Page 104 of Lyon of Least Resistance

“What if they’re heading for Scotland?” James said. “Lincoln’s not far. They could pick up a mail coach at the White Hart there.”

“Oughtn’t we try Winley first, given that it’s closer?”

“And if they’re not there?” he cried. “A city is much easier to hide in than a smaller resort. If we divert to Winley but they’re going to Lincoln, by the time we get there, they’ll be beyond reach.”

“Then I’ll go to Winley and you to Lincoln,” Cordelia said.

“On your own?”

“Better that than risking losing Georgiana.”

He hesitated, concern in his eyes.

“I’ll be all right, James,” she said. “I can take care of myself.”

“Yes,” he said, nodding. “And everyone else.”

“Then let us make haste, lest we lose her,” Cordelia said. Before he could reply, she spurred her mount on and set off, taking the right fork.

As she rode, the sky ahead began to soften with light. Then a pink glow began to illuminate the tops of the trees, heralding the sunrise. Cordelia turned a corner and spotted a dark shape ahead on the side of the road. She drew near, and the shape took the form of a carriage. One back wheel had fallen off, and the carriage leaned at a steep angle, its door open. Three men stood beside the wheel, and Cordelia heard a sharp voice barking orders, and faint sobs coming from inside the carriage.

“Hello there!” she called.

The men glanced up. The sobbing continued and Cordelia caught a harsh voice.

“Desist your mewling, you foolish chit!”

“Georgiana!” Cordelia cried.

A face appeared at the carriage door, its features twisted with distress, and James’s sister tumbled out. Then a hand caught her arm and yanked her back.

“Stay where you are, m’dear.”

“Sir Iain!” Cordelia said. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Sir Iain’s head appeared, grinning. “If you need to ask that, m’dear, you’re not as good a whore as I thought.”

“Cordelia!” Georgiana cried from inside the carriage. I—Oh!” she let out a scream as Cordelia heard the sharp sound of a hand striking flesh.

She dismounted and approached the carriage, while the footmen stared.

“What are you doing?” she said.

“Obeying the master’s orders, miss.”

“It’s Lady,” Cordelia said. “Lady Bedford. And why the devil were you driving about with a broken wheel?”

“There weren’t time to get the wheelwright before Master Iain told us to leave,” the driver said. “It were his orders.”

“And you approve of being party to the abduction of a young woman?”

“Abduction—ha!” Sir Iain said, stepping out of the carriage. Cordelia suppressed a surge of nausea as she caught sight of the bulge in his breeches.

“Cordelia, I’m sorry, I—” Georgiana began.

“Silence, slut!”

“My sister-in-law is no slut, Sir Iain,” Cordelia said.