Andrew opened the carriage door and gestured for him to hurry. They rushed him to a donkey cart. He got in and they threw a blanket over his body. Sandwiched between piles of old cabbage, he hardly noticed the stale air under his blanket, his mind and heart alight with thoughts of Lady Cavendish.

Andrew called, “Sorry about the bumpy ride you are about to have. Don’t say a word, and stay covered.”

Matteo jerked his head up. “And what of Lady Cavendish? Who is caring for her?”

Andrew eyed him for a moment before responding. “We are. She will arrive safely.”

Matteo nodded and pulled the blanket back over his head, lying on his side in a ball on the floor of a cabbage cart. He had never felt more alive or free. Gone was the ever-present overbearing thought that he survived under the thumb and goodwill of Éléonore. He felt exhilarated and empowered. Perhaps Lady Cavendish was correct: perhaps he would be of better use in England.

Chapter Four

The carriage felt empty, bereft, as soon as Comte Durand exited. He carried all his confidence and fire and courage out the door, and Scarlet immediately missed him. She had leaned on his strength in their charade, more than she had with others.

And that kiss. She leaned back against her carriage bench, slumping in her seat. She blushed thinking about it. He’d made it desperately difficult to concentrate. Everything about him exuded masculine charm. She felt a new vulnerability, responsive to his excellent cut and the tightness across the breadth of the shoulders and chest of his well-fitting jacket. His dark hair, thick and wavy, had fought to fall across his forehead. Chocolate-brown eyes had searched hers with an intensity she had not felt in a long time.

Her response to him was no charade. And his lips had not been merely acting their part, either, she hoped. A hint of insecurity niggled at her. Surely Comte Durand was not toying with her; he could not possibly have deepened their kiss in such a way, not at the west barricade in Paris while their lives were in danger. No. He had likely been as affected as she.

And he had asked to call on her. How lovely and innocent. She hadn’t felt the luxury of such a simple enjoyment in many months. She smiled, and the carriage took off at the same breakneck speed as before.

The driver opened up a hatch from above, and Simon peered down at her. “Dreaming of your new man?” He winked and raised his eyebrows as the carriage swayed and bumped along, moving ever faster.

She opened her mouth in exasperation. “Is that really what you want to ask me at this moment?”

He laughed, the noise lost to the wind outside, but she saw his face and imagined the sound. When Simon laughed, everyone joined him, so infectious was the sound.