Page 2 of One Wicked Kiss
The coachman picked up a whip and hit the horses encouraging them to go faster. Had he lost his mind? At least he was alert… If the horses went faster though he could lose control and they might crash. She had to find a way to brace herself for a possible impact. The way the snow was falling it was almost a certainty. “Sir,” she screamed—her heart raced inside her chest. Natalia gripped the side of the window praying she’d survive this doomed journey. “Slow down…” Her throat was hoarse from screaming against the furious wind.
The horses raced on with encouragement from the coachman. A lump formed in her throat that she couldn’t clear away. Snow flew through the wind and more came through the window stinging her cheeks. The carriage swayed again and weaved along the road. The bright blue sky of earlier in the day had darkened as the storm raged on.
A crack echoed on the wind and her heart skipped a beat. Natalia grabbed the side of the carriage and held on as the coach tumbled forward and then rolled to its side sliding toward the side of the road. She lost her grip and fell backward hitting the other side with a hard thud. Her head banged against the side and pain ricocheted through her. She no longer felt the cold, agony became her new constant. Snow fell around her through the open window and soon covered her face leaving her fully soaked. Somehow she’d have to climb out of the coach and find her way to a nearby town. She needed warmth, shelter, and out of her drenched clothing.
If she didn’t do everything she could to move she’d die in this coach and her escape from her father will have been for naught. She’d die on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. No one would find her—at least not until it was too late. It was up to her to save herself. Something she had grown accustomed to over the years. Natalia didn’t want to die… The ache in her head started to pound harder and soon she could no longer fight it. Her eyes rolled backward as she fought to remain conscious, and lost.
Chapter 2
The storm outside of the carriage had taken on a life of its own. Lucas, the Earl of Darcy, stared at the snow falling out the window of the carriage almost flabbergasted by its presence. He hadn’t really considered the possibility of a blizzard when he’d agreed to accompany his friend, Edward Kendall, the Duke of Weston to his home in Dover. He should have—it was winter after all and the probability of snow high, but he’d been bored. So he’d said yes, and now he was growing to regret that decision.
“It’s falling at an alarming rate,” Lucas announced not expecting much of an remark from his two traveling companions. “We might not make it to Weston Manor today.”
Edward waved his hand dismissively. “We’ll be fine. When we reach Canterbury we’ll find an inn and stay for the night.”
His friend was being too optimistic. It was Christmastide. There were probably many travelers heading home for the next fortnight to celebrate with their families. He certainly should have gone home. His sister, Helena, would be disappointed he’d left her alone with their wretched father, and disinterested mother. Lucas would make it up to her later. She’d forgive him; Helena always did.
“It doesn’t seem too dreadful,” Callista, the Countess of Marin said as she glanced out the window to her left. “A little snow never hurt anyone.”
The countess was Edward’s latest paramour. The duke believed himself in love with the young widow, and he certainly might be. Lucas wouldn’t presume to know the inner workings of his friend’s heart. Maybe he was in love, but his feelings probably ran more toward lust. Love wasn’t something those in his circles experienced much. Lucas certainly had no idea what the more sentimental side of romance could be. He’d never been in love or even imagined he might be before. Somehow he doubted he’d ever have any tender feelings toward a woman. His own parent’s marriage hadn’t left much of an impression on him. If he ever married it would most likely be similar in nature—lacking love and resembling something akin to an arrangement. Love had no place in a ton marriage.
Lady Marin was lovely though. Her French ancestry gave her lovely dark hair and light green eyes. Her cheek bones were high and pronounced and she had pretty pink lips that were probably delectable to kiss. Edward would probably murder Lucas if he could discern the direction of his thoughts. If Lady Marin believed the blizzard un-noteworthy perhaps she didn’t have the intelligence Lucas previously believed. “Snow can be quite deadly if not taken seriously,” Lucas replied. “There have been plenty of carriage accidents on icy roads. I’d hate for us to be one of those unlucky calamities.”
Edward kissed Lady Marin’s cheek. “Don’t listen to him darling. He’s in a dark mood and has been since we departed.”
