put his arm around her, making her flinch.

“I can assure you I have no amorous intentions, my lady,” Max said. “I simply have no desire to end up in another ditch.”

“Mr. Lacock is far too careful a driver to do that to us,” Lady Allegra said, her posture as stiff and unyielding as a board. “And I am quite capable of looking after myself.”

Max didn’t contradict her, but he didn’t remove his arm, either. They rattled down the rutted track to the farm gate. Max got down to open and close the gate and rejoined them on the other side on what appeared to be the junction to the main hedge-lined road.

“Which way did you come from?” Mr. Lacock asked.

“From the right,” Lady Allegra said.

Mr. Lacock looked at Max for confirmation, and Max shrugged. “You’ll have to take the lady’s word for it. I have very little recollection of any of the journey.”

They turned right. The sun was rising over the flatness of the land, which was sparsely decorated with trees displaying the last of their summer greenness. Sheep grazed across the landscape, but there was little sign of habitation.

“Not many neighbors, Mr. Lacock?” Max asked.

“No, which is just how I like it.”

“Do you keep sheep?”

“Yes, sir. For meat and for shearing.”