“That will be fine,” he murmured, giving the damaged curricle a closer look.

“Is something amiss, my lord? Other than the fact that we drove through a rut and overturned?”

“Look at this, Eleanor.” He reached out and touched the damaged wheel. “It's no longer attached to the carriage.”

“I imagine that is from the accident.”

Charles tapped his fingers against the side of the curricle as he thought. “No, it should still be attached. Broken, from when we overturned, but attached right here at the centerpoint.”

“Do you think that wheel came off of its own volition?”

“Yes,” he said thoughtfully. “Yes, I do.”

“But I know we hit that deep rut. I saw it. I felt it.”

“The rut was most likely the catalyst for the removal of an already loose wheel.”

Ellie leaned down and inspected the damage. “I think you're right, my lord. Look at the manner in which it is damaged. The spokes have been crushed by the weight of the curricle, but the body of the wheel is in one piece. I have studied very little physics, but I should think it would have snapped in two when we overturned. And—Oh! Look!” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the metal bolt.

“Where did you find this?”

“On the road. Just over the hill. It must have come loose and fallen off the wheel.”

Charles turned to face her, his sudden movement bringing them nose to nose. “I think,” he said softly, “you are correct.”

Ellie's lips parted in surprise. He was so close that his breath touched her face, so close that she could feel his words as well as hear them.

“I might have to kiss you again.”

She tried to make a sound that would convey—well, she didn't know what exactly she wanted to convey, but it made no difference anyway, as her vocal cords refused to make a single noise. She just sat there, utterly still, as he slowly tilted his head to the side and rested his lips upon hers.

“Very nice,” he murmured, his words entering her mouth.

“My lord…”

“Charles,” he corrected.

“We really…that is to say…” She completely lost track of her thoughts at that point. Having the inside of her lower lip caressed by a man's tongue did that to her.

Charles chuckled and lifted his head a mere inch. “You were saying?”

Ellie did nothing but blink.

“Then I may assume you merely wanted to ask me to continue.” His smile turned wolfish before he tipped up her chin and traced the line of her jaw with his lips.

“No!” Ellie burst out, suddenly jolted by a mortified sense of urgency. “That isn't what I meant at all.”

“It isn't?” he teased.

“I meant to say that we are in the middle of a public road, and—”

“And you fear for your reputation,” he finished for her.

“And yours as well, so you needn't make me out to be a prude.”

“Oh, I have no intention of doing that, sweetheart.”