Lucas scowled at Edward. His condescending friend was right. His father had put him into a fowl temper before he’d agreed to travel with Edward to his family home instead of making the trek to Montford Castle. His father was a controlling bastard and had tugged on the purse strings—again. Lucas was the heir apparent, the only heir. His mother had failed in her duty to provide a spare. Helena had been meant for that role if she’d been born male. For that alone his father hated her more than he disliked Lucas. The Duke of Montford didn’t have a paternal bone in his body. His children were a means to an end nothing more. So when the summons had come demanding his attendance at the family home for Christmastide, Lucas had gladly turned his back on it and followed Weston to his ducal carriage instead. Weston Manor would be far more entertaining than his own home. “Bad weather is not something to be dismissed.” There was something on the side of the road. He squinted hard and then he realized what was lying there. There was another carriage overturned. He rapped the top of the carriage to get the driver’s attention and it came to a stop.
“What is it?” Lady Marin asked. “Why are we stopping?”
Lucas ignored her and hopped out. Edward’s reply followed after him. “I’ll see what has him in a tizzy. Stay here darling.”
The driver of the other carriage didn’t look—right. Lucas checked him first and found him dead. Poor bastard had broken his neck and probably died immediately. Groans echoed from inside the carriage. That was good. It mean that someone was still alive inside and he’d have the chance to help save them.
“Darcy,” Edward called to Lucas. “What are you up to? The driver doesn’t appear to be—alive.” Luca disregarded his words. Edward was a good chap even if he was a bit self-absorbed. “Pray tell… You’re not climbing on top that carriage are you?”
Lucas went on the side of the carriage and flung open the door. It had tipped onto its side when it careened off of the road. Below him a female lay crumpled and barely moving. She had hair a similar shade as Lady Marin’s and her face had lost all color. She almost appeared as white as the snow that had started to cover her entire body. Any longer and she might have been buried underneath of it.
“Weston I’m going to need your help. Climb up here so I can go inside.”
“Have you lost your bloody mind?” the duke asked. “Shouldn’t we continue on to Canterbury and find shelter?”
“We will after we help the young miss trapped inside the carriage. Have a heart.” Lucas would make him help damn it. How could Edward be so egotistic and uncaring? Wouldn’t he want someone to aid him in return if he found himself in a similar situation?
The duke grumbled but finally did as he had asked. Lucas slid into the carriage as carefully as he could. He didn’t want to accidentally land on top of the young lady and perhaps injure her further. When he reached her he checked for injuries. She had a gash on her forehead. The bleeding had stopped and dried along her hairline. Her eyelids fluttered open and light green eyes greeted him under the little bit of light the moon provided. It was barely light enough outside for him to get a decent look at her features. He would have to work fast to extricate her from the carriage and ensconce her safely in the ducal carriage.
“Who are you?” she asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper and the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. “Where am I?”
“I’m Lucas,” he replied. He probably should have introduced himself as Lord Darcy, but he wanted something more personal with her. Lucas couldn’t explain it… The girl was lovely and innocent—she seemed special. “What is your name?” She opened her mouth as if in hesitation. Her eyelids fluttered a few times. She might be fighting consciousness. A soft moan filled the air as she tried to move. “Shh,” he said. “I’m here to help you.”
“What’s taking so long?” Edward hissed. “It’s bloody cold out here. Get the girl out so we can find shelter.”
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” the girl said. She might be a little disoriented. “Why does my head hurt so much?”
“You’ve been in an accident. We’re going to help you,” he said as soothingly as possible. He didn’t want to worry the girl if he could help it. “I’m going to lift you up to my friend. Is that all right?”
“Yes,” she replied and then shivered uncontrollably. “I’m so cold.”
Her skin was frigid to the touch. He would have to grab one of the carriage blankets from under the seat and drape it around her. Every inch of her clothing seemed to be soaked through. The sooner they reached Canterbury the better off they all would be. The girl would catch a sickness of some sort if they didn’t warm her soon.
