Page 50 of Outrageous

“Here.” Godric handed over her tall beaver hat while he held up his now-soaked cloak with the other arm.

Her short hair was far easier to tuck under her hat than it had been before, and she was soon ready. She looked up to find him examining her with a bemused expression. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Your cloak is soaked”

“Yes,” he agreed, lowering the heavy garment and exposing them both to the weather. “Luckily it’s not terribly cold.”

Eva begged to differ, but kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t as cold as last year—which people had taken to calling the Year Without a Summer—but it was still well below average.

Godric tossed the sodden garment inside the carriage, shut the door, and then picked up both of their bags.

“I can carry mine,” she said.

He just looked at her. “Come, let’s—”

“Drop those bags and turn around very slowly.”

* * *

Godric’s first thought was, You’ve got to be bloody joking! It was as if the universe was conspiring to keep them from the Scottish border. Perhaps that should tell him something? Perhaps—

“This is no jest,” a youthful male voice said, the tone unnaturally high. “Turn around.”

“Don’t say anything,” Godric muttered to Eva, who gave him her usual glare.

When they turned, Godric couldn’t see their assailant at first. He began to lift his hand to shield his eyes.

“Don’t move!” This was practically a shriek.

It also helped him locate the voice’s owner. Godric squinted, not sure he could believe what he was seeing.

“Good Lord, are you wearing a dress?” Eva’s voice dripped with amusement and disbelief.

Godric bit back a groan.

“That’s none of your affair,” their captor snapped at her, coming out from under the foliage that hung close to the road. Yes, it was a young man and he was indeed wearing a dress, as well as spectacles that appeared to be missing one lens and were perched unevenly on his nose. He was also carrying a long, odd-looking rifle.

He shifted the gun so that he could hold it with one hand, propping it none too steadily on his hip. “I’ll take your money and—and the bag with your clothes.” He gestured to Godric with something that bore a striking resemblance to—

This time it was Godric who couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Is that a blunderbuss?”

“It’s an arquebus, actually.” The young man sounded pleased. “One of the oldest on record. There is quite detailed scrolling on the bronze work near the hammer. It is possible it once belonged to Donatello Visconti, a Viennese lord.”

Godric could only stare.

Eva, predictably, laughed. “You sound like my old governess. You don’t need that arky-whatever; you could just bore your victims to death.”

Godric briefly closed his eyes.

“You’d better shut up,” the gun expert shouted. “I’m not afraid to use it.”

Godric opened his eyes. “Now, there’s no—”

“Why don’t you make me shut up?” Eva demanded. “I’ll bet that thing isn’t actually loaded. Even if it is, you don’t look as if you’ve ever fired a weapon in your life. I could probably hurl a stone with more accuracy. I could—”

Godric slid one hand around her shoulder, covered her mouth with the other, and pulled her close to his body.