Page 2 of Outrageous

“We’re going,” he said to the figure sitting on the back-facing bench. “I won’t—”

Something hard slammed into the back of his head. His vision exploded with red-hot pain and he staggered forward. “Wha—”

“Push him in, James!”

Big hands grabbed his shoulders and shoved.

Godric went headfirst into the carriage, turning his head just in time to avoid landing on his face and breaking his nose. Even so, the pain from the impact was so intense it was nauseating and his stomach cramped, preparing to void itself. He gritted his teeth to keep back the flood of bile.

His aggressor rolled him onto his back and then folded his legs up against his chest. A face lowered over Godric’s: huge blue-violet eyes creased in a frown, red lips parted, a lock of silky black hair . . .

He blinked, “Y-you—”

“Hallo, Lord Visel.”

Whoever was holding his ankles gave him a shove and his head struck the opposite door. The last thing he heard was, “He’s out cold, James, but you’d best tie his hands.”

* * *

Eva de Courtney, middle and least-favored daughter of the Marquess of Exley, worried her lip as she looked at the man who lay crumpled up on the carriage floor.

“Well, here he is. Now what do you want to do with him, my lady?” James had insisted on trading places with her and was jammed into the back-facing seat, his expression mulish, his huge arms crossed over his chest.

“You know what I want to do.”

For such a large man, he could make the most piteous sounds. “Oh, Lady Eva. Are you sure you wouldn’t—”

“I’m quite sure.”

“But you don’t know what I was going to say.”

“I’ve been able to read your mind since we were both old enough to crawl, James Brewster. You were about to try and talk me out of my plan. Yet again.”

Eva squinted down at the earl and used the toe of her boot to nudge the colorful turban off Lord Visel’s head. “Would you look at that?” she said.

James bent to look. “What?”

“The bugger even dyed his hair.” She cut her groom and oldest friend a quick look. “If that doesn’t convince you he was up to dastardly deeds, then I don’t know what will.”

“I never said he wasn’t up to something, my lady—I know he was. I just don’t think this is the only way to handle it—certainly not the best way to handle it.”

Eva made the dismissive hissing sound she’d picked up from her stepmamma, Lady Euphemia Exley. She thought the sound was a perfect response to most of the dunderheaded things men insisted on saying.

“Well, it’s too late to argue about it or change our minds now. He saw me, so we can hardly just drop him at his lodgings as if nothing happened. He’s sure to set the constables on us.” Or worse, my father.

James chewed this over while the two of them gazed at Lord Visel’s unconscious form.

“We could always cut his throat and dump him in a ditch.”

“My lady!” His eyes were as round as saucers.

Eva laughed. “Lord, James—you’ve lost your sense of humor entirely. Of course I wouldn’t actually kill him.” No matter how much he might deserve such a fate.

“Perhaps we should sit him up, my lady? He’s an earl, after all. I think we should get him off the—”

“No. He’s fine where he is,” Eva said. “I checked his breathing; he’s alive.” Visel’s head would ache like the dickens when he woke up, but that was the least his wretched behavior merited.

James flung himself against the seat back, his abrupt movements causing the entire carriage to jostle. “Lord Exley will skin the hide right offa me.”