Danielle, nursing both a bruised dignity and a bruised body, shifted onthe seat opposite, contenting herself with a muttered stream ofinvective directed at landlords in general and one Monsieur Trimbel inparticular. Linton's annoyance faded as his sense of humor got thebetter of him. How the devil had he allowed his exquisite, peaceful,well-ordered existence to crumble into ashes under the cataclysmicarrival of this outrageous wretch? What had happened to his usuallyutterly reliable sense of self-preservation when he'd decided on a whimto save a street urchin from what was probably well-deservedpunishment? Not probably, indisputably, he decided caustically, as heregarded his urchin, still mumbling and muttering opposite.
The coach bumped and swayed its way through the narrow cobbled streets.It was as well-sprung as one could expect of any hired traveling coachbut nevertheless was unable to cushion its passengers from the jolting,jarring effects of their progress. Linton, resigned to discomfort, helda supporting strap and stretched his long legs as far as was feasiblein the crampedspace. His companion, however, seemed impervious to the discomfort.Compared with her usual mode of travel recently this was luxury,bearing only the most favorable comparison to the back of a hay wagonor the soles of her wooden shod feet.
Paris passed under the intent scrutiny of a fascinated child peeringthrough the small window in the door. Danielle's exposure to urbanliving had consisted only of a few days in Paris as a very small childon her way to England and her grandparents, and the last four days whenshe'd been scratching for a crust of bread in the back streets, earningthe odd bowl of watery broth by sweeping out stores or running errands.Now, from the shelter of this private coach she could view the citywith the holistic eye of an observer rather than through the myopicvision of a starved urchin.
They left the crowded, fetid narrowness of the inner city behind andbegan to move through the environs—still urban, still poor, but the airsmelled cleaner. They passed through the North Gate and were out in thecountryside, their progress slowed by a farmer's wagon, lumberingslowly ahead as it returned emptied of its produce that had, as usual,fetched barely a subsistence price in the market that morning.
The day wore on. Two hours outside the city they stopped at an inn tochange the horses. It was now well past noon and Danielle's stomach wasbeginning to rebel against her impetuous, prideful decision to gobreakfastless. She had had nothing but a sip of water since theprevious evening and although her belly was no stranger to hunger, itssatisfaction last night seemed quite unaccountably to have createdexpectations of regular satisfaction. As her hunger blossomed herstomach growled with annoyance and Danielle lost all pleasure in thescenery and the novelty of the journey in her embarrassment andirritation.
Linton watched her through half-closed eyes for a while before decidingthat she had paid adequate penalty for her earlier obstinacy. Bending,he drew a small hamper out from beneath the seat.
"Here, child. This journey is quite tedious enough without thecacophonous demands of your empty belly."
Danielle took the basket with a dignified thank-you, but her eagerfingers betrayed her as she opened it. A chicken leg, a meat pasty,half of a baguette, a large chunk of ripe cheese, and a strawberry tartnestled in the checkered napkin beside a bottle of lemonade. She raisedher eyes to meet His Lordship's amused regard.
"Will you eat with me, milord?"
"Thank you, no, infant. If you remember, I broke my fast earlier."
Danielle abstained from comment although a pink tinge bloomed on theivory skin. She returned her attention to the contents of the basketand with the ease and recovery of youth consumed every last scrap,washed down with the refreshingly bittersweet taste of the lemonade.
In spite of her obvious hunger she ate with all the daintiness the earlhad noticed the previous evening and—her repast ended—she wiped bothface and fingers fastidiously before returning the napkin to the basketand the basket to the floor beneath her seat. Hot midafternoon sunfilled the confined space and Linton drew the curtains across thewindows. They kept out the blaze, but an airless stuffiness filled thecoach and Danielle felt the sticky trickle of sweat between her breastsand under her arms. With a restless movement she tugged off the woolenjacket. Linton averted his eyes from the outline of those perfectbreasts pressed against her shirt as she drew her shoulders back in herattempt to wriggle out of the tight garment. It was so much easier toforget this budding womanhood when his charge played the role of streetwaif. The next ten days or so were going to be a sore trial, hereflected gloomily, unless he could maintain a distance between them.He could do that only by treating her as a child. She would assuredlyresent that, but any conflict that ensued would be a great deal easierto manage than this overpowering arousal that swept through him at theindications, albeit unconscious on her part, of her very obviousattractions.
Without the heavy jacket, Danielle felt immeasurably more comfortable.The regular motion of the vehicle, the warmth of its interior and thefullness of her stomach all conspired to produce a wonderful feeling oflethargy creeping slowly through her body. She did not identify themain cause of thisrelaxation—that for the first time in an eternity, it seemed, she wassafe and not obliged to keep her wits about her even in sleep as sheplanned her next move or reacted with instinctive wariness to whateverdangers her situation might hold from moment to moment. Since thatFebruary night of horror, she had lived on a knife-edge of fear anddanger, and her constant watchfulness had become second nature as hadthe readiness to attack first and ask questions later. But now thepresence of her large, lazy-eyed companion stretched at his ease acrossfrom her strangely made such wariness unnecessary. Her head nodded asher long lashes fluttered. With an effort she jerked awake again,glancing guiltily at Linton, but his own eyes appeared
