"So you are ambitious," he murmured. "But at least you're honest."
“Take yourself out of my carriage,” she ordered.
“We're in the middle of nowhere. Where would I go?”
Phoebe gave him a sweet smile. “Go to the devil.”
“And my coachman?”
“You will need him more than I.”
“You would drive these chestnuts yourself?”
“Why not?”
"Interesting," he said.
She scowled. "That I can drive a pair of horses?"
“No. That you haven’t yet resorted to fainting.”
*****
Phoebe prayed the man sitting across from her believed she was sleeping. He had left off further conversation when she relaxed into the corner and allowed her mouth to go slack. She cracked open one eye and observed him. Eyes closed, he too, appeared to be resting. She didn't believe that for an instant. The carriage slowed and the highwayman opened his eyes. Phoebe sighed as if the slight disturbance had intruded upon her sleep and she slumped more heavily into the corner.
A moment of silence followed before the door opposite her opened, then clicked shut. The carriage swayed slightly and she knew he had climbed up top. The vehicle settled and she opened her eyes and scooted closer to the door. They swayed left as the road curved. She gripped the handle and carefully opened the door. The latch released with a tiny click.
Phoebe held her breath, but no cry of discovery came from above. The carriage hugged the shoulder of the road so that she could nearly touch the tree branches. She lifted her skirts, poised to jump, but hesitated at sight of the fast moving ground. She had fallen from the carriage earlier and was none the worse for wear. Hadn’t they been moving slower then? She glanced at the dark forest. If she injured herself, how far would she have to walk to civilization? That challenge, she realized, paled in comparison to her uncle's reaction if he discovered she’d been closeted away with a man for days. Phoebe jumped.
She hit the ground quicker than anticipated. The impact knocked the wind from her. She wheezed for air as a sharp pain shot through her head. The retreating carriage blurred in her vision, seeming to vanish into the yawning mouth of a black cave. She scrambled to her feet and plunged into the fuzzy darkness of the trees.
A sound emanated behind her, but the pounding inside her head muffled it beyond recognition. Phoebe closed her eyes and tried willing the pain into submission. She opened them just in time to miss a low hanging branch. The quick swerve brought her to her knees.
CHAPTER THREE
Flickering light penetrated Phoebe’s consciousness. Orange and red flames swam before her vision and she blinked into focus the fire that burned in the hearth beyond the foot of the bed where she lay. She moved her gaze to the left and saw a door leading to... Phoebe concentrated in an effort to place her surroundings, but the world outside that door—the world beyond this moment—remained a mystery. She looked to the wall on her left, saw an armoire, then the deep alcove farther left. She started at sight of the tall form standing at the alcove’s end, staring out the window.
The highwayman.
He shifted. She clamped shut her eyes. The pad of boots on the carpet drew near and continued around the bed to her right. A faint rustle of clothes followed, then silence. She waited a moment before slitting open one eye. The highwayman reclined in a chair beside the bed. His legs, stretched out before him, spanned the remaining length of the bed. His head rested against the chair back and his eyes were closed. He reached up and rubbed the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger as if to ward off a headache. His hand fell away from his face and Phoebe closed her eyes. Had he seen her? She abruptly felt the dislocation of air near her face, the sense of his nearness, though she had heard no sound of movement.
“What possessed you to take such a foolhardy risk?” he whispered.
A wisp of air brushed her eyelashes. His sigh.
A soft scratching sounded at the door and a dull pain rumbled through her head.
The door clicked open and a voice said, “You must rest, sir.”
Mather.
“If the lady wakens with you hovering over her as you are, you're likely to give her a start.”
“Unlikely,” the highwayman replied in hushed tones. Phoebe knew by the location of his voice, he had straightened away from her. “Any woman who would jump from a moving carriage isn't easily frightened. I'll be glad when Connor has another look at her. Until now, she hasn’t moved a muscle.”
“He promised to be here bright and early,” Mather said.
“Yes,” the highwayman replied in a dry tone. “I wonder if his dedication is due to concern or curiosity.” He chuckled. “The good doctor gave me an odd look when I told him Heddy had fallen from the carriage. Damn, but I hope he doesn’t take it in his head to contact my father.”