Page 8 of How To Tempt A Bodyguard

Which was inconvenient, given the circumstances.

She moved towards the trunks with quick, nervous steps. "Oh, I do hope nothing's been damaged. My mother's pearls are in one of these, and the Venetian glass. I couldn't bear it if…"

Her hands ran over the locks and bindings as she spoke. Checking. Counting. The three that mattered remained sealed and secure.

She let out a shaky breath.

"They should be fine." Matthew's voice came from behind her. "All seven. Still roped. The earth is soft from the rain a few days past."

Matthew began stacking the trunks like they weighed nothing. His shoulders strained his rough coat. Florence found herself watching his hands that looked capable of crushing a windpipe. Or, apparently, tenderly bandaging an injured wrist with strips of her petticoat.

And unmoved by her beauty.

That was... unusual.

She'd spent years weaponising her face, her figure, the particular tilt of her head that made men stupid and pliable. It was currency. Power. The one advantage God had given her in a world that gave women precious little else.

But this man looked at her like she was a problem to be solved, not a prize to be won.

Florence pressed a hand to her chest. "Thank heavens. I was so frightened. The crash was so violent, and that other carriage didn't even stop." She let her voice waver. "You don't think... you don't think it was intentional, do you?"

She watched his face as she said it. Watched for any flicker of reaction: suspicion, knowledge, complicity.

There was none. Just that flat, assessing gaze.

"Doubt it. Reckless driving. Happens on these roads."

"But they didn't stop to help. Surely that's—"

"People panic. Don't want to face consequences." He shrugged. "Doesn't mean anything."

Florence nodded, wringing her hands. But she filed his response away. He seemed to genuinely believe it was an accident.

"However," he took a step closer and lowered his voice, "it would be prudent to stop at a nearby inn for the night. I know these roads. There’s one not far from here."

"Tonight?" Her eyes widened. "But Bath is so close. Surely we should press on."

"I can better protect you if I have some control over our environment. We need time to replace the carriage and the driver."

She twisted her hands together. "But you said there was nothing to worry about. That it was an accident."

"I did, but you hired me because you’re afraid of someone.” His eyes bore into hers. “I assume that threat still exists.”

"Yes."

"Then it’s my call." He crossed his arms across his chest, his tone making it final. "We’ll stay here tonight."

She hesitated, and the hesitation was real. Every instinct screamed to keep moving. Sitting still meant being a target. Rooms could be broken into, doors forced open, sleeping throats cut before anyone could scream.

But she couldn't say any of that without explaining why she was so certain someone wanted her captured.

"I suppose," she said finally, "if you think it's best."

"I do."

Chapter three

Secret