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enough!”
    Roberta smiled her apologies at the young man. As he hadn’t understood a word, for Sir Nicholas had spoken in English, he returned her smile warmly. “You have seen no one of that description?” he asked.
    Roberta shook her head. “As you can see, we only have two men in our party. Williams, the coachman, and Papa, who suffers terribly from gout.”
    “Whither are you bound, mademoiselle?” he asked.
    “Calais. We are returning to England after spending the past six months in Switzerland.” She put her hand to her chest and coughed slightly. “I have been there for treatment.”
    A command from behind the soldier caused him to stiffen, and with obvious reluctance, he started to shut the door. “I hope you are fully recovered, mademoiselle,” he said, then slammed the door and galloped away.
    “Really, Roberta,” Mrs. Ashley said, “I’m appalled by your behavior. I would never have believed you were capable of conducting yourself so wantonly.” Her anger had seemingly chased away her previous fears.
    “But Ashley,” Roberta protested, trying hard not to laugh, “I was only trying to keep the young man’s attention from Sir Nicholas. I would never dream of behaving so flirtatiously in London.”
    Mrs. Ashley subsided into her corner and sighed. “I just hope Lord Bromley will understand and forgive me for being so gullible. I can’t imagine why I let you get embroiled in this farrago. There’s no saying where it will end.”
    “In England, Mrs. Ashley,” Sir Nicholas replied humorously, in an attempt to ease her distress. “That is, if my gout doesn’t flare up again.”
    “I can see I am wasting my time,” Mrs. Ashley snapped. “It is apparent that neither of you, Sir Nicholas, nor you, Roberta, are in the mood to acknowledge that every minute we spend on French soil is a dangerous one.” She sniffed loudly and resumed her tatting. The only indication of her extreme displeasure was the speed with which her fingers plied the shuttle.
    Roberta and Sir Nicholas exchanged bemused glances. “Tell me, Sir Nicholas,” Roberta said after a suitable pause, “what are you really escaping from?”
    “The comte’s anger,” he replied, suppressing a yawn with difficulty. “He is known to have an ungovernable temper.”
    “I find that hard to accept. I don’t believe an affair of the heart would cause such a pother.” She eyed him skeptically. “There must be something more than you’re telling.”
    “And what do you know of such affairs?” Sir Nicholas quizzed in a jocular fashion. “Nothing, I’m sure. A genteel lady would have been sheltered from such knowledge.” He spoke softly, and his voice only just carried to Roberta over the noise of the wheels.
    “Good heavens, Sir Nicholas!” Roberta exclaimed impatiently. “I’m not a maiden just out of the schoolroom. I have seen more Seasons than I care to admit, and am fully cognizant of the affairs that most of my married friends indulge in.”
    “Then you must also be aware that when one’s family honor has been besmirched, a man will go to great lengths to avenge it. Such is the case with the comte.”
    “Now I really do not comprehend why you are running away. I always understood such matters were settled by a duel.”
    “But the scandal, Miss Rushforth!” Sir Nicholas said in horrified tones. “If I killed the comte, as I surely would be forced to, I doubt I would ever get out of France. He is a man with enormous power in his country, even if he is not well liked. No, Miss Rushforth, ’tis the idea of being forced to languish in a French jail that is causing me to flee now.”
    Roberta leaned back and sighed. It seemed pointless, trying to prise the truth out of him. If he wanted to be thought a coward, that was his affair. She stole a glance at his profile and was annoyed to see that he was smiling at her.
    “Really, Sir Nicholas, you are displaying an offending lack of concern over your present predicament. I