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sidestepped along the path, rocking the coach perilously close to the cliff’s edge.
    “Easy,” he repeated softly, but his gaze was no longer on the team, but on the coach itself. Within the space of seconds, the door opened and Miss Alexander exited the vehicle. Relief and annoyance poured through him in equal measure. Relief that she’d displayed the common sense to remove herself from a coach that stood a good chance of toppling over a cliff—unless he managed to unhitch the team, a task he was currently performing with unparalleled ineptitude—and annoyance at the inevitable onslaught of hysteria that would no doubt comprise her reaction to their situation.
    Putting that aside for the moment, he doggedly continued his task. He’d barely managed to find the first clasp when a second bolt of lightening shot from the sky, striking so close he felt the electricity pulse through the air. The team jerked out of his grasp again, rearing in utter panic, their hooves lashing through the air. He lunged backward, barely avoiding the impact of hoof against his skull.
    Nicholas regained his footing only to stumble again, tripping over his sole remaining passenger. Miss Alexander stood right behind him, soaked to the skin, fighting the driving gusts of wind and rain just to remain upright. Rather than moving away from the coach, as might be expected of any sane person, she was moving
toward
it.
    “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted, barely making himself heard over the fury of the storm.
    Her gaze flashed to the frightened team of horses, then back to him. “What are
you
doing?”
    Ignoring her, he reached for the team again, only to have them spook and skitter backward, away from him. A rolling boom of thunder shook the ground around them. The coach tottered precariously against the edge of the cliff.
    “Don’t,”
Miss Alexander hissed, her voice cutting through the pounding rain. Her eyes shot back to the horses. Before Nicholas could stop her, she stepped toward the badly spooked team, her palms spread open wide as though in surrender or supplication. Though her words were indistinct, they were muttered in a low, soothing tone that seemed to calm the panicked beasts. At the very least, she’d managed to divert their attention from the storm and center it on herself.
    Having reached them, she chose the more skittish of the pair and reached up to gently stroke its flanks, continuing her stream of ceaseless, gentle babble. The animal shuddered and leaned into her, as though seeking badly needed reassurance. Somehow she supplied it. To Nicholas’s amazement, the team stilled.
    Miss Alexander shot him a look. Needing no further prompting, he spurred into action. He edged alongside the team, fumbling once again for the clasps to unhitch them. Now that the animals were still, the task was quickly accomplished, despite the driving rain. The harness dropped to the ground with a satisfying clunk.
    Once the horses were free from the burden of the coach, he breathed a sigh of relief and stepped back onto the path. Miss Alexander followed suit. He glanced across at her and received a look so unexpected it temporarily froze him in place. The woman was
smiling
. She was soaking wet, her clothing was drenched, her hair was running down her back in a tangled mass of thick ebony curls, and she was standing up to her ankles in a current of swift-flowing mud. Driving gusts of wind whipped torrents of rain around her. Yet as their eyes met, she sent him a smile of astonishing warmth and approval. The horses were safe.
    Her satisfaction duly conveyed, she reached into the coach and removed her carpetbag. Once that item was securely in her grasp, she spun around and began to march toward him. She hadn’t moved more than two feet, however, when her sodden gown caught and twisted beneath the coach wheel. She gave the fabric an impatient jerk, then another. When both attempts to free her gown faded, she planted her feet in the muddy