Untouched Mistress

Helena’s back was beginning to ache and her right hand was growing numb from clinging so hard and so long to the securing strap. The bouncing and rocking of the carriage was threatening nausea and she had long since closed her eyes to block out the view of the countryside racing by in a blur of green and brown. And still, they had not made their first stop, aside from the rapid change of the horses. She was just gritting her teeth and wondering how much longer she could endure it when she heard a thump upon the roof and the carriage began to slow. Her eyes opened and as the carriage ground mercifully to a halt she could do nothing to contain the sigh of relief that escaped her. The door was open and Lord Varington was leaning out, shouting something up to his driver. He withdrew back inside, shutting first the door, then the window and sat back in his seat.