Wagered to the Duke (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Read Online Free Page B

turned to do the same.
    The only thing between Kate and this side of the barouche was a stone wall. Behind the carriage was the inn, while in front of it was the rest of York.
    Either way, she was trapped.
    Then, as if she didn’t have enough hindrances already, the footman produced a pistol, aiming it at her over the backs of the horses.
    “Don’t you dare fire that thing, you fool,” said the coachman. “It’ll spook the horses, and—”
    A deafening gunshot rent the air.
    Kate screamed.
    The horses, meanwhile, did exactly as the coachman foretold. They thrashed and reared in their traces and then bolted as Kate tumbled to the ground.
     
    * * * *
     
    It occurred to Nathan at about the very same moment he fired his pistol in the air that it probably wasn’t such a good idea to do that when Miss Hathaway was too close to the barouche that took off across the inn yard as if fired from a catapult. The manservant who’d been pursuing Miss Hathaway now chased the barouche, reminding Nathan of the time he’d run after a similar vehicle some twenty years ago but failed to catch up due to his short, eight-year-old legs. The manservant wasn’t so unfortunate, for he swiftly caught up and leaped onto the tiger’s seat.
    “Oh, so that’s why Your Grace told me to drop what I was doing and hold these horses,” said Bilby, keeping a firm grip on their bridles as they neighed and shuffled in the traces of his own carriage.
    “Bilby, do not call me that, especially now that we’ll have company on this journey,” Nathan said sharply. “She thinks I’m the duke’s man of affairs, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
    Barking dogs and squawking geese scattered as the barouche barreled straight out of the inn yard, clipping an open cart loaded with barrels, causing it to tilt back and disgorge the barrels one by one.
    Miss Hathaway, meanwhile, lay crumpled on the ground near the stone wall. Nathan raced to reach her before one of the rolling barrels threatened to crush her.
    “Miss Hathaway!” With one booted foot, he kicked the approaching barrel away from her and crouched at her side. She was curled into a ball with her hands over her bonneted head. “Are you all right? I’m terribly sorry about this.”
    She slowly unfurled herself. She was splattered with mud, and her spectacles were askew, hanging at a precarious angle off the tip of her nose. Nathan was relieved to see no trace of red anywhere.
    “I think he shot my spectacles off,” she said, her voice trembling and reedy as she lifted herself to a kneeling position. “I think he shot out both of my eyes.”
    Nathan reached out to gingerly remove the spectacles from her face. “No, you still have your spectacles and both of your eyes, and they’re perfectly fine.”
    In fact, they were more than just fine. They were beautiful. He’d never seen eyes of such a color before, a green so pale they were almost silver, like the Scottish Highlands shrouded in mist. He wondered if they looked this way because she was covered in so much gray and if they would look any greener if she wore a different color—such as, oh, say—green.
    Surrounding those eyes were dark lashes tipped with a hint of gold, while two feathery brows the color of bronze curved over them. He felt a strange longing to pull off her bonnet to get a good look at the rest of her—well, at her hair, anyway.
    He rose to his feet and held out his hand to help her up. She still looked dazed and was gasping for breath, but she willingly took his hand and allowed herself to be hoisted back to her own feet.
    He straightened out the spectacles and wiped them off with his handkerchief before handing them back to her. Instead of taking them, to his bewilderment she only stared at him, as if studying his features as intently as he continued to study hers. He wouldn’t call her beautiful or even pretty, yet she had a very interesting face. Those entrancing eyes were set close together over a narrow nose