She peered through the glass.
A puff of steam obscured the platform, then swirled away, to reveal a man staring straight at her.
He was the kind of man it was impossible to miss. Tall, dark-haired, long-legged, he wore a long dark grey coat, with a scarlet cravat tied carelessly around his neck. His hands were gloveless and she saw the flash of a gold signet ring on his right hand. Yet it was the energy that emanated from him that she noticed most of all. Even standing still, he seemed to convey a restlessness, a sense of contained speed, as though, like the train in front of him, he wanted to move fast in a determined direction.
His dark gaze was intent as he stared through the train window into her eyes, before another puff of steam obscured him once again from view.
Maud drew back. The man’s gaze had been magnetic, powerful, as though there was not a glass window between them, but nothing at all.
The cloud of steam cleared once again, but the dark-haired man had vanished.
‘I say!’
Maud spun around on her seat.
Another passenger had entered the carriage, a portly young man in a checked overcoat, red-faced beneath his top hat.
‘Excuse me, madam,’ he said to the old lady in braying tones. ‘You are in my seat.’
‘Oh, dear, oh, dear,’ the old lady quavered. ‘What did you say?’
The young man scowled. ‘I tell you, that’s my seat! I especially wanted a window.’
The old lady’s mouth trembled.
Maud looked around for the train conductor. He was nowhere to be seen.
She leaned forward. ‘Excuse me, sir. Might I see your ticket?’
The young man turned. ‘What?’ he demanded, in an imperious tone, looking down on her, his blue eyes bulbous.
Maud lifted her chin. She hadn’t been a governess for five years to be intimidated by this overgrown boy.
‘Might I see your ticket?’ she repeated, in a tone that no child had ever refused.
The young man puffed out his breath and looked about to argue. Muttering under his breath, he handed it over.
‘Thank you.’ Maud scrutinised it, then glanced at the seat number. She bit her lip, vexed. When she had helped the old lady settle into her seat, she hadn’t thought to check her ticket.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said to the old lady. ‘It seems there has been some mistake. You do appear to be in the wrong seat.’
The old lady clutched her lace handkerchief. ‘Oh, how dreadful!’
‘I told you so!’ said the young man, triumphantly.
Maud returned the ticket to him.
‘I’m sure this lady would like to remain in her seat,’ she said quietly. ‘She is suffering from travel sickness. Will you do her the kindness?’
Maud caught a whiff of claret as the young man puffed out his cheeks. ‘Certainly not! That’s my seat and I want it.’
‘That is the height of discourtesy!’ Maud couldn’t hold back the reprimand. ‘This lady is old enough to be your grandmother!’
The man turned even redder. ‘Who are you to try to teach me manners?’
‘It’s a pity no one else has taught you,’ Maud retorted. ‘Please, let this lady stay where she is.’
The old lady began to struggle up. ‘I don’t want to cause any inconvenience.’
Maud jumped to her feet, the book of fairy tales tumbling from her lap. ‘Please take my seat, if it is a window seat you’re after.’
‘I don’t want your seat,’ the young man said stubbornly. ‘I want the seat I paid for!’
Another, taller man had entered the carriage.
It was the man from the platform, Maud realised in a flash. The sense of suppressed purpose, of energy around him, was even more palpable in close proximity. Yet his demeanour was impassive as he surveyed the scene.
‘What seems to be the matter?’ he asked coolly.
‘This young gentleman...’ Maud allowed some scorn to enter her voice ‘...insists that this lady vacate her seat.’
‘I tell you. She is in the wrong seat!’ The young man brandished his ticket.
‘Wrong seat or no, surely you can allow her to remain. As I told you, she’s not well.’
‘That’s not my concern,’ the young man snarled.
The dark-haired man stepped forward. His voice was low, but the authority in it was unmistakable. ‘The train’s about to depart. I happen to know there is a window seat available in the other first-class carriage. If you would care to take it, these ladies can remain here.’
The young man began to bluster, but after a look into the eyes of the man in front of him, he appeared to change his mind.
‘Very well,’ he said with a sulky expression.
‘Excellent.’ The dark-haired man turned to the conductor, who had finally appeared. ‘Could you show this gentleman to his new seat?’
The conductor bowed. ‘Very good, sir.’
With another puff of claret-fumed annoyance, the young man followed the conductor out of the carriage.
Maud let out a sigh of relief.
The dark-haired man leaned down and picked up the book of fairy tales. He frowned as he glanced at the title. ‘Is this yours?’
She nodded. His fingers grazed hers as he returned it to her.
He bowed and left the carriage.
Maud took her seat. She clutched the book, the sensation of his warm fingers still imprinted on hers.
‘Thank you, my dear,’ the old lady said, with a grateful smile, as the train began to move away from the station.
A few minutes later the conductor returned. He tipped his cap. ‘I hope you two ladies are settled now.’
‘Very well, thank you.’ Maud was unable to restrain her curiosity. ‘The gentleman who came to our assistance. How did he know there was a seat available in the other carriage? Did he offer his own seat?’
The conductor chuckled. ‘They’re all his seats.’
Maud drew back her head. ‘What on earth do you mean?’
‘He’s the owner of the West Cornish Railway Line. That’s Sir Dominic Jago.’
Copyright © 2020 by Eliza Redgold
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