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are just north of Little Markham.’

      ‘The devil we are.’ He flinched again. ‘I have no idea how many men attacked me, but my body feels as if it was used as a punch bag. If they took my coat and waistcoat, they clearly intended the cold to finish me off. This wood is too small to attract poachers and they would not expect anyone else to be abroad on so cold a night.’ It was as if he was talking to himself and had forgotten her presence, until he glanced up and added, ‘They certainly would not expect an eccentric female to be taking a night-time stroll.’

      Nancy curbed her temper with an effort.

      ‘This is doing no good at all,’ she told him. ‘Let us argue the point by all means, but not here. We are less than half a mile from the Black Bull. Let me take you there.’

      He struggled to his feet, using the nearest tree for support.

      ‘My good woman, I would never make it half that distance.’ He leaned against the trunk, breathing with difficulty as his eyes ran over her. ‘You may be a Long Meg, but I do not think you could carry me all the way.’

      ‘Very well, I will return to the inn and get help.’

      ‘No! That’s too dangerous.’ He added ominously, ‘For both of us.’

      ‘Then what am I do to with you?’ she cried, exasperated.

      ‘Why, nothing. I am grateful for your help, but the best thing now is for you to go away.’ He clung to the tree trunk, his face twisting with pain. ‘If you will allow me to keep your cloak, I think I shall survive the cold and hopefully in a while I shall be sufficiently recovered to make my way back to Darlton.’

      Of all the pig-headed, stubborn—Nancy sought for words to express her frustration and echoed his earlier exclamation.

      ‘The devil you will!’ He did not even blink at her unladylike response, but his brows lifted, as if he was surprised anyone should contradict him. She said, through gritted teeth, ‘You had already admitted you could not reach the Black Bull. You would collapse before you covered half the distance to Darlton. I shall take you.’

      ‘No. I have told you, it is too dangerous.’

      She continued as if he had not spoken.

      ‘My carriage is at the inn, ready to travel. You will wait here for me and I shall take you up and carry you to your house.’ He frowned at her, as if he wanted to refuse. A sudden icy breeze stirred the empty branches and she said bluntly, ‘You will not last for long out of doors in this weather so you had best accept my help. There really is no other way.’

      He scowled at her. ‘As long as you tell no one.’

      ‘If that is what you wish,’ she replied, with a touch of impatience. ‘You are clearly raving and it behoves me to humour you. Once we have deposited you at your abode we will be on our way. My servants are my own and they are engaged to carry me all the way to Yorkshire, so no one here need be any the wiser.’

      ‘By God, you are a stubborn woman.’

      ‘But a practical one,’ she retorted. ‘Now, let me go and fetch my carriage before I, too, become chilled to the bone!’

      She turned to walk away, but he called to her to wait. She glanced back, brows raised.

      ‘To whom am I indebted for this signal service?’

      ‘I do not think it necessary for you to know that, since our acquaintance will not be of long duration.’

      ‘But I should like to know.’ His teeth gleamed in the light. ‘My name is Gabriel Shaw, if that helps.’

      The smile and coaxing note in his voice caught her unawares.

      ‘I am Nancy.’ Heavens, she was behaving like a giddy girl, responding to a charming flirt! She pulled herself together and added coldly, ‘Mrs Hopwood, that is.’

      * * *

      Nancy flew back to the inn, spurred on as much by a sudden excitement as the icy cold. Within minutes of her arrival she had ordered her chaise to be brought to the door and she bundled Hester into it, refusing to answer any questions until they were on their way.

      ‘Now what mischief are you up to?’ Hester demanded as she settled herself more comfortably into one corner. ‘And for heaven’s sake put up the glass!’

      Nancy ignored her. It was snowing again, big, fat flakes that settled on everything. One or two drifted in through the open window, but she refused to close it, peering out into the gloom. As they approached the little wood she leaned out and shouted to William to stop. Even as the carriage slowed to a halt she opened the door and jumped down, ignoring her companion’s horrified grasp.

      ‘Mercy me, whatever are you about? Miss Nancy. Madam!’

      ‘Peace, Hester, I will explain everything in a moment.’

      With a word to the servants on the box, Nancy stared into the copse. At first it was nothing but black trunks and shadows and for one frightening moment she doubted herself. Perhaps she had dreamt the whole thing. Worse, perhaps the man had wandered off and collapsed somewhere. Then she saw a movement among the trees, a cloaked figure coming slowly out of the wood.

      ‘There you are!’ She ran up to him. ‘You are limping. I had not thought—are you badly hurt? Here, let me help you.’

      She pulled his arm around her shoulders. Only then did she realise how tall he must be, because she did not have to stoop to support him.

      He leaned heavily against her.

      ‘Bruised,’ he muttered, ‘nothing broken.’

      ‘Tell me where we are to take you.’ She walked with him slowly towards the chaise while the snowflakes, big as goose down, settled on them.

      ‘Dell House.’ He winced again, and she realised that every step was painful for him. ‘A few miles this side of Darlton.’

      ‘On the Lincoln Road. I know it.’

      They had reached the carriage and she called to Hester to help her get him inside, then she gave hurried directions to her coachman. The men on the box were clearly bursting with curiosity, but Nancy’s tone told them she would brook no objection and they both accepted her instructions with no more than a nod.

      It was more difficult to pacify Hester, who had moved to the corner furthest away from the stranger and was staring at him, horrified.

      ‘Nancy, Nancy, what are you about? You have taken up a drunken stranger. He may be a dangerous villain for all we know.’ She gave a little cry as the carriage lurched forward. ‘Heaven preserve us, have you run quite mad?’

      ‘Not in the least,’ replied Nancy, sitting beside Gabriel and holding him steady. Snowflakes still clung to her jacket and to the cloak wrapped about him. She brushed them off with her free hand before they could melt into the wool. ‘I am merely being a Good Samaritan. We are going to deliver this poor man to his home.’ He was shivering and she added urgently, ‘Pray, put your hot brick beneath his feet, Hester, and give me your shawl. I shall wrap the other brick for him to hold against his body.’

      Hester did as Nancy bade her, muttering all the time.

      ‘I don’t say I understand any of this. Do you know this man?’

      ‘Not in the least, but he assures me he is not intoxicated. He told me he had been waylaid.’ A laugh escaped her. ‘Heavens, what an adventure!’

      Hester’s snort spoke volumes, but Nancy was more concerned with Gabriel, who had lapsed into unconsciousness. She eased him down until he was lying along the seat, his long legs trailing to the floor. The wound on his skull was no longer bleeding and when she placed her fingers on his neck she thought his pulse was stronger, but perhaps she only wanted that to be so.

      ‘I have done as much as I can for him,’ she muttered, sinking

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