Ripe for Scandal Read Online Free PDF Page A

but Nowlin blocked her with his arm, doing quite the impression of a man bravely guarding his own.
     “Get it yourself, bridle-cull.”
    “Ah-ah-ah. You were so hasty as to toss it to the ground. And I’m not fool enough to dismount. The lady seems the safest choice.”
    When Nowlin didn’t remove his arm, Sandison trained the gun directly at him. “I suppose I could simply shoot you and then
     retrieve it myself. In fact, if you persist in this nonsense, I might take pleasure in doing just that.”
    Nowlin’s arm sagged away from her, and Beau stepped around him, trying desperately not to appear too eager. Why didn’t Sandison
     just shoot him? He had a clearshot. Was he choosing this moment in life to become squeamish?
    She picked her way through the mud and bent carefully to pick up the wallet, hissing as her stays dug deeper into her flesh.
     She thrust the wallet into her pocket as Monty pivoted, swinging his hindquarters about, putting himself between her, Nowlin,
     and the coach.
    Nowlin’s shout of protest was lost in the loud report of Sandison’s pistol and the splintering of wood. Beau grabbed Sandison’s
     arm, fingers gouging into the wet wool of his coat. He swung her up in a flurry of skirts, and Monty sprang away, long legs
     eating up ground at a thunderous pace.
    Gareth wrapped one arm around Lady Boudicea and gave Mountebank his head. The gelding flew through the trees. Small branches
     snatched at Gareth’s hair. One struck his cheek hard enough that he was sure to have a welt.
    Beau clutched at his coat, and he tightened his grip. He’d been lucky to get hold of her at all. Retaining her would prove
     difficult if she fought him. He didn’t ever want to explain that he’d had to hurt Leo’s sister in any way, for any reason.
    “Did you shoot him?” Her question rattled through him, bringing a twinge of conscience in its wake. Lord knew that he’d wanted
     to in the moment, but he understood what might prompt a man to go to such lengths.
    If he hadn’t been friends with her brother, he might have done the same himself. Now that she was shivering in his arms, the
     urge to keep her for himself was nearlyirresistible. It burned beneath his skin, live and hot and wicked.
    “No, I’ll leave that to your brothers. Rescuing you from yourself is effort enough for me.”
    She moved impatiently in his arms. “Can we stop for a moment?”
    Gareth grinned. Get him to stop, give her swain a chance to catch up, give her a chance to slip away and run back to him.
     Cunning, conniving, and unstoppable. That was Beau. “Not just yet, brat. I’d like a bit more distance between us and them
     before I do.”
    “Agreed, but my busk broke when he kicked me, and it hurts like the devil. Monty’s jostling is killing me.”
    He straightened in the saddle, stiffening his seat, and Monty planted his hooves and skidded to a halt. “He what?”
    Gareth swung his leg over Monty’s neck and took them both down to the ground in a single motion. That didn’t sound like one
     of her tricks, and the thought of it brought the red haze back to the edge of his vision.
    “What do you mean he kicked you?”
    Beau swayed unsteadily as she got her feet beneath her. Gareth gripped her shoulders and looked her over. Her hair was a tumbled
     riot, and there was what looked like a bruise waxing across one cheekbone. She looked exhausted. The hollows beneath her eyes
     were deep and shadowed, the skin almost papery.
    “He didn’t take it at all kindly when I hit him with a chamber pot.” Her fingers popped the hooks that held her jacket closed.
     “Now help me, please.”
    Gareth sucked in a breath and did as directed. Thatmight have been the first
please
he’d ever had from her. He tugged off her jacket, stripping the damp silk from her with difficulty. She dragged her trailing
     hair over one shoulder, and he jerked loose the knot that held her stays laced tightly shut.
    “Are you telling me I should have shot