Page 31 of Tempting the Highland Spy
“That remains to be seen,” he said. “Follow my lead and play along with your instincts, and we’ll both come out of this alive.”
“It’s not like you to be dramatic,” Mrs. Carmichael chided. “You’ve no need to frighten her.”
“Miss Winters knows what we’re dealing with. She’s already encountered one of Raibert’s cronies. There’s no need to pretend.”
The carriage hit another rut, jostling Grace nearly off the seat. Beside her, Mrs. Carmichael muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like an epithet.
“I told you that man is a menace.” Mrs. Carmichael pinned Harrison with a glare.
“Would you rather come sit beside me?” he asked in a tone of utter nonchalance. “I promise to protect you from the horrors of a bumpy carriage ride.”
She waved him away with her lace-gloved hand. “You were an incorrigible lad. I see nothing has changed.”
Lad?Grace pondered the word. She’d picked up on the previous acquaintance between Harrison and the operative. Evidently, their relationship went back further than she might have guessed. How very odd.
Harrison’s grin widened. “I spoke only as a man of honor. I’ll have you know I consider it my duty to watch over the fairer sex.”
“You won’t be needing to watch over me,” the matron said, tapping the handle of her umbrella with one finger. Was it Grace’s imagination, or was there a hint of amusement in her eyes?
“I’ll make a note of—”
The carriage bounced over another rut—actually, crater seemed a more apt term—and Grace bounced up. Before she could plop back onto the bench, another massive bump jolted her. Her fanny no longer touched the seat.
Oh, dear.
She struggled to hold her balance. The carriage wobbled again, and she pitched forward.
Directly into the waiting arms of Harrison MacMasters.
With well-honed reflexes, he eased her descent as she landed in an awkward pile of wool skirt and petticoats, not quite on his lap.
His large hands caught her waist, his touch firm, yet gentle. Warmth seeped through the fabric of her jacket, permeating her skin, awakening her body’s response to him. Awareness coursed through her, startling as the unexpected bump in the road.
He flashed a wicked grin. “I must say, Miss Winters, this is an unexpected pleasure.”
Was that humor she saw in his eyes? Or was there something more? Had he been caught off guard by the power of the innocent contact, just as she had?
She let out a low breath, searching for both words that might fit the occasion and the will to pull away from him.
Thwack!
“Ow!” he exclaimed.
“That’s quite enough,” Mrs. Carmichael said, prim as a schoolmarm as she brandished a folded fan in her right hand.
Harrison peeled his fingers from Grace’s middle. With a hand upon her wrist, he helped her to her seat beside Mrs. Carmichael.
With a glower, he stared down at the fan Mrs. Carmichael had used to smack his forearm. “Would you have preferred I let her sprawl on the ground?
“Assisting a lady is one thing. Capitalizing on the opportunity is quite another.” Mrs. Carmichael splayed open the accessory and began to slowly fan herself. “I must say I’m surprised. And here I’d believed you to be less of a skirt-chaser than your brothers.”
He rubbed the site of impact. “I never imagined a bit of lace could sting like that.”
Mrs. Carmichael held up the fan. In the light, Grace could see bits of metal sewn into the lace. “Just a few things I added to give it a wee bit of weight. It’s an effective distraction.”
“Bearings and buckshot, eh?” Harrison crooked a brow. He kneaded his arm again. “I should count myself lucky you didn’t come at me full force with that thing.”
“Indeed. I merely tapped you with it. If I’d wanted to, I could have left you unconscious.”
