two, and she
knew Paxten's every movement. She felt him turn to glance behind
them, knew when he braced his leg against the gig to better handle
a turn, and knew when his shoulders sagged with the effort it cost
him to drive this tiny gig. But he would not allow her to take the
reins, even though she had offered three times now.
The worry had to come out somehow, so she
put it into simmering indignation. "That broach cost eighty
pounds!"
He glanced at her and looked back to the
road. He had kept the pair of horses harnessed to the gig to a
brisk trot ever since they had left the farm house that lay at the
edge of the village. Judging from the sun's position, they traveled
west, but Alexandria would not have made a wager on that. At least
the sun shone, the air held a touch of spring warmth, and the road
stretched open before them.
A smile curved up his mouth, even though she
could also glimpse white brackets of pain there as well. "You ought
to appreciate that you travel in a most expensive carriage."
"Did you have to pay that farmer with that
particular broach?" she asked.
His answer came back unruffled, as amused as
ever. "It was not a time for bargaining as I recall, and it caught
his eye. Was it an heirloom?"
"I would never have allowed
you to give away any of the Chetwynd family jewels!" And now I sound like my mother—or worse, like
Bertram's mother , she decided. Was she
becoming that—a sift-necked, prune-mouthed dowager with nothing
good to say to anyone?
She bit down on the insides of her cheeks to keep
from saying anything more.
On her other side, Diana fidgeted, fussing
with the ties to the bonnet she had snatched up before Paxten had
dragged them out of the inn.
Alexandria's temper flared. "Can you not sit
still?" she snapped, frowning at her niece.
Diana stilled and muttered, "I beg your
pardon." But soon she was twisting again, almost bouncing in her
seat. "Was that not the most exciting thing? I thought certain we
were caught. And to have to run from house to house—how did you
know how do to that, Mr. Marsett?"
He started to answer, glanced at Alexandria,
and said, "Practice at the wrong sorts of things. You should forget
you ever had to do such a thing."
"Oh, but it was just what we needed! And
then to find a farmer just harnessing his gig, and to practically
snatch it out from him!"
"Not exactly a godsend," Alexandria
remarked, her tone dry. She glanced at the mismatched pair of
horses—one brown, the other a roan. Heavy animals with thick,
unruly manes, they looked as if they ought to be pulling a plough.
As to the gig.... "This vehicle has no springs and we are like to
be bounced to death in it."
"We won't be in it long enough," Paxten
said. He had switched to speaking English as soon as they gained
the open road, but now Alexandria stared at him, not comprehending
him in the least.
"Won't be—? After you gave away my favorite
broach to buy this...this...carriage, you say we will not be in it
that long? Are we that near to the coast?"
"We are if you can sprout wings. But, no,
what I had in mind when I spoke is that those soldiers will be busy
only a short while, taking apart that inn. They may follow after
your coach, but when they catch it, they will realize they were
tricked. And they may come back to that inn we left so
quickly."
Alexandria sat back for a moment, frowning.
"You think they will talk to the farmer who sold us this gig?"
"Perhaps. If they do, the man might not want
to talk about the broach given him, but there are ways a man can be
persuaded into talking."
Diana leaned forward to glance at him from
the other side of Alexandria, her expression worried. "Persuaded—do
you mean as in using force?"
Paxten lifted one shoulder. "Perhaps only
threats. In any case, we are best served if we take the chance out
of it. Which means we need to acquire another means of
transport—and new identities."
Diana's eyes brightened. "Really? Oh, may I
disguise myself as a boy and
knew Paxten's every movement. She felt him turn to glance behind
them, knew when he braced his leg against the gig to better handle
a turn, and knew when his shoulders sagged with the effort it cost
him to drive this tiny gig. But he would not allow her to take the
reins, even though she had offered three times now.
The worry had to come out somehow, so she
put it into simmering indignation. "That broach cost eighty
pounds!"
He glanced at her and looked back to the
road. He had kept the pair of horses harnessed to the gig to a
brisk trot ever since they had left the farm house that lay at the
edge of the village. Judging from the sun's position, they traveled
west, but Alexandria would not have made a wager on that. At least
the sun shone, the air held a touch of spring warmth, and the road
stretched open before them.
A smile curved up his mouth, even though she
could also glimpse white brackets of pain there as well. "You ought
to appreciate that you travel in a most expensive carriage."
"Did you have to pay that farmer with that
particular broach?" she asked.
His answer came back unruffled, as amused as
ever. "It was not a time for bargaining as I recall, and it caught
his eye. Was it an heirloom?"
"I would never have allowed
you to give away any of the Chetwynd family jewels!" And now I sound like my mother—or worse, like
Bertram's mother , she decided. Was she
becoming that—a sift-necked, prune-mouthed dowager with nothing
good to say to anyone?
She bit down on the insides of her cheeks to keep
from saying anything more.
On her other side, Diana fidgeted, fussing
with the ties to the bonnet she had snatched up before Paxten had
dragged them out of the inn.
Alexandria's temper flared. "Can you not sit
still?" she snapped, frowning at her niece.
Diana stilled and muttered, "I beg your
pardon." But soon she was twisting again, almost bouncing in her
seat. "Was that not the most exciting thing? I thought certain we
were caught. And to have to run from house to house—how did you
know how do to that, Mr. Marsett?"
He started to answer, glanced at Alexandria,
and said, "Practice at the wrong sorts of things. You should forget
you ever had to do such a thing."
"Oh, but it was just what we needed! And
then to find a farmer just harnessing his gig, and to practically
snatch it out from him!"
"Not exactly a godsend," Alexandria
remarked, her tone dry. She glanced at the mismatched pair of
horses—one brown, the other a roan. Heavy animals with thick,
unruly manes, they looked as if they ought to be pulling a plough.
As to the gig.... "This vehicle has no springs and we are like to
be bounced to death in it."
"We won't be in it long enough," Paxten
said. He had switched to speaking English as soon as they gained
the open road, but now Alexandria stared at him, not comprehending
him in the least.
"Won't be—? After you gave away my favorite
broach to buy this...this...carriage, you say we will not be in it
that long? Are we that near to the coast?"
"We are if you can sprout wings. But, no,
what I had in mind when I spoke is that those soldiers will be busy
only a short while, taking apart that inn. They may follow after
your coach, but when they catch it, they will realize they were
tricked. And they may come back to that inn we left so
quickly."
Alexandria sat back for a moment, frowning.
"You think they will talk to the farmer who sold us this gig?"
"Perhaps. If they do, the man might not want
to talk about the broach given him, but there are ways a man can be
persuaded into talking."
Diana leaned forward to glance at him from
the other side of Alexandria, her expression worried. "Persuaded—do
you mean as in using force?"
Paxten lifted one shoulder. "Perhaps only
threats. In any case, we are best served if we take the chance out
of it. Which means we need to acquire another means of
transport—and new identities."
Diana's eyes brightened. "Really? Oh, may I
disguise myself as a boy and
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