Free Captive Bride by Carol Finch Page A

him all the love she had to give, the love she had kept bottled up inside her all these years. Until that day came she was not going to experiment with passion—and especially not with Dominic. She wanted no part of him. She'd had enough trouble keeping his straying hands corraled in front of her grandmother. She couldn't even imagine what he might do while they were alone. . . .
      Rozalyn squeezed her eyes shut, squelching the traitorous sensations that spilled through her when Dominic's handsome visage arose in the darkness. Only an arrogant fool would discount his charm and persuasiveness, she cautioned herself. She could not give an inch. She would have to stay one step ahead of him or she might . . .
      Don't think about that, Rozalyn chided herself. You have enough to fret over. Clinging to positive, determined thoughts, Rozalyn eased back into the carriage seat, mentally plotting her moves. When she appeared on center stage to face the charismatic but dangerous Dominic Baudelair, she would be well prepared.

Chapter 5
     
     
      Rozalyn was jolted from her contemplative deliberations when the brougham in which she was riding came to a screeching halt. As the sound of muffled voices came through the open window, she poked her head out to see the groom holding his hands high above his head while three men aimed their pistols at his chest.
      A robbery, Rozalyn thought disgustedly. She was anxious to confront Dominic and to begin her performance. Indeed, she had spent the past few minutes rehearsing her soliloquy. She did not need her train of thought derailed.
      Hastily, Rozalyn flung open the door and hopped to the ground, only to hear the groom's shocked gasp.
      " Mademoiselle ! Stay inside!" Mosley instructed her as he nobly positioned himself in front of his assailants to protect this lovely maid from harm.
      Rozalyn disregarded the groom's instructions. Boldly, she marched up to one of the masked men who looked more than a little familiar. Harvey Duncan's plump physique and short stature gave him away.
      An impish smile pursed her lips as she fished into her purse and then tucked several coins into Harvey's vest pocket. "You truly should find a more respectable occupation, monsieur ," she chastised in a tone laced more with amusement than irritation.
      "Rozalyn!" Harvey gasped when he recognized the lady's soft, throaty voice. "What the devil are you doin' in this coach? It ain't yers. You know we never would have stopped it if it was."
      The groom's jaw sagged on its hinges as he listened to this attractive young lass converse with the thief who had ordered his men to surround the carriage and who, until a moment ago, had held his pistol to Mosley's chest.
      "The gentleman with whom I plan to share the evening sent his groom and brougham for me," Rozalyn explained before wheeling around to climb into the carriage. "Now, if you good men will excuse us, we have an appointment to keep." Before she could reach for the door latch, Harvey was beside her, graciously offering his assistance. " Merci , monsieur . You are too kind."
      Mosley half-collapsed in relief when the circle of thieves retired their weapons and flocked to the carriage for one last glimpse of the lady before she disappeared into it. Sweet Jesus! This was the strangest robbery attempt Mosley had ever seen. He stared at Rozalyn's departing back, his weather-beaten features skewed in astonishment.
      "Coming to yer assistance is always my pleasure, mam'selfe," Harvey chuckled. After tucking his pistol in the band of his breeches, he wrapped his stubby fingers around Rozalyn's arm to lift her into the brougham. "We're havin' the usual game at Sadie's Tavern tomorrow night," he whispered confidentially. "You ain't gonna miss it, are you?"
      As Rozalyn sank back onto the seat and primly tucked her full skirts around her legs, a mischievous smile skittered across her lips. "Me? At the gaming tables? Really, monsieur , I think you