Page 7 of Road Trip With a Rogue (Her Majesty’s Rebels #3)

Daisy sat up straighter as the lights of Hatfield came into view. Only sheer stubbornness had kept her awake. That, and spite. As soon as the carriage rocked to a halt she jumped down and went to speak to the two hostlers who’d ambled out of the Bell Inn to change the horses.

“Another coach, an hour ago?” The stable boy frowned. “Aye. We changed ’em.” His hair was sticking up at all angles, and Daisy felt a twinge of guilt for pulling him from his bed. “We don’t often ’ave two come through this early.” He yawned. “Are you ’avin’ a race?”

“Something like that.” Daisy resisted the urge to kick the cobbles.

Damn. Violet and Peregrine had decided not to stop. She stomped crossly back to the carriage and Vaughan’s lips twitched as he saw her expression.

“On to Stevenage?”

“Yes.”

To his credit, he didn’t laugh.

Daisy squashed herself into the corner of the carriage and glared dolefully out of the window, resisting the temptation to keep sneaking glances over at Vaughan as they set off again.

The excitement of the evening had ebbed, leaving her drained and desperate to sleep. She should have been back in London with the two runaways by now, not forced into sharing a carriage with the last man in England she’d have chosen as a companion.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t see her luck improving any time soon. Peregrine and Violet might only be an hour or so ahead, but it was going to be almost impossible to catch them.

It was unlikely that they planned to sleep in the carriage and push through to Gretna without a single stop, but even if they decided to spend a couple of nights at inns en route , how could she possibly guess which ones they’d choose?

The larger towns all had multiple options, and it wouldn’t be feasible to visit each one in turn and ask if they were there.

And Peregrine surely wouldn’t be so foolish as to book a room under his own name either, which meant Daisy would have to rely on describing them.

She’d only seen Violet a handful of times at social events; apart from a riot of golden ringlets and large blue eyes, she couldn’t recall much about her at all.

The one time she’d met Peregrine, he’d reminded her of an enthusiastic spaniel.

Daisy sighed into the collar of her coat. The chances of her finding them before they reached Gretna were miniscule.

She might come upon them if they broke down and were stranded, or if she happened to glimpse a golden lion on a carriage door while passing through a town, but she didn’t hold out much hope.

Still, the thought of having to admit defeat and return to London with her tail between her legs was distinctly unappealing.

Nobody could have predicted the night’s unlikely turn of events, but she’d hate to be responsible for disappointing her friends and ruining King & Company’s excellent track record.

Not to mention that Vaughan would be witness to her humiliation.

Not that she cared what he thought of her.

The landscape had been growing steadily lighter beyond the window for the past half hour, and the sun finally peeked above the horizon, spilling its rays inside the carriage.

Daisy glanced at Vaughan and her heart did an odd little sputter in her chest as she got her first real look at him in daylight.

His eyes were closed, his arms folded across his chest, and she took the chance to catalogue the changes in him.

Three years of war had taken its toll, not simply in his injured hand, but in the new lines that spread from the corner of his eyes.

Annoyingly, the rugged maturity only served to make him even more attractive.

His tanned jaw was darkened with just the hint of morning stubble, and she clenched her hand into a fist as she wondered what it would feel like beneath her palm.

He must be twenty-eight or twenty-nine now, the same age as her brother Devlin.

Six years older than herself. When she’d been eighteen and stupid, that gap had seemed insurmountable, but she’d gained a world of experience since that night.

Sometimes she felt decades older than her twenty-three years.

He stirred and she looked away, feigning interest in the countryside, and turned her thoughts back to her current dilemma.

She needed a new plan.

“You need a new plan.” Vaughan stretched his long limbs and rolled his shoulders. “Either that, or admit defeat. The odds of you managing to overtake them are—”

Daisy ground her teeth. “I’d arrived at that conclusion on my own, thank you very much.”

“There’s no shame in ceding the field. Even Wellington did it on occasion.”

His condescending tone made her want to pitch him out the window. He was a man crying out for defenestration. Sadly, the carriage windows were too high and too small to attempt it.

“I’m not giving up,” she growled. “Violet and Peregrine are pampered aristocrats. Neither of them will be used to traveling hard. It takes three full days to get to Gretna, and even if they don’t stop for food, it’s highly unlikely they’ll decide to spend all three nights in the carriage.”

Vaughan brushed a speck of mud from his coat. “Even if they do stop, there’s not much chance of you just happening upon them.”

She nodded in reluctant agreement. “And asking after them at every inn will only waste more time. But if I head straight for Gretna, I might still arrive before them.”

She looked over at him and debated the wisdom of what she was about to do. “How far north are you going, exactly?”

His dark eyes flicked to hers, and she thought she saw a glimmer of interest in their depths. “My country estate, Carisbrooke Hall, is in Yorkshire, up past Harrogate and Leeds.”

“That’s almost Scotland.”

“It is indeed. I hope you’re not suggesting that I let you accompany me—alone and unchaperoned—all the way there.” Her spirits dropped, until she saw the teasing glint in his gaze. “Because that would be scandalous , Miss Hamilton. What if someone were to see us together?”

She indicated her outfit. Her knees and elbows were stained with mud and grass. “Anyone who sees me will assume I’m your stable lad, or a postillion. And when we stop at an inn, I’ll stay out of sight. You can get a room, and I’ll sleep here, in the carriage.”

He was already shaking his head. “You will not. God knows what kind of trouble you’d manage to find.”

“I’d offer to split the reward money with you,” she winced inwardly at the very thought, “but you’ve already said you’re not interested in funds.”

“That’s true. So what else are you offering as an incentive? Because as you well know, I’m not likely to help you out of the goodness of my heart.”

“I can entertain you,” she said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “Traveling on your own is incredibly boring. You expected to have Finch in here with you for the journey, but now he’s having to drive, so you’ll be starved of decent conversation.”

“I’d hardly call Finch an excellent conversationalist,” he drawled. “Unless it’s on the topic of the French, or boxing.”

“Well, then, I’m already ahead. I’ll talk about any subject you like.”

His lips twitched and she had the sinking feeling she was falling into a trap of her own making.

“Really? Any subject?”

She had to catch the runaways, and this was her best option. If it meant making a pact with the devil himself, she’d do it.

Daisy forced a smile. “Of course. I can’t guarantee that I’ll know about every topic, but I’ll certainly try to engage.”

Vaughan looked at her for a long moment and her heart began to pound.

“Very well.”

She bit back a little smile of relief. “Excellent.”

Oh, God, what had she done?