One step at a time. She chivied her flagging courage. Getting out of Winchester undetected was her first goal.
“Gideon.”
A man spoke from the stable doorway. Charis started, again testing her injuries, and felt the blood drain from her face. Her rescuer reached out but cut the gesture short of making contact. “Don’t worry. He’s a friend.”
Such was his natural authority, Charis curtailed her retreat, although her heart pounded like a hammer and cold sweat broke out on her skin.
“I’m here,” Gideon called, without taking his eyes off her.
Another man, as tall as her rescuer, slender, dark, obviously foreign for all his fine London tailoring, strolled into view. “What have you found?”
“Miss Watson, this is Akash. Akash, may I present Miss Sarah Watson? She’s been set upon by ruffians and requires aid.”
The newcomer’s liquid brown eyes rested upon Charis. She waited for him to question her threadbare tale. But after a pause, he merely quirked one elegant black eyebrow at Gideon.
“I’m guessing we’re not staying here tonight?” His voice was pure England, although he looked like he inhabited some Arabian fantasy.
“You know I’m in a hurry to get to Penrhyn.”
“Indeed,” he said neutrally.
“Yes, via Portsmouth.”
“I’ve always had a violent desire to visit Portsmouth.” Akash sounded perfectly undisturbed at the prospect of braving the cold to assist a stranger. Too undisturbed.
Suddenly, Charis didn’t feel safe after all. Putting herself into the care of two unfamiliar men was the height of foolishness. Their quick acceptance of her paper-thin story seemed suspicious rather than reassuring.
On trembling legs, she backed toward Khan, who whickered softly in her ear. “I can’t impose on your good natures. I shall make my own way to my aunt.”
“No man of honor would countenance such a plan, Miss Watson.” Gideon sounded immovable.
She could sound immovable too. “Nonetheless, it is what I must do.”
Gideon sent a quick smile to his companion. For one dazzling moment, amusement lit his face to brilliance. Glittering dark eyes, creases in his cheeks and around his eyes, a flash of straight white teeth.
Charis’s heart lurched to a halt, then broke into a wayward race. Foolishly, in spite of fear and pain and mistrust, she longed for nothing more than to see him smile again.
Smile at her.
“I believe you’ve terrified the chit, Akash.”
She ignored Akash’s soft laugh and frowned at Gideon. “Pray, sir, I’m no chit.”
“Would you feel happier if I gave you this?”
She looked down to see him extending a small dueling pistol. She hadn’t noticed him reaching into his jacket. Tiredness made her stupid. Tiredness and the effects of a vicious beating.
And most unwelcome admission of all, a man’s unguarded smile.
She stared at the gun as though she didn’t recognize what it was. The room receded in dark waves. The thunder in her ears rose to blanket all other sound.
“Akash!”
Gideon’s shout came from a long way off, then the world spun as strong arms swept her off her feet.
But not the strong arms she wanted to close around her. Even through her near faint, she recognized that bone-deep and mortifying fact.
Gideon stared at the half-unconscious girl Akash clutched to him. She was a tumble of slender arms and legs and frothy blue skirts. Her bright bronze hair trailed across Akash’s black sleeve like a flag. Her hem was torn and wet, and her pale blue half boots were caked in mud.