Page 7 of The Beastly Duke's Christmas Bride
“Ah.” The driver stumbled back against his carriage. There was a dark stain spreading by his forehead. He must have been hit as well. “My er, apologies. What of the lady?”
Sebastian glared. “I’ll save her.”
“Very good,” the man said dimly.
Already Sebastian was on the move. His first couple of steps were shaky and uncertain. But he’d had harder hits before. He would survive this one. He could keep moving. And so he picked up his feet, watching his steps, and hastened on in search of the lady.
While he fully expected to find her at the next turn, having given up and most likely crying her heart out over a lost ribbon, he didn’t find anyone there.
Sebastian grumbled under his breath. But he could move in a straight line again and kept moving. His breathing evened while his heartbeat picked up, searching for one or two figures racing through the dark.
The lantern light helped. He never cared for them, preferring the darkness and using his instinct, but now they were what saved them all.
He started past one lane only to spot yellow fabric waving.
He slid to a stop, seeing the lady disappear around the next corner. While he thought of calling to her, he didn’t know what to call her. So Sebastian gritted his teeth in annoyance and turned down the lane.
How is she still running? I thought ladies fainted if they danced too much.
Down the lane Sebastian went, and turned to where he had seen the lady go. That was down another lane. A large row of houses all with low-designed gates. He let out a heavy breath––it fogged up before him––and carried on as he saw the lady at last.
She had reached the thief.
What the devil is she doing?
“Please let go!” He could finally make her calling out. “Give it to me! Let go!”
There was a loud yelp, a short cry, and then the lady turned around. She started running again, this time toward Sebastian. He stumbled to a stop and waited for her, arms up.
Behind her the thief took two steps forward. When he noticed Sebastian, however, he scowled and took off in the other direction.
Gone. The thieves were gone.
He caught his breath just as the lady arrived, staggering clumsily to a stop just before him. She was struggling for breath so much, however, her chest rising and falling, it almost looked theatric. She stumbled down to her knees in the snow before he could reach her.
“My lady?” He asked, bending a knee. “Are you well?”
“Don’t touch it,” she snapped in a choking breath. Clutched in her hands was the reticule. She wasn’t wearing gloves though it almost looked that way for how white her skin was. Blue, too, just tinged, in this weather.
What sort of lady doesn’t wear gloves? Is she mad?
Sebastian thought through his options. A gentleman was supposed to live by rules. A duke, too, at that. And a lady would have her own rules.
But what sort of rules could exist when they got in the way of people’s safety and health? This lady was about to freeze or faint. He didn’t particularly care to see either of them. Why she was alone on an evening like this, he couldn’t fathom. Perhaps she was married. Otherwise, there should have been a chaperoneto assist her. Hoping the chaperone had not wound up lost in Covent Garden somehow, Sebastian stepped forward.
“I’ll get you home,” he vowed. “But I’ll have to touch you.”
Her breath staggered but she couldn’t seem to fight out anymore words. Still fighting for air in her lungs, she could do nothing as he helped her to her feet. He tucked an arm around her waist and put her arm around his neck. It was too easy, he feared, when he noted just how slight she was. The lady had bird bones surely, all hollow and light.
“Oh no,” she moaned suddenly when he was about to make her take a step.
“What is it?” he asked just as he heard the sound.
A carriage. He noted the way she stiffened with dread, the thought of someone seeing them. Twisting about, he saw she could stand on her own two feet. He freed one arm and watched as the carriage rolled closer. They couldn’t do anything about it. What were the rules again? If he could perhaps make it look less like he was carrying her––
“What is that?” she cried suddenly.
He looked down and felt a stinging sensation as she reached out to touch his arm. No, not his arm. A handle. A handle of something that was stuck in his arm. Confused, he replayed the fight and recalled the man he had grabbed off of her earlier.
