Free Her Reluctant Viscount (Rakes and Rogues) by Aliyah Burke Page B

She closed the door before he could say another word. Her confidence did not last the short walk back to the seat. She had held the lines for a team of four but never actually went anywhere. Surely, God would forgive her lie. All she knew was the man back there could not do it. Her choices were sitting here in the storm and hope someone safe stopped first. On the other hand, do it herself. She had always been more of a do it herself type of girl.
     
    She wiped a hand across her face after climbing back up. The top over the seat did not stop the sidelining wind and rain from keeping her in a drenched state. With shaking hands—her gloves were not much help either against the elements—she lifted the lines, released the brake, and snapped them.
     
    The quartet lunged into their harness, obviously eager to be on their way as well, almost ripping the leathers from her fingers. She tightened her grip and leaned back using her body weight to help keep them under control. The storm had them on edge and they fought her for the bit.
     
    Time passed, her eyes stung and muscles burned with the strain. She had hauled them to a halt and stripped off her gloves for a better grip. She knew the next stop would be the last. Assuming I can make it.
     
    The rain continued to fall when she brought them into the small village of Halestead Moor. She could barely see her eyes were so strained but she drew up on the team in front of the first inn she saw. Her legs wobbled as she jumped down and she took a few extra seconds to ensure they would not collapse beneath her.
     
    By the time, she reached the first horse a young lad came around the corner. His eyes grew wide and she said, “I need a doctor.” He hesitated and she drew herself up, stared down her nose, and spoke with as much hauteur as possible. “Now boy. Fetch him.”
     
    Her tone must have done it despite her wet and ragged appearance. When he dashed off, she dragged her exhausted body back to the coach and opened the door. Mr. Pillster lay partially curled on the floor covered by the blankets, his thinner older body shivering.
     
    “What goes on here?” a deep voice questioned from behind her.
     
    Things exploded into a flurry of activity after she explained. An older woman came up to her and placed a blanket about her shoulders.
     
    “Come on, lass. You need to get cleaned up and warm.”
     
    Exhaustion had almost set upon her full force. “Do you know Mr. Callum Blackwood?”
     
    “Mr. Blackwood? Yes, he lives just past the village.”
     
    “Is there anyone who could take me there? Or rent me a horse?”
     
    “Perhaps you should clean up first.” It was almost a suggestion.
     
    “No thank you. I will walk if you do not know of anyone.” She reached for her valise.
     
    “I will arrange for a ride.” The woman walked off shaking her head.
     
    Jo had to lock her legs to keep upright. She could barely keep her eyes open but she refused to relax until she had seen the one person Clara said she knew. More than that though, he was the one Clara trusted.
     
    Soon she bounced on the seat of a wagon loaded with covered hay. The old man continually stared at her and she kept her gaze firmly ahead, well aware of the raggedy appearance she had. The wagon squeaked to a stop at the top of an apex before which a large house sat. Bag in hand, she walked up to the door as the wagon continued. The man did not even stay to see if anyone was home.
     
    She took a deep breath, wondering if she would not have been better off cleaning up first. A brisk knock made it a moot point. She ran her hand down her hair and winced at the feel.
     
    The large door opened and a man dressed entirely in black stared at her. “Yes?”
     
    “I need to see Mr. Blackwood.”
     
    A derisive sniff. “He is not receiving,” pale eyes ran over her haggard appearance, “ visitors today.”
     
    The amount of cold disdain made her feel she was once again in the middle of a Society function.