told you not to call me ‘lass.’”
“You are a lass.”
“Then you are nothing but a boy, playing at being a man.”
He seemed to take no offense; indeed, he smiled slightly.
“Have you a title, then?” he inquired.
She stared at him coldly. “You may call me Miss.”
“Miss. So who are you and where are—were—you going?”
“Are you an idiot, that you don’t recognize a carriage belonging to the Earl of Carlyle?”
She couldn’t tell whether he had recognized the carriage or not, for his next question was not an answer.
“What are you doing in his carriage?”
“I haven’t stolen it,” she retorted.
“That is not an answer.”
“It’s the only answer you’re getting.”
He leaned closer. “But it is not the answer I am seeking.”
“I’m ever so sorry.”
“Pray, don’t be sorry—yet. Simply provide me with the information I seek.”
“You are a bully and a thief. I owe you nothing.”
“I am a highwayman. And your life and safekeeping are in my hands.”
“Shoot me, then.”
He shook his head, irritated. She lifted her chin. She was afraid, true, but she was oddly excited, as well. The blood was rushing through her veins. Ridiculous as it might seem, she felt up to the challenge.
Strangely, she didn’t believe he would really harm her. There was something too…decent?…about his manner.
Perhaps this was simply what she had wanted: something had finally happened in her life. She felt as if she were really living, perhaps for the first time. How sad if it were all about to end.
He laughed aloud and the sound was easy and pleasant. “Let me start over. Dear mademoiselle, pray, please, tell me what you’re doing in the earl’s carriage?”
“Obviously I am going to see the earl.”
“Ah. You’re good friends, then?”
“He is something of a godfather to me,” she explained.
“Indeed?”
“Yes, so you had best take care, lest you truly offend me.”
“I’m afraid it matters not at all to me whom I offend.”
“The earl will see you skewered through.”
“The earl will have to catch me for that, don’t you think?”
“Don’t underestimate him.”
“I never would.”
“Pray, tell, exactly what do you want from me? I’m afraid I’m not carrying any riches.”
He was still smiling, and his foot continued to rest on the log as he leaned close. She found herself wondering how such a man, well spoken, well dressed, smelling clean but with a hint of musk and leather, could have come to such a pass in life.
“Riches may be attained in any number of ways. If you’re beloved of the earl, you’re worth a pretty penny.”
“I’m not that well loved,” she said sharply.
His smile deepened. She wished she could see more of his face.
“Tell me more about yourself,” he commanded.
She folded her hands in her lap. “Tell me more about yourself.”
“I asked first.”
“But you already know more about me than I know about you,” she reminded him primly.
“Ah, but I am the highwayman, and you are the victim,” he said.
“Precisely. Victims are not required by any social standard to be cooperative,” she informed him.
He leaned closer. “Victims are supposed to be frightened.”
“Do you know what I think?”
“Pray, tell me.”
“You are not at all dangerous.”
“Really?”
“It appears to me that you have at least a modicum of intelligence, and that someone raised you properly. And that, if you chose, you could certainly do well enough without resorting to highway robbery and accosting random victims.”
“I’m afraid,” he murmured, “that you weren’t a random victim.”
She was startled, and a trickle of fear began to ice her blood.
“I have nothing. Why would you choose me?”
“You were in the earl’s coach.”
“Again, I tell you, I have nothing worth stealing,” she assured him, more determined now than ever that he believe her.
“You might be quite valuable as a hostage,” he informed her.
“Oh!” she cried in frustration. “You are a fool. What is the matter with you? There are grave things going on in the world. We may well find ourselves in a state of anarchy. Men have been murdered. People are in an uproar. And you are worried about nothing but yourself.”
“Hmm.”
“Hmm? That’s all you have to say?” she demanded.
“Are you going to challenge all the evil in the world?” he asked her softly.
“Are you willing to do nothing about all the evil in the world?” she countered.
He shrugged. “Let’s see…can I change the world at this moment? Probably not. Can I change my own situation? I think so. Because I have you, whoever you are, a passenger in the Earl of Carlyle’s carriage.”
“Please, I have already informed you, I am not worth anything.”
“Come, come. You cannot be that naïve. Not a woman of your obvious…worldliness.”
She flushed, looking away. She felt as if fire were rushing through her. How could she be so ridiculous as to feel such a tide of emotion because of a highwayman? Good God, how pathetic. She would not allow it.
“I’m
