Page 133 of Never Besmirch a Wallflower: Dukes and Wallflowers

“Your Grace, it’s snowing,” Mr. Spencer said, jerking his head toward the coach. “Would you not be more comfortable inside?”

Shaking his head, Levi stuffed his hands under his arms. “My fiancée is walking in this weather. I can ride outside the coach until I find her.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.” Mr. Spencer lifted his whip and cracked it over the back of the two-horse team. “Do you suppose they’re leading toward her house?”

“That’s my suspicion,” Levi replied, his eyes on the snow-covered pavement. “However, I’m not assuming that’s where these tracks lead.”

The soft snowflakes obscured his vision and the trail. He squinted at the moonlit street, struggling to discern Miss Braddock’s footprints, and instructed Mr. Spencer to slow the coach.

“I may need to walk,” he murmured, glancing at Mr. Spencer. “I can’t see the tracks anymore.”

“Perhaps we’ve passed her.” Mr. Spencer twisted on the bench, his gaze sliding across the darkened road behind them. “Do you want to turn around?”

Exhaling a breath that froze to his lips, Levi nodded.

Mr. Spencer turned left at the corner and swung the whip, encouraging the horses into a gallop. He chuckled when Levi grabbed onto the bench with both hands.

“It’s a little different riding up top, Your Grace.”

“You’ll not convince me to change my mind,” Levi replied, bracing himself as the carriage rounded the second corner.

“And that is solely the reason I accepted this position.” The corner of Mr. Spencer’s mouth pulled into a wry grin. “You’re the only employer I’ve ever met who treats men of title and servants exactly the same.”

“I can’t imagine that you’ve been introduced to many gentlemen,” Levi said as they made the third turn.

Mr. Spencer inclined his head. “I have not.”

“Drive slow,” Levi said, squinting at the ground. “This is where I lost the tracks.”

Slowing the horses, Mr. Spencer craned his head, staring at the fresh layer of snow. “Do you see them?”

“Not anymore.” He rubbed his hand over his face.

“We’ll find her, Your Grace.” Mr. Spencer swung the whip, encouraging the horses to increase their pace. “You said that you knew where she was heading.”

“Toward her house.” Levi indicated the direction with his chin.

“Then, I suggest we start from there and work backward to Mr. Venning’s house. Perhaps we’ll discover her.”

Having no other suggestion, Levi reluctantly agreed, hoping Miss Braddock’s industrious mind managed to transport her to her lodgings without any issue.

What if she’d already departed, fearing no one could protect her?

The heart-shattering thought ricocheted through his brain.

“Faster,” he murmured, his fingers wrapping around the driver’s bench.

Mr. Spencer made no comment. He merely extracted the whip from its holder and swung the leather strap over the horses’ backs. The coach careened around the corner, speeding down the lane behind Miss Braddock’s street. Houses whipped past them, blurring into various shades of gray.

They took the next corner too quickly, and the coach slid sideways across the slick street. Wedging his feet beneath the bench, Mr. Spencer grabbed Levi’s jacket and leaned to the left, pulling Levi with him as the side of the carriage smashed into an oak tree.

Ripped from Mr. Spencer’s hand, Levi flew through the air and crashed to the ground, knocking the breath from his lungs. Unable to move, he stared at the starlit sky, mesmerized by the lights swirling above his head.

“Your Grace!” Mr. Spencer vaulted off the driver’s bench, grunting as he landed beside Levi.

Mr. Spencer lifted Levi into a sitting position, yanked a handkerchief from his pocket, and pressed the cloth to Levi’s forehead.

“Should the injury concern me?” Levi’s body throbbed.