Page 4 of Road Trip With a Rogue

Lucien schooled his face into the expression of bored indifference he’d perfected over the years. “I could ask you the same thing,Dorothea.”

She scowled at his deliberate use of her full name—she’d always despised it—and he bit back a smile. God, he’d forgotten how much he loved teasing her. It had always been his favorite guilty pleasure.

“It’s Daisy,” she said, pushing herself to a seated position. “And I asked first.”

He rose and stepped back, not trusting himself near her now that she was fully conscious.

“A man can travel in his own carriage, can’t he? What areyouup to, dressed like that, and interrupting a highway robbery? Are you mad? Does your father know the danger you’re getting yourself into?”

“I don’t suppose he’d care.”

“He certainly would, if his only daughter turns up dead by the roadside dressed as a stable boy,” he said. “And what about your brothers? I can’t imagine they’d approve of such idiocy. God, I ought to spank you for being such a fool.”

A splash of red stained her cheeks as she glared up at him. “Don’t you touch me. What I do is none of your business.”

She started to stand. He put his hand down automatically to help her, but she batted it away. “Get off. I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” he retorted. “And you became my business when you showed up here, ruining my night.”

“I just saved your life, you ungrateful beast!” She glanced behind her at the bodies lying in the road and shuddered. “If I hadn’t stepped in you would have been shot.”

He raised his brows. “You think so?”

She frowned, clearly realizing that her help might have been unnecessary. Despite the fact that Geordie, his coachman, had been wounded, he and Finch had been more than capable of dealing with the interruption.

“Why did you intervene?” he pressed. “You certainly didn’t know it was me in there.”

“Of course not,” she said bitterly. “If I’d known it wasyou, I’d have ridden in the opposite direction. I thought the coach belonged to someone else.”

“Who?”

“It doesn’t matter. Where are my knives?” She tried to move past him, but he blocked her with an easy sidestep. She scowled as she encountered the expanse of his chest, but didn’t come close enough to touch him. Wise girl.

“Finch has them.”

He nodded to Finch, who’d reclaimed her second blade from the corpse’s shoulder and was busy dragging the bodies to the side of the road with his usual brisk efficiency.

She held out her hand, palm upward. “Give them back.”

Finch glanced at him for permission, but Lucien shook his head. “Not just yet.” He turned to the box, keeping her in his peripheral vision as he did so. He didn’t trust her not to try to run while his attention waselsewhere. His hand itched to grab her wrist to detain her, but he resisted.

“How badly are you hit, Geordie?”

His old army mate gave a grunt of annoyance. “Bastard got me near the elbow. I’ve bound it up, but the ball’s lodged in there. It’s going to need to come out.”

Lucien nodded. “Move over, then. Finch can drive us to the nearest inn. Where are we exactly?”

“Just to the north of Hampstead Heath,” Daisy supplied, irritation clear in her tone. “Barnet’s about four miles that way.”

He glanced down at her. She really was incredibly small. Barely up to his shoulder. It was a miracle Finch hadn’t done any permanent damage to that pretty neck of hers. The thought made him a little queasy.

“Good. In that case, why don’t you get in the carriage while we move that log?”

Her recoil was almost comical. “What? No. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He sent her a cynical look. “You are if I say you are.”

“My horse is just over there.” She gestured vaguely into the woods. “I’ll be off as soon as your man returns my knives.”