"Oh, but I would much rather know now. It's better to be prepared,don't you think? Could you not explain?"
"No, I could not!" the earl roared, closing his eyes against the sharpstab of pain. "Just get out of here, would you? And tell them to bringup my shaving water and I'll breakfast in an hour."
"Yes, milord." Danielle sketched him a sardonic curtsy and turnedbehind the dressing screen. "The water's cold," she complained.
"Well, since you have managed without it altogether for I don't knowhow many weeks, you should be grateful for what there is" was thecallous reply.
She pulled a face in the direction of the bed, but washed as best shecould and pulled on the landlady's son's clothes. If she was to spendanother day in that horrid coach it didn't matter if she started outlooking scruffy. She would save her rather more respectable suit formore public occasions.
The kitchen was filled with the wonderful smells of fresh baking whenshe reached it.
"Bonjour,
madame."
Her cheery greetingbrought thelandlady around from the bread oven, a batch of crescent-shaped rollssteaming golden brown on the flat wooden paddle between her hands.
The plump face, rosy from the oven, beamed at Danny. "It's going to bea beautiful one, lad. How's
your master this morning?"
"Wants his shaving water."
"The kettle's hot on the range," Madame instructed brightly. "Jug's onthe dresser." She was too busy arranging a second batch of rolls on thepaddle to notice Danny's indignant, startled expression. So, she wassupposed to do it herself, was she?
"You can take the clean linen up with you," the landlady continued."Your own clothes are there, too—
all pressed and as good as new."
Danielle muttered to herself as she filled the jug with the dipper fromthe iron cauldron on the range. The jug was very heavy and she crammedthe clean laundry under one arm before picking itup by an uncomfortably warm handle and staggering for the door.
"Come back down for your breakfast," the cheerful voice called afterher.
Danielle aimed a warning kick at the door of the chamber before settingdown her burden and reaching for the latch. The door, however, swungopen and a startled Earl of Linton stood there, splendid in a long robeof brocaded silk.
"It's heavy," she mumbled in half-apologetic explanation.
"I see," he responded dryly, bending to lift the jug.
"I thought inns were supposed to have their own servants." She followedhim into the room with the pile of laundry.
"So they do," her exasperating companion concurred blandly. "But sinceI have a perfectly good one of my own, I'm sure Madame Bonnet considersit unnecessary to employ hers on my personal needs."
"I suppose you'd like me to shave you as well?"
"I do not think, brat, that I would trust you with a razor," HisLordship chuckled, examining the clean linen with a sudden frown. "Youdo appear to have creased my cravat. That's the second one you'veruined."
"I've only got two hands, you know," Danielle snapped.
"Well you could always have made two journeys. Or didn't that occur toyou?"
Danny gobbled at him in wordless fury and His Lordship, withinfuriating calm, said, ''If you have something to say, infant, do soquickly. I wish to get dressed."
Those brown eyes threw daggers at him before she turned on her heelwith an impudent twitch of her small rear that aroused in the earl twoquite conflicting urges and flounced out of the room.
"Shouldn't wonder if His Lordship's got quite a head on him thismorning," Madame Bonnet remarked casually as she half filled a bowlwith hot creamy milk, added strong black coffee, and set it on thetable before Danny.
"Why?" Danny mumbled through a mouthful of honeycomb and hot, freshbread.
"Dipped deep into the cognac last night," her informant statedmattef-of-factly. "Must have something
on his mind."
Danielle pondered this information in silence. She was well accustomedto the aftereffects of a heavy night on the imbiber—her father anduncles had given her ample opportunities for observation of thatcondition. It would certainly explain Milord's irascibility.
The imperative peal of a bell from within had Madame Bonnet cluckingover to the range for the coffeepot. "That'll be His Lordship wantinghis breakfast. Hurry along, lad." She thrust a laden tray toward Danny,who was about to announce that she'd finish her own meal first, butthought better of it.
Her protector, apart from a slight heaviness around the eyes, waslooking his usual immaculate self, the black hair drawn into a neatqueue at his neck, snowy lace at throat and wrists beneath a browncloth coat over a short waistcoat of the same material. Buckskinbritches and top boots encased the shapely legs.
Danny placed the tray on the table, regarding him solicitously."Perhaps, milord, you should take a powder for your headache. It mightmake you feel more the thing."
"What headache?" His Lordship demanded suspiciously.
"In my experience, sir, when one gets foxed it is the usualconsequence." She smiled innocently.
"What the devil do you mean, brat? I was not foxed! And what do youknow about it, anyway?" But he was talking to empty air. Danielle hadwhisked herself from the room. Furiously he tugged the bellpull againand within seconds the door opened and the impish face of his urchinappeared around it.
"Yes, milord?"
"Bring me a tankard of ale," he growled.
"Is that wise, sir? After the cognac, I mean."
"Danny, I'm warning you . . ." Linton took an infuriated step towardthe door. The tip of a small pink tongue peeped between rosy lips for asecond and she was gone again leaving the earl torn between reluctantamusement and considerable annoyance.
When she returned with the foaming pewter tankard there was nothingabout her demeanor to annoy and Linton, examining
