"Good evening, lady," said the horseman, and Tamara felt as though she was cast adrift in his dark eyes. He smiled so sweetly that she had to catch her breath. "What good fortune for us to find you here upon the road. I cringe to think what might have befallen you should you have run afoul of the brigands who prey upon travellers on this road."

He nudged his horse closer to her and reached a hand down toward her. "Come along, bright-eyed lady, and I will see you safely to your destination."

Something nagged at the back of her mind, a distant echo of memory that seemed to argue with the horseman's version of events. She had not been travelling alone, had she? And her carriage was not disabled. Yet the man was so handsome and so gallant that she could not deny his good intentions. It was not safe for her to be out on the street at night alone. And as she swayed and her eyelids fluttered she felt her heart trembling as well and a weakness in her legs that seemed unrelated to her dazed state and instead directly connected to the way he gazed at her with such brazen appreciation.