Sunday, May 5, 2013


In this scene, Yvette is being pursued by a pair of unsavory characters. Ewan rescues her, but she's not so sure he's less dangerous than the men who'd been chasing her.  

He knew her?
Careening along neck or nothing, Yvette peered over her shoulder. The men continued to chase her, only now, they were closer. There’s no help for it then. It’s either this stranger, or them. She had no idea who this ornate carriage belonged to, but she prayed he was better than the blackguards chasing her.

He knew her name and besides, she had her dagger. She released her bonnet which promptly plopped onto her forehead. Doubtful but desperate, she extended her hand.

At once it was clasped in a strong grip.

Yvette jumped, lurching into the carriage. The momentum flung her, arms and legs splayed, across a very stylish, very male lap. Her valise thwacked the occupant alongside his head. Her squeal of surprise was drowned out by his grunt of pain.



His hat toppled to the carriage floor. Through the black lace edging her bonnet, she glimpsed a tanned, hawkish face and midnight hair. Tangled in her skirts and shawl, she whiffed his spicy scent even as she tried to scramble off him. Levering herself upward, her hand pressed against his generous maleness.

Lord have mercy.

Cheeks reddening, Yvette released her hold on the satchel, and flopped onto the floor in an undignified heap. Her gaze flew to his face and darted away again before he looked up.

A low chuckle rumbled throughout the bouncing vehicle.

He was laughing at her, the lout. Who was he?

Her curiosity and gratitude faded into leeriness. Perhaps jumping into his carriage hadn’t been the better choice. She righted herself and crawled off the floor and onto the opposite seat. Reaching to grasp her bag, at the precise moment her rescuer bent to retrieve his hat, Yvette smacked her head on his square chin.

The man grunted in pain for a second time.

Dear Lord, I’ve injured him, again.

“Blast it all. I’m terribly sorry, sir.” Quite cross, she retreated into the shadowy corner of the plush carriage and rubbed her throbbing forehead. “Who are you?”

Peeking at him from beneath her lashes, she reached to straighten her bonnet. It hung askew off the side of her head, like a giant drooping peony. She shoved it into place but the moment she removed her hand, it flopped over once more.

The stranger's unrestrained laughter filled the carriage.

“Oh, bother.” Yvette’s patience with both her rescuer and the silly bonnet were at an end. She had no choice but to remove the dratted thing to reaffix it. Several strands of hair tumbled to her shoulders when she removed the cap from her head. Suppressing a shriek of annoyance, she placed the hat beside her. She then set about securing the wayward curls. Pinning the last strand in place, her eyes met those of her companion.

She stilled, as did the world around her. The air hung suspended in her lungs. Her eyes widened in disbelief, her stunned gaze riveted on his face.

“You exist?”





Debby said...

What a great excerpt. I wonder what that last sentence means.
debby236 at gmail dot com

Miss Viola said...

Cliff-hanger ending to the excerpt! Wraps around you and drags you in! ~ Viola