there. I shall bring Lady Wycherley along in a moment.’ He pulled the horse back and raised his whip in salutation as the coach lurched ahead of them, following the cart up the track. Then he tossed a coin to the tollkeeper and swung down from the saddle, holding his arms out to help Annis dismount.
Annis was both disconcerted and annoyed that she had no other choice but to accept his aid. It was a long way down to the ground and she had no desire to turn her ankle by trying to jump. She placed her hands lightly on Adam’s shoulders and slid down, feeling his arms close about her again to steady her. For a second his cheek brushed hers, his dark hair soft against her skin, then he stepped back and released her gently.
‘You are importunate, my lord,’ Annis snapped, thoroughly ruffled now, ‘both in the way you…you picked me up and the way you set me down!’
Adam raised a quizzical brow. He looped the horse’s reins over his arm. ‘I beg your pardon if I disturbed you, Lady Wycherley.’
Annis turned slightly away and smoothed her skirts down in self-conscious fashion. Adam had disturbed her—very much—but she did not want to admit it. After a moment she was able to regain her composure and fall into step with him on the sun-baked road. The echo of the carriage wheels was dying away up the track and the builders had returned to their work on the tollhouse, and there was no sound but for the birds in the trees and the faint bleating of the sheep in the fields.
‘You are not too shaken, I hope, Lady Wycherley,’ Adam asked, casting her a look of concern. ‘I doubt that they would have hurt you—you simply became caught in the crossfire.’
‘I know.’ Annis put her fingers to her cheek again. The bleeding had stopped, but it felt a little sore. ‘I suppose I was ungracious just now, my lord, and I should thank you for your prompt action. It was kind of you to come to my rescue.’
Adam smiled. Annis’s errant heart did a little flip at the sight of it. ‘It was the first time that I have swept a lady off her feet,’ he said slowly.
The air between them seemed to sizzle with the heat of the day—and something else.
‘I doubt that,’ Annis said, trying to remain practical, ‘and, as a chaperon, I must object to being swept.’
Adam raised one dark brow. ‘Why is that? Do chaperons never experience any adventure, my lady?’
‘Certainly not. It goes against the grain.’
Adam stepped closer. ‘I should imagine that the most useful experience for a chaperon would be to undergo all the things that might happen to one of your charges, in order to be able to advise them what to do in each circumstance.’
Annis choked on a laugh. ‘An outrageous suggestion, my lord!’
Adam shrugged. ‘Tell me if you change your mind, Lady Wycherley.’
Annis started to walk again, her fingers straying to her cheek where the cut was feeling hot and itchy in the sunshine. She saw Adam glance at her and then he took her arm.
‘Come into the shade,’ he said abruptly. ‘I want to have a look at that scratch on your cheek.’
Annis tried to pull away, feeling panic stir in her again. ‘It is nothing—’
‘Nevertheless, I would like to make sure.’
Adam drew her into the shade of a spreading oak tree, dropped the horse’s reins and left the stallion grazing docilely on the bank. He turned to Annis, taking her chin in one hand and tilting her face up to the light. His gaze was intent, his touch was gentle and impersonal, but Annis nevertheless felt as though it was branding her. She tried not to jump away. No one had touched her for a very long time. No one had ever touched her with such tenderness.
‘Hold still…’ Adam’s voice was barely above a murmur, his fingers as light as the stroke of a feather. ‘There is a graze on your cheek, but I do not think it will leave a scar.’
‘It is nothing.’ Annis said again. Her voice was shaky. ‘Please, my lord—’
Adam dropped his hand. His gaze fell to her lips. Suddenly the air between them, hot and heavy already, seemed even more heated.
Annis found that she was shaking. ‘I must rejoin my carriage, my lord,’ she whispered. ‘I am expected at Starbeck—’
There was a pause, then Adam stepped back. ‘Of course. It is only a little further up the road.’
There was a stiff silence between them as they scrambled back down on to the track. When Adam offered her his hand to help her down, Annis hesitated before taking it. Finally, when they were once more walking up towards the crossroads, Annis spoke slowly.
‘How is it, my lord, that it has become dangerous for me to travel alone in the countryside I have known all my life?’
Adam shrugged. ‘These are unhappy times, my lady. Mr Ingram is tightening his grip on a populace already worn down by hunger and poverty. You saw the hostility to the imposition of the tolls just now. It is an even choice as to who is hated more here—Ingram for his greed and meanness or your cousin Charles Lafoy, who was one of them and has now become Ingram’s creature.’
Annis’s lips tightened. She felt indignation on Charles’s behalf but she was afraid for him as well. She had had intimations of this in her letters from the Shepherd family at Starbeck, but this made it all much more real. And more serious.
‘Is it truly so bad? I had not realised. I have read in the papers about the riot over the enclosure of Shawes Common and the arson attacks on Mr Ingram’s property, but—’ she frowned ‘—I had not imagined the hostility to be so strong.’
Adam cast her a look. ‘Even in Harrogate it is sometimes easy to forget the feelings that run high out in the countryside. Perhaps your cousin does not yet realise how much he is disliked, or perhaps he feels that it is worth it for what Ingram must pay him.’
Annis flashed him a look of dislike. ‘I do not believe you should make such an assumption, my lord! You can have no idea why Charles chooses to work for Mr Ingram.’
Adam gave her a cynical look. ‘Do you know why he does? You are very loyal, Lady Wycherley, but perhaps that loyalty is misplaced. Unless I miss my guess, it will be put to the test all too soon.’
Annis stopped abruptly in the middle of the dusty road. ‘Pray explain exactly what you mean by that, my lord!’
‘With pleasure. I am speaking of Starbeck. It is common knowledge that Mr Ingram wants that property. Perhaps he has already made you an offer for it.’ His searching gaze studied her indignant face. ‘No? He will. He is waiting for Lafoy to do his dirty work for him.’
Annis raised her brows haughtily. ‘And?’
‘And Lafoy has already been preparing the ground. The reason that you have not had a permanent tenant at Starbeck for the past two years, Lady Wycherley, is that your cousin has deliberately avoided finding one. He wishes the house to fall down and for you to be unable to afford the repairs. That way Mr Ingram can step in—and make a lower offer.’ Adam laughed. ‘Did you not suspect any of this?’
‘No!’ Annis said hotly. She recovered herself. ‘Nor do I believe you, sir. You are stirring up trouble because of your dislike for Mr Ingram.’
Adam shrugged easily. ‘I cannot deny that I detest Ingram. That is beside the point, however. You will soon see that I am right.’
Annis glared at him from under the brim of her straw hat. ‘You are an odious man, Lord Ashwick.’
‘Why? Because I tell the truth?’ Adam quirked a brow.
‘No. You know what I mean. To set me against my cousin…’
Adam’s expression became grimmer. ‘I am sorry that you see it like that, Lady Wycherley.’ He gestured to the carriage, drawn up ahead of them at the crossroads. ‘Go to Starbeck! See for yourself.’
‘I