Between a Rake and a Hard Place by Connie Mason Page A

disguise he almost didn’t recognize them himself. They’d agreed to pose as miscreants so Jonah could spirit Serena away from the watchful eyes of Amelia Braithwaite for a while. And whatever miniscule amount of booty they collected in this sham robbery, his friends had promised to send back by anonymous post.
    â€œWhy don’t you simply woo the girl, Sharp?” Nate had asked when Jonah first suggested the idea to them at The Blind Pony.
    â€œSerena isn’t like most women,” he tried to explain. “She wants excitement. She’s lured by the unknown. She needs adventure…a hint of danger.”
    â€œGod help you,” his friends had said in unison.
    God help me, indeed.
    Jonah wondered if that counted as a prayer as he led Serena’s horse off the road and down the overgrown lane that wound around to the Warrington hunting property.
    â€œWhere are we going?”
    â€œA friend’s family has a lodge hereabouts. If memory serves, this looks like the way to it.”
    â€œBut ought we not make for the nearest town to report the robbery?”
    â€œOf course we should,” he said as he handed back her reins. “If you wish to see your name in that tabloid next week.”
    Her lips tightened in a thin line, but he knew he’d won that point. However much Serena might enjoy indulging in gossip, she didn’t relish being the topic of it.
    A gabled roof, the thatch dark with age, peeped through the barren trees. Wind rattled through the naked branches, playing a tuneless ditty. Jonah and Serena broke through the dense woods and the cottage came into full view. After the depressing forest, it was a welcoming sight even if there was no smoke rising from the chimney.
    â€œIt doesn’t seem as if anyone is here,” she said, the timidity in her tone surprising him a bit.
    â€œIt would be unusual if there were. This is a hunting lodge, remember, and it’s customarily only occupied during the fall.” When they stopped before the humble dwelling, he dismounted. “We’ll wait here for a bit until the highwaymen have left.”
    â€œBut what about Amelia and Eleanor?”
    â€œI’ll warrant they are more concerned about you than fearful for themselves.” Rhys and Nate had promised to be charming brigands rather than terrifying ones.
    â€œThat’s probably true…of Amelia, at least. She’d keep her head if the Apocalypse was upon her. However, Eleanor is apt to go to pieces.”
    â€œIt should be over fairly quickly,” he said as he tied both horses’ reins to the porch rail. “Highwaymen don’t like to dawdle. As soon as I feel you’ll be safe, we’ll rejoin your party. Let me help you.”
    She looked down at him from the mare’s back. “But will I be safe alone here with you?”
    â€œI don’t understand. You were alone with me in my home and didn’t seem at all concerned.”
    â€œWe were not alone. Your servant Paulson was there.”
    As if Paulson would ever interfere with anything Jonah intended to do. “You’ll be safe, Serena. I have no cigars with me so I can’t imagine you’ll get into any sort of misadventure.” He raised his arms to steady her. “Lift yourself in the stirrups and throw your right leg—”
    â€œLimb,” she corrected. “Right limb.”
    â€œAll right. Throw your right limb over the mare’s rump, and I’ll help lower you down.”
    She raised herself to comply, but stifled a small groan and settled back into the saddle.
    â€œIs something wrong?”
    â€œYes. No.” Her face crumpled in misery. “I think I’m not meant for riding astride.”
    â€œNonsense. You kept your seat brilliantly.”
    â€œAnd now I can barely get out of it.” She raised herself again and this time gingerly swung her leg as he’d instructed. Jonah wrapped his hands around her waist