Free Courtesan's Kiss by Mary Blayney

the conveyance to see to John Coachman’s injury, which left no one but Miss Castellano to take charge of the horses.
    He urged Cruces to a spot opposite the window.
    “You do not have to rescue me. Go see how thecoachman is; I can climb up and slow the horses.” She shouted her suggestions and did not seem at all afraid.
    The horses picked up their pace and Miss Castellano fell back into her seat. If he did not act quickly the team would soon be out of control.
    “Stay right there!” he shouted to her, and could not think of another woman who would need to be told that.
    David thought first to ride to the lead horse and grab the bridle, but they were already moving too fast for that, so he urged his horse parallel to the coachman’s box and made a grab for the edge. He missed on the first try and lost ground as the team sensed a race and pulled ahead.
    Now the carriage picked up speed, too fast for him to effect a rescue of its passenger. He would have one more chance to jump into the driver’s box before the conveyance moved beyond his reach. The consequences of that would be disastrous.
    “I can jump safely,” Miss Castellano yelled from her seat. “I’ve done it before.”
    I’ve done it before
. Of course she had. No matter how many times she had jumped from a moving carriage, her guardian would hardly thank him if he let Miss Castellano demonstrate that skill now.
    “But my trunks. Please, I need my clothes. Try just one more time.”
    Oh yes, he would be delighted to risk his life for her gowns and jewelry. The carriage rocketed over a rough patch of road and even the redoubtable Mia Castellano let out a very small shriek. At least she realized how fast thecarriage moved, that she could not jump without some injury. He could banish the thought of holding her unconscious body, bones broken as surely as her hat had been yesterday.
    Desperation made an excellent companion, bolstering his energy as it did. This time David waited until the conveyance swayed toward him. He kicked free of his stirrups and pulled himself up into the box though he could feel his shoulders protest the effort.
Thank God a hundred times ten!
    The coach swerved to the right toward an embankment that led to a lake, and he had a horrible picture of his passenger tumbling over and over like dice in a cup as the conveyance slid and spun into the water.
    The horses slowed a little, either because his horse no longer raced alongside or because they felt the weight in the box and knew the coachman had returned. Their less panicked gait would make it easier for him to reach for the reins that were trailing in the dirt between the last horse and the box.
    He needed something with a hook and searched through the items that littered the driving box. A rain cape, a pistol wrapped in linen, a bottle of water, or maybe gin, and a few coins. Nothing with the appendage he needed.
    David considered jumping onto a horse’s back, but that was more of a challenge than lowering himself between the vehicle and the horses to reach for the reins.
    If anything went wrong it would be deadly, and notjust for him, so he would have to convince the Fates that nothing would.
    As he took off his coat he heard Miss Castellano’s voice. “Take this!” He turned around to find the curved end of an umbrella stuck from the open window. God bless a woman who could think at such a time, any time. Beauty and brains rarely came in the same package.
    He took the umbrella. The handle gave him the extra reach he needed and on the third try, with no more insult than a face full of dirt and some doubly strained muscles, David caught the loop at the end of the reins, drew them up, and took control of the team. He slowed the overheated horses gradually. They finally stopped in the shade of some trees much too close to a part of the road filled with a lethal run of ruts and rocks.
    It felt as though the curtain had dropped on the play before the last act. The air was charged with