course—"
He held out a hand to her. “If you will allow me, Miss Windham. It will be dark soon.”
As if that decided everything. She clenched her jaw, but he did not lower his hand, only met her gaze steadily. Finally, she exhaled and stepped down from the coach on her own, ignoring his hand. Her boots immediately sank into the mud a good two inches and she snatched up her skirts so her hem would not drag.
Jenny followed her without a word, though she did accept Cole’s help with a blush. Daphne led the way across the road to stand upon a patch of grass a bit less muddy than the rest, and somewhat sheltered under the thick leaves of a tree. They turned back to watch as the coachman climbed back to his seat and Cole took up position behind the coach.
“Ready?” he called forward.
“Aye, sir.”
“Now!” Cole pushed his shoulder into the back of the coach, his boots sliding in the mud. The coachman snapped his reins and urged the horses forward, but just like before, the coach moved only a few inches before sliding back yet again. They gave two more attempts in quick succession without any better results, until Cole stood panting from the effort, nearly soaked through with rain, sweat, and mud.
Daphne would not feel guilty. She would not. If he hadn’t teased her, she never would have insisted they drive this way. Besides, he was only getting some of what he deserved.
But then Cole turned to her and Jenny, wiping his face with the back of his hand, and her stomach tightened. He looked tired. Defeated.
“I am sorry, ladies,” he said. “Perhaps Miss Windham would take my horse and the rest of us might walk.”
Daphne did not know why she did it—perhaps she was simply tired and wet and longing for a fire. Or perhaps it was because in that moment she saw a glimpse of the boy he’d been so long ago. But somehow she found herself trudging back across the road, dropping her skirts as she came to stand beside Cole.
“Once more,” she said through the knot in her throat.
Cole stared at Daphne. It felt like that was all he had been doing since he’d spotted her in the coach not ten minutes past.
“You… want to help?” he finally managed to ask.
She raised her narrow chin, arms stiff at her side. “If that is what it takes.”
If she’d announced her intention to become a female scientist and embark on a years-long expedition to Africa, Cole did not think he would have been more surprised. But Daphne—Miss Windham, he supposed he should call her now—set her shoulder against the back of the coach, her red-brown curls damp and limp against her neck.
He shook his head, but took his place beside her. Who was this cool and distant woman? The Daphne he’d known before had rarely spoken in anger. She’d been sweet and gentle and quiet. But then, that Daphne hadn’t had any reason to be angry with Cole. Not like the one who stood beside him, preparing to push the coach free of the mud.
“Ready, Mr. White?” he called again.
At the coachman’s word, the coach jolted forward and Cole threw his shoulder into the back of the equipage with as much force as he could manage. Daphne pushed beside him, her half boots covered in mud, eyes squeezed shut as she strained.
Suddenly the wheels moved, jerking the coach away from them, and they stumbled forward. Cole grabbed for Daphne, seizing her around the waist to stop her from falling face first into the mud. She grasped his arms and steadied herself as her feet slipped beneath her.
Then she froze, her hands clenched into the fabric of his shirtsleeves. Her wide eyes—those stunning, hazel eyes—flew up to meet his for the briefest of moments. She released him and stepped backward so quickly she nearly fell again. But then her maid was there, giving Daphne her arm and plying her with questions about her well-being.
“Thank you, Mr. Everard,” Mr. White called from where he’d stopped the coach a dozen feet ahead. “I think we shall be all right now.”
Cole shook his head. “I’ll follow you to be sure, if it’s all the same to you.”
“As you wish, sir.”
Cole turned back to the women, but they were already hurrying to the coach. Daphne did not look back, though the maid cast a curious glance over her shoulder. He opened his mouth, but what could he say? He