How to Capture a Duke (Matchmaking for Wallflowers Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

raised her chin and strove to keep her voice steady. “Please put the weapon down.”
    He laughed, a deep rumble that grated against her. The frigid temperature verged on unbearable, the icy wind stung her face, and she had no patience to converse with some argumentative driver whose life she was attempting to save.
    “There is a tree in the road. If you go much farther, your coach will be crushed.”
    The driver narrowed his eyes further.
    “No doubt you will consider that it is winter and you are over a mile from the nearest estate.”
    “What is it, Graeme?” A deep voice startled her from her musings. The voice was authoritative and the accent cultured, sweeping her away from the Northern accents, devoid of polish, to which she was accustomed.
    Her heart hammered, and she reminded herself that just because a person was in possession of a pleasant voice, did not indicate a person’s propensity for regular features, wide shoulders, and all the other traits of handsomeness.
    The man peeked out from behind the curtain.
    He was only lifting his head from a carriage window, but it may as well have been from the clouds that soared above.
    Chestnut curls peeked from the satiny edge of a beaver top hat, one more fashionable than any the local vicar was accustomed to adorning himself with, and the features of his face were composed in a stern expression that resembled the driver’s. His nose lay in a straight, unwavering line, and high cheekbones dominated his face, bestowing him a regal look.
    Every feature belonged to a paragon of masculinity.
    Fiona firmed her stance and dug her boots further into the muddy ground. Dried leaves crunched beneath her feet, and she flickered her gaze to the gray sky.
    Dear Lord! No chaperone, no friend, and here she was in the presence of a practical God.
    “We’ve got a problem, sir. This ‘ere lady.” The driver continued to fix his musket on her, and his voice was mournful. “I am afraid, sir, that we are being besieged by a highwaywoman.”
    “Excuse me?” Fiona stuttered and her heart sped, though this time, the handsome man lay not entirely responsible for the blame.
    The attractive man frowned. “Do something, Graeme.”
    “I cannot shoot a woman.”
    The man rolled his eyes. “I would not have you shoot her.”
    The wind that swept over her seemed to have transformed to ice, and she shivered. No way did she resemble a highwaywoman. They must be mad to even consider it.
    “We’ve got ourselves a female highwayman,” the driver said. “Didn’t know there was such a thing.”
    “Women are perfectly capable of many things.” She moved her hands to her hips, remembering only now that she still clutched the knife.
Oh
.
    “The woman claims there’s a tree knocked over in the road!” the driver continued, still gazing at her, as if his mere stare might prevent her from moving.
    “I am not lying!” she said. “And your lives are in peril if you continue any farther. So you should—”
    “Disembark and wait on the side of the road?” The driver sneered.
    “Why, that might be appropriate.”
    “Or perhaps you would suggest that I separate and leave my charge behind with you?” The driver raised his eyebrows.
    “I am doing nothing wrong—”
    “Naturally not!” The driver scowled. “You’re simply conducting illegal activity.”
    “Sir—”
    “Put that knife away.” The handsome man frowned, his voice solemn.
    “I wouldn’t irritate her,” the driver declared. “Women are emotional creatures, sir. Wouldn’t want to think about what they can get up to under stress. Not like us logical males, sir.”
    “That’s enlightening to hear upon returning from a useless war created by men,” the handsome man said dryly.
    “Well, well.” A tinge darkened the driver’s cheeks. “We should all be thankful Napoleon wasn’t a woman.”
    “Who knows what would have happened then!” The handsome man shook his head, his expression filled with such dismay, that