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Baron? Jane’s pulse kicked up a little higher. She’d had no doubt that he was a gentleman, but one with a title?

It was Lord Hollings who broke the awkward silence first. “Well, Miss Ephram. Shall we retrieve your things?”

He presented his arm with a little ironic raise of his eyebrow. Reluctantly, she laid her hand in its crook and let him lead her from the kitchen.

Upstairs, Lord Hollings stood outside her door as she retrieved her bag. The next stop was a quick word to the earl’s coachman and Elspeth about how it had also been their responsibility to make sure that Lady Margaret arrived at Holmesfield Hall safely. They all shouldered the blame, so it wasn’t difficult to get the two to agree to press on to Yorkshire but stop a few towns out from the estate and wait for word at an inn. Jane and Lady Margaret would rendezvous with the servants as soon as they were reunited. In the meantime, she’d concoct an explanation for why they’d been delayed. If she was lucky, a very convenient, very English rainstorm might wash out a road and provide her with the perfect excuse. She was due for a little bit of luck after the morning she was having.

In the innyard, Lord Hollings moved swiftly, securing a mount for her and tacking up his own horse he’d ridden while on his trip to deliver the mythical Merlin wherever they were due. He moved with the easy confidence of a man who was most comfortable in this world of oiled leather saddles, bridles, and currycombs. His hands moved swiftly as he placed his horse’s pad and saddle, adjusting them with a couple of quick movements. Once his horse was saddled, he inspected her mount and flipped up the flap covering the girth strap’s buckles to check the give, even though the inn’s stable boy had just done the same. Then he placed his hand on the neck of her mare, settling the animal.

“Come on, then,” he said, tossing a look over his shoulder.

Jane stared up at the sidesaddle. She hadn’t been lying when she told him that she could ride—she’d learned enough so when her charges asked her to join them she could slowly make her way across a country green—but that didn’t mean she particularly enjoyed the experience.

“Is something the matter?” he asked.

She bit the inside of her lip but shook her head. Confessing that she’d never really graduated beyond being a nervous horsewoman would be an admission of weakness and just the sort of ammunition he’d need to shoot down her insistence that she join him on this trip. “I’m just thinking about how stiff I’ll be when the day is done.”

A little smile touched his lips. It was such a small thing, but in it was a warmth she hadn’t seen from him yet. Humor crinkled the edges of his eyes, and his expression was somehow softer. Lord Hollings looked like the sort of man a woman could lose all sense over.

She shoved aside the thought and the attraction that accompanied it. The baron had one job: to escort her safely to Lady Margaret. That was all. He wasn’t going to be anything more than that, no matter how easily she could fantasize about the graze of his lips over the sensitive skin at the base of her neck.

“I think you’re afraid,” he said, his tone almost teasing.

The butterflies in her stomach took flight, and for a moment she could imagine what it might be like if she were bold enough to flirt coquettishly, as she’d seen Lady Margaret do since the girl was old enough to understand that holding a gentleman’s attention could be a pleasurable thing.

“Quite the contrary,” she said, forcing her chin up a little higher than usual. “The only thing I’m frightened of, sir, is your manners. A gentleman would never question a lady’s courage.”

A full grin broke out over Lord Hollings’s face. “Well, in that case . . .”

Before she could protest, the baron wrapped his arms around her midsection and swept her up in the air. It was breathtaking, this feeling of weightlessness with a man’s firm grip on her. Time seemed to slow to let her luxuriate in the moment. And then, just as suddenly, her backside hit the hard leather of her sidesaddle and jolted sense back into her.

She cleared her throat, hoping that Lord Hollings was too polite to notice she was blushing like a schoolgirl.

“Next time I’d appreciate a less direct approach,” she said, trying to force a degree of frostiness into her voice and jam a wedge between the two of them.

He reached out to pet her horse’s neck again. “I’m merely assisting. I thought you were eager to get on the road.”

“I am, but a mounting block would’ve meant that it could have been done without manhandling me.”

Mischief danced in his eyes. “That wasn’t manhandling.”

“Then what would you call it?”

He leaned in. “Miss Ephram, I can assure that if I were to manhandle you, you’d know.”

She sucked in a breath, but whether it was out of anticipation or anxiety she couldn’t honestly say.

“I gave you my word as a gentleman that you would travel unharmed,” he said.

“Your word?” she asked, not quite stifling her snort. “Your memory seems to be failing you, sir. I was the one who explained to you in no uncertain terms that I am a governess.”

“You wear your profession like a shield.”

“And isn’t it?” she asked. The job had protected her against abject poverty. It had shielded her against the roaming hands of Lord Rawson’s friends, reminding them—sometimes less than gently—that to defile a woman in the earl’s employ would be an insult to the man himself.

She was alone in the world save for two friends back in London who’d once taught too. Except their stories were different. Elizabeth had become a physician’s wife and was expecting her first child, and Mary had soared to unimaginable heights when she assumed the role of countess. Jane shared their happiness, but she couldn’t help feeling a little left behind. Her position was all she had, and so day after day she pulled her armor on to keep everyone else out. No one would know her secrets and ambitions because she didn’t share them with a soul.

Lord Hollings’s expression had softened again, but she didn’t like it. In place of the teasing there was pity, and that poked at her pride. She wanted to tell him that there was nothing for him to feel sorry about. Jane had gone from unwanted child to respected governess. She was trusted by the countess and earl, and perhaps maybe even a little loved by Lady Margaret in the young lady’s self-centered way. She didn’t need this man’s sympathy.