shrugged at her silence, as if proving his point.
It took her a moment to gain the courage she sought. “What if I did?”
Camden’s rough exhale was interrupted by a tap on the window.
Sophia jumped. She hadn’t realized Camden never had a chance to give the coachman the order to depart. They were still sitting outside Mrs. Ovard’s house. That would give her something to gossip about.
“If you are ready, sir?”
Camden nodded, raking his hand through his hair. “Indeed. We will return Lady Harding to her house.”
“Very good, sir.” The coach swayed as the groom climbed back on his perch.
The coach lurched into motion and rattled along the rough street. Sophia turned her face and watched as the village passed, trying to make sense of her churning emotions. Only one thing was clear: she wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to do more than kiss him again.
Suddenly a horse screamed. The coach lurched, jolting along the cobbles with teeth-jarring speed.
Bracing his hands against the wall of the coach, Camden strained to look out the window. “The coachman’s still on the box.”
They heard shouts and warnings as the man tried to bring the vehicle back under control and the outriders followed behind.
Sophia gasped as the coach wove hard to the right, slamming her shoulder into the lacquered paneling. Camden braced his long legs on opposite sides of the coach, then wrapped his arms around her, keeping her tight against his body as the coach swayed again. Villagers outside screamed and cursed.
Sophia dug her fingers into Camden’s lapels, praying everyone would clear the path. Strangely, her worry wasn’t for herself. She felt uniquely safe in his arms. Even when Richard had still been charming, she’d always felt unbalanced around him. Yet in a coach hurtling toward destruction, she knew Camden would keep her protected.
The coachman’s commands softened to soothing nonsense as the jolting slowed to a rough sway, then stopped completely.
Camden was out of the coach the moment it stopped. “What the devil happened?”
“Someone threw a rock at the horses, sir,” the coachman said, his voice shallow and winded.
Sophia stood on shaky legs and went to the door of the coach. Camden assisted her down, his hand remaining on her waist afterward.
“Did you see who it was?” Camden asked.
The coachman shook his head, calming one of the horses whose nostrils still flared. “Didn’t see a thing. We were passing by the market and tavern. Hit the horse square in the flank.”
Camden’s hand tightened at her waist, which seemed to surprise him because he then flinched away.
The abashed grooms had nothing useful to add. The market had been filled with the usual villagers, but they hadn’t seen anyone actually throw the rock.
Finally, Camden shook his head and helped her back into the coach. He settled across from her. “What changed in the past week? Why is someone attacking you now?”
She tried to think. “You started to investigate again. You thought I was a murderer. Perhaps someone agreed with you?”
Camden’s face stilled. “Bloody hell, who?”
But she could think of very few people who cared enough about Richard to avenge him. Whenever they’d gone to an event, he’d always arranged to be in the center of everything. His looks and money guaranteed that. But very few people had come to the funeral.
“I don’t know.” She wished if a woman had cared about Richard that much, she would have stolen him away.
No, Sophia wouldn’t have wished Richard on anyone.
“You won’t be safe until we do.”
C HAPTER F IFTEEN
C amden went over the orders with Sophia’s butler one final time while she changed into a fresh gown and replaced her missing shoes. He’d arranged the footmen and grooms into patrols so there was always someone watching her house. He’d tried to convince her to stay with him until they’d identified her attacker, but she’d refused despite his perfectly
It took her a moment to gain the courage she sought. “What if I did?”
Camden’s rough exhale was interrupted by a tap on the window.
Sophia jumped. She hadn’t realized Camden never had a chance to give the coachman the order to depart. They were still sitting outside Mrs. Ovard’s house. That would give her something to gossip about.
“If you are ready, sir?”
Camden nodded, raking his hand through his hair. “Indeed. We will return Lady Harding to her house.”
“Very good, sir.” The coach swayed as the groom climbed back on his perch.
The coach lurched into motion and rattled along the rough street. Sophia turned her face and watched as the village passed, trying to make sense of her churning emotions. Only one thing was clear: she wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to do more than kiss him again.
Suddenly a horse screamed. The coach lurched, jolting along the cobbles with teeth-jarring speed.
Bracing his hands against the wall of the coach, Camden strained to look out the window. “The coachman’s still on the box.”
They heard shouts and warnings as the man tried to bring the vehicle back under control and the outriders followed behind.
Sophia gasped as the coach wove hard to the right, slamming her shoulder into the lacquered paneling. Camden braced his long legs on opposite sides of the coach, then wrapped his arms around her, keeping her tight against his body as the coach swayed again. Villagers outside screamed and cursed.
Sophia dug her fingers into Camden’s lapels, praying everyone would clear the path. Strangely, her worry wasn’t for herself. She felt uniquely safe in his arms. Even when Richard had still been charming, she’d always felt unbalanced around him. Yet in a coach hurtling toward destruction, she knew Camden would keep her protected.
The coachman’s commands softened to soothing nonsense as the jolting slowed to a rough sway, then stopped completely.
Camden was out of the coach the moment it stopped. “What the devil happened?”
“Someone threw a rock at the horses, sir,” the coachman said, his voice shallow and winded.
Sophia stood on shaky legs and went to the door of the coach. Camden assisted her down, his hand remaining on her waist afterward.
“Did you see who it was?” Camden asked.
The coachman shook his head, calming one of the horses whose nostrils still flared. “Didn’t see a thing. We were passing by the market and tavern. Hit the horse square in the flank.”
Camden’s hand tightened at her waist, which seemed to surprise him because he then flinched away.
The abashed grooms had nothing useful to add. The market had been filled with the usual villagers, but they hadn’t seen anyone actually throw the rock.
Finally, Camden shook his head and helped her back into the coach. He settled across from her. “What changed in the past week? Why is someone attacking you now?”
She tried to think. “You started to investigate again. You thought I was a murderer. Perhaps someone agreed with you?”
Camden’s face stilled. “Bloody hell, who?”
But she could think of very few people who cared enough about Richard to avenge him. Whenever they’d gone to an event, he’d always arranged to be in the center of everything. His looks and money guaranteed that. But very few people had come to the funeral.
“I don’t know.” She wished if a woman had cared about Richard that much, she would have stolen him away.
No, Sophia wouldn’t have wished Richard on anyone.
“You won’t be safe until we do.”
C HAPTER F IFTEEN
C amden went over the orders with Sophia’s butler one final time while she changed into a fresh gown and replaced her missing shoes. He’d arranged the footmen and grooms into patrols so there was always someone watching her house. He’d tried to convince her to stay with him until they’d identified her attacker, but she’d refused despite his perfectly
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