Page 38 of Road Trip With a Rogue

His lips quirked. “Would you believe I’m doing it for the pleasure of your charming company?”

“Honestly? No.”

He snorted in amusement. “Perhaps your comment about me lacking nobility wounded me deeply. Perhaps I’ve developed a desperate need to prove myself a hero.”

It was her turn to raise her brows. “No one would ever confuse you for a knight in shining armor, Vaughan. Not even in the pitch dark.”

“Oh no, how will I live?”

She ignored his sarcasm.

“The Scottish border’s still too far away to reach tonight,” he said calmly. “Your brothers would string me up if I left you to fend for yourself.”

“You don’t think I’m capable of getting there on my own?”

“I think you’re capable of anything you put your devious little mind to, but the thought of you spending the night in a stable, or—even worse—beneath a hedgerow somewhere, makes me break out in a cold sweat.”

“Worried for my safety?” she mocked.

“Worried for any poor unfortunate soul who crosses your path. I can’t let you stab some innocent bystander in a fit of frustration.”

“I’m not frustrated.”

He sent her a knowing look that made her pulse pound. “No?”

His gaze slid to her lips, then down over her front, and her nipples tightened beneath the cotton of her shirt. Heswept lower, staring at the juncture of her thighs, and she pressed her knees together, trying to ignore the flash of stomach-twisting longing that pierced her.

God, he was awful. He knew exactly how much she wanted him, and it clearly amused him to keep her teetering on the edge of sanity.

“Penrith!”

Finch’s shout jolted her from her silent fuming. She turned her hot cheek to look out the window and saw they were pulling into the bustling cobbled yard of an inn whose swinging sign read THEGREYHOUND.

Two private carriages and a mail coach were all getting ready to depart, and there was an air of general chaos as passengers clambered up to sit on the roof, horses shook their harnesses, luggage was stowed, and dogs, chickens, and children darted underfoot.

Daisy almost turned away when a flash of color caught her eye. The young woman being helped up into the farthest carriage was wearing a charming lavender bonnet covered with silk flowers, but it was the riot of yellow-blond curls beneath the rim that snagged her attention. The girl settled herself on the seat in a flurry of lilac skirts as the gentleman who’d helped her in climbed up after her and pulled the door closed.

A golden lion was painted on the side panel.

Daisy gasped. The girl glanced over at her, and even from across the yard Daisy could make out wide blue eyes and a pretty rosebud mouth dropping open in a comical expression of shock.

“That’s Violet!”

She shoved open the carriage door and jumped out before they came to a complete stop, stumbling as she landed. Vaughan shouted her name, but she rushed forward, dodging luggage boxes and weary travelers.

“Stop!”

The driver of Violet’s coach snapped his whip, and Daisy gave a howl of fury as the conveyance clattered forward and out through the gates before she could make a grab for the horses’ reins or attract the driver’s attention. She whirled around and raced back to Vaughan’s carriage. He’d already stepped down.

“That was them! Quick, we have to go!”

She grasped his lapels and tried to turn him bodily back toward the coach, but he simply looked down at her in amusement.

“Get in, Vaughan!” She growled. “They’re getting away.”

He didn’t budge an inch.

She glanced up imploringly at Finch, who was still up on the box. “Mr. Finch. Please. Go after them.”