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legs and lack of high heels made catching up with her easy. “Are you unwell?”
    â€œYes. No. I don’t know.”
    The earl walked beside her, so she snuck glances when she was pretty sure he was occupied with the road ahead. God, he really was tall, wasn’t he? Had to be over six feet. Once she was finally able to kick off these ridiculous shoes, she’d probably only come up to his chin. He wasn’t beefy though, just long and lean and quietly muscled under those classy-as-hell clothes. Of course, they were a bit muddy now from that fall into the ditch, but that didn’t stop them from being of obvious quality and fit.
    His wavy, dark-blond hair curled just over his forehead, giving him an almost rakish look. And he had this way of looking at her, as if he saw right through her somehow. It should be disconcerting, but it wasn’t. It was almost thrilling. He’d make a great subject, actually; inspiration for a new comic hero. Maybe she should ask him… No way .
    Snapping her eyes front, Ella spoke again. “So if you didn’t mean to knock her out, what were you going to do?”
    He pursed his lips. “This was her ridiculous scheme. We were eloping, if you must know. To Gretna Green.”
    â€œOh my God, seriously?” For some reason, Ella’s heart gave a funny little flip before nose-diving all the way down into her stomach. “You were about to get married?”
    â€œNot exactly,” he said. “There was much more to this scheme than that. There was to be a marriage, but I—”
    A cry wrenched from Ella’s mouth as she pitched sideways, directly into him. Pain screamed from her ankle, and then her hip, as she connected with the ground. Patrick grabbed her as quickly as he could, thankfully keeping her skull from cracking against something for the second time that night.
    â€œMiss Briley, are you injured?”
    â€œI’m fine.” Ella winced as she pushed to her feet with his help. When she could stand, she suddenly realized that she could only fully straighten one leg.
    One of her heels had snapped clean off.
    â€œOh forget this,” she growled, bending down to yank the shoes off. She chucked them into the ditch with angry satisfaction.
    â€œYou may come to regret that,” Patrick said mildly, looking in the direction of her discarded footwear. “We’ve still another mile to go.”
    â€œI’d rather go barefoot than take another step in those,” Ella said, wincing as she stepped on a sharp rock. Her hose were no match for the stony roadway. “So let’s go.”
    They’d only gone a few yards when Patrick stopped, a hand cupped to his ear.
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œShhh,” he hissed. “Quiet. Do you hear that?”
    She listened, hard. It was so quiet out there that the sound carried fast and clear.
    â€œHooves, right?”
    He nodded and took her hand. “It may be brigands. Come with me.”
    Leading her off the road, he motioned her to keep silent. Together, they ducked behind a tree at the roadside. Thankful for her black cloak, Ella huddled close to the trunk and the earl. Man, she really hoped there weren’t any snakes in this ditch. The thought made her shake, and she moved a little closer to Patrick. He laid a hand on her shoulder, pressing her closer to the trunk. The warm weight of his palm was comforting. In only a moment, three riders thundered past.
    Ella watched them go, their spurs flashing silver in the moonlight against their dark horses’ heaving sides. They were dressed similarly, but they moved so quickly she couldn’t tell much about their uniforms. She bit her lip, waiting for Patrick’s all clear before she spoke. When he nodded and helped her back onto the road, she asked him, “Were those robbers—or what do you call them, highwaymen?”
    â€œNo,” Patrick said, taking her elbow and steering her down the road