Free The Earl's Daughter by Cassie Lyons Page B

black eyebrows. His coat had been removed and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing muscular forearms. Peter Hughes looked a bit dangerous, but in a way that was not wholly unappealing. Even the streak of mud on his cheek was strangely appealing.
    Sighing, Sylvie let the curtain fall. Her strange thoughts had her shaking her head with disbelief. She had no business thinking about the carriage driver in such a way. It was inappropriate and outlandish—not to mention, inaccurate. He wasn't so handsome, certainly not as much as her Robert. And she did not care for the slight beard on Peter Hughes' rugged face.
    “Lady Sylvie?”
    When she heard him call her name, her breath was momentarily caught in her throat. He must have seen her lower the curtain.
    “My lady? Are you awake?” Peter opened the carriage door and peered inside. When he caught her gaze, he was frowning.
    “Indeed I am.” Sylvie sat up straight in her seat and folded her hands across her lap. “How long was I asleep?”
    “Two hours.”
    “Two hours?” She sounded a bit startled by his answer. “And where are we, Hughes? We appear to be in the middle of nowhere.”
    “We appear to be in the middle of nowhere because we are in the middle of nowhere,” he replied. “The carriage is stuck.”
    “Oh.” Sylvie's lower lip quivered at the thought of it. “ Very stuck?”
    “More stuck than I'd like to be, my lady. At the moment, we're mired in the mud.” When Peter wiped his hands on the sides of his shirt, his fingers left faint trails of mud. “I've been trying to free us for several minutes now.”
    “Oh dear. That is a very unfavorable turn of events. Can we find someone to help us?”
    “As we already discussed, we are in the middle of nowhere. I am afraid there is little help to be found. But I haven't given up.”
    “Will you help me down from the carriage, Hughes?” Sylvie extended her hand, but when she saw him reach for her with mud on his fingernails, she quickly retracted it. “On second thought, I am sure I am quite capable of alighting from the carriage on my own.”
    With a permanent sneer on her nose, Sylvie climbed down and followed Peter to the front of the carriage, where one of the carriage's wheels had sunken into the mud. The soggy earth was quite cumbersome to slog through; Sylvie nearly lost a slipper to the mud as well.
    “I was trying to dig us out with a stick,” Peter explained, “but I was getting nowhere... so I tried to push the carriage, but it won't budge.”
    “Oh. That's... very bad,” Sylvie said with a frown.
    “Of course, I've not given up the fight. I'll get us freed, one way or another. What do you think, my lady? Should I try to dig or push?”
    “I'm not sure I have a suggestion, Hughes.”
    “Very well. I'll try to push.” Peter returned to the back of the carriage, leaned his shoulder against it, and attempted to push the mired equipage with all the strength he could muster.
    “Can the horse not pull the carriage out of the mud?” Sylvie suggested hopefully.
    “No.” He grunted softly as he gave the carriage another shove.
    “Is there anything I can do to assist you?” Sylvie asked. “I could help you push.”
    “No!” Peter's reply was more adamant this time.
“Very well. I can see you have no use for me.” Sylvie crossed her arms and watched him strain and struggle. She felt a bit guilty for being so useless, but it wasn't as if she did not offer to help him. “Do you mind if I talk to you while you work?”
    Peter stopped pushing and swiped a hand across his sweat-laden forehead. “If you must.”
    “I think, perhaps, I need someone to talk to. I feel so burdened by my thoughts.”
    Peter donned a pair of gloves and proceeded to push the carriage again. “As it happens, I know a thing or two about being burdened.”
    At the moment, she was his burden, but the earl's daughter failed to grasp that fact.
    “I am in love with a man named Robert, who has been courting me for some