Georgiana woke to the feel of something warm against her, and she snuggled closer to the pleasant sensation. Raindrops pattered, and her back felt stiff. She had a moment of sympathy for her aunts who sometimes complained of back pain. She shifted again, trying to gain a softer position.

Normally this wasn’t difficult. Normally she could move her blanket, and for some reason she couldn’t feel a blanket—

She opened her eyes.

She was in a coach.

Not her bed.

And the soft sensation beside her was not some helpful pillow or scrunched up blanket, but a real, live person.

Hamish Montgomery.

She swallowed hard and jerked away from him.

The sensation was evidently enough to cause him to wake up, for in the next moment he was blinking and rubbing his eyes. Then he realized where he was, and she noted the moment when horror flooded his eyes.

Obviously, the man was feeling guilty.

That had to be good.

She rather wished he were still sleeping. The problem with men who were awake was at some point they decided they wanted to speak, and she didn’t know how to best respond to him.

All the same, he was different than she’d imagined.

He’d been almost sweet last night, even though she supposed that hardly rectified the fact he had most certainly not returned her to her family.

He stood up, ducking his head down low once he’d managed to open his eyes and take in the impropriety of their surroundings.

“I—er—should go outside.” His voice sounded husky, and he raked a hand through his hair.

She nodded.

He paused. “You should come with me. We’ll need to find someone to repair the wheel.”

She removed the man’s tailcoat and followed him out. The surroundings did not seem as intimidating as they had last night. She noted the wooded area, but she could see it did not stretch out for miles in every direction. Tall hedges surrounded the road, but on the other side were fields that stretched on either side of them. The right-hand side included something that looked very similar to homes.

“I think that’s the start of the village,” she said.

He grinned. “Aye, lassie. Let’s go.”

They proceeded toward the dwellings. The road went through the thick woods, but if they cut through the fields, they could reach the buildings soon. A stone wall interrupted some of the hedges, and Hamish led her toward it.

He extended his hand. “It’s perhaps not Almack’s but—”

“It’s just what I desired,” she said with a laugh. She took his hand, and a sizzle of energy seemed to come through at the contact. Perhaps this was why everyone always insisted young women wear gloves. On the other hand, she suspected the thrill that thrummed through her at the briefest contact with him was something more unique to him.

She climbed over the wall, clutching hold of his hand. Her slippers slid over the rounded stones.

He frowned. “I have some spare boots in the carr—”

She grinned. “That would hardly do. Your feet are massive.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “Though I would say rather that yours are extraordinarily small.”

“Extraordinarily is perhaps an unnecessary word.”

“That is debatable,” he said.

He’d spoken so lightly to her and with such good humor, that somehow she hadn’t noticed that she’d clambered over the wall. He’d made it over as well, and he smiled at her.

She smoothed her dress. She was a country girl, after all, and wasn’t supposed to be flummoxed at the sight of a field, even though she’d never approached them with such bad footwear before.

She strode into the field, taking a dirt path that some farmer had made. When they reached a gate, Hamish extended his hand and helped her over it. The rain started to drizzle down, but despite her rehearsed words to the contrary in London, she did not mind.

*

THE WHEEL WAS FIXED, and Hamish settled into the carriage. This time Georgiana climbed up after him, and he was happy for the company. They needed to press on to get to Gretna Green. With any luck they would meet his brother before they reached Scotland.

Unfortunately, Callum didn’t seem to want to be found. Georgiana and he stopped at every posting inn, and though Hamish searched each inn’s public spaces, he spotted neither Callum nor his intended bride.  Upon being asked, no one recalled seeing them.

His brother’s absence should have been frustrating, but for some reason relief prickled through him. He wasn’t ready for a protracted argument about the merits of Callum marrying or not. Postponing that discussion was fine. After all, he didn’t want to break Georgiana’s heart if he won the argument, and he did not want to force any embarrassment or dishonor on the Butterworth family.

The journey to Scotland was proving vastly more pleasant than his journey away from it had been, and he suspected he could not explain that fact simply because Scotland was a far nicer destination.

He suspected that it also had something—a great something—to do with Georgiana herself.

That fact was not something upon which to linger.

It was natural to feel some attraction to an unattached woman of a certain age with whom one was spending long periods of time, even if the woman in question was not Scottish, and even if she was the sister of one’s brother’s inappropriate fiancée.

Still, the lassie made him laugh like no other, and the tips of his lips were gaining more exercise than he’d thought possible.

“It’s so pretty here,” she mused.

“Is that why you sneaked onto the coach?” he teased.

She stiffened “No, of course not.”

“I know,” he said, his tone more serious. “And we will find your sister.”

She nodded.

“So where have you been before?” he asked.

“Norfolk and London. And now Cambridgeshire.”

“Do you miss Norfolk?”

She giggled. “I don’t think any people from Norfolk would admit to missing it, though to be honest, it is nice. I do prefer the countryside, no matter how much grander and more imposing the buildings in London are. I can see that they’re special, but I would still rather be outside, in nature. Façade admiration is really less enjoyable than flower admiration.” She smiled. “Though you would perhaps disagree.”

“Are you volunteering to drive this contraption, lassie, so I can sit inside and appreciate the architectural interior?”

She laughed.

“I’m going to get you to your sister,” he said. “But if the gossips do find out about it—”

“Then it won’t matter,” she said firmly. “I will already have helped her.”

“But what about your future?”

“Family is what is important. I couldn’t let her think she was fleeing to happiness, when I knew that you were going after her to stop the wedding and remove that happiness from her.”

“But I wasn’t going after her. I didn’t know she was planning to elope.”

Georgiana gave a small sad smile. “That was my mistake. But my intention hasn’t changed.”

He nodded.

He’d thought her quite mad for her actions, but in truth she’d only done what perhaps he would have done in a similar circumstance. They were both seeking to protect their siblings.

By hiding herself away in his carriage, she’d done what very few people might do, and the thought filled him with respect for her.

“Besides,” she added, “I owed it to my parents.”

“You’re lucky to have them,” he said. “I should like to know more about them.”

“I’m sorry you don’t have yours,” she said gently.

He shrugged. “It’s sad when anyone dies. I didn’t know them well enough to be sad.” He gave a laugh that somehow managed to sound jarring. “Callum and I were largely raised by nursemaids anyway, so when we had a guardian instead of a parent to instruct them, it didn’t make much of a difference.”

“Who was your guardian?”

“One of our neighbors. A distant relative.” Hamish smiled. “Lord McIntyre. He and his wife raised us. Though they’re both dead now too.”

“McIntyre?” Georgiana asked. Her voice sounded faint. “As in Lady Isla McIntyre?”