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Marie-Jeanne shifted from one
foot to the next. "May I be excused, Madam. For a moment only.
Nature calls."
    Diana stared at the maid a moment before she
realized the girl needed to visit the privy. She could not blame
Marie-Jeanne. Her own insides had almost gone liquid. Her aunt
nodded to the maid, and said in her poor French, "Hurry back."
    After one frightened glance at the soldiers,
Marie-Jeanne put her head down and lifted her skirt to pick a path
around the nearest house and to whatever facilities might exist
behind it.
    To maintain the pretense that her aunt was
ill, Diana made a show of helping her into the coach. After seeing
her chemise and her aunt's jewel case repacked, she got into the
coach herself. With the driver back in his seat, the luggage
strapped to the roof again, and the footmen both shifting nervously
beside the door, Diana called out, "Marie-Jeanne?"
    The soldiers seemed to have lost interest in
them, for they sauntered away, taking the torchlight with them. The
night seemed darker. Moonlight crept out only to vanish again;
clouds parted and thickened, pushed by the sharp wind.
    Diana started to call the girl's name again,
but she heard hurrying footsteps and the flap of skirts. The moon
slipped out from the clouds again and Diana glimpsed the maid, the
hood of her cloak pulled up and her skirts fluttering as she strode
towards the coach.
    The maid struggled for a moment with her
skirts and the step, but she flung herself inside the coach and
huddled into a dark corner. Hurrying, the footman put up the steps
and shut the door. The driver cracked his whip and the carriage
lurched forward, the team having to drag the wheels loose from the
mud.
    "What took you so long?" Diana asked.
    Marie-Jeanne gave no answer, but only
pressed herself further into the corner of the coach.
    Suddenly uneasy, Diana stared at the
maid.
    Her aunt's voice, calm as ever, drew Diana's
attention from the maid. "I pray that is as close a call as we have
for the rest of this trip. But since you mentioned Calais, I think
we will do better now to make for Boulogne—just in case that
captain changes his mind about us. The trick now will be to find a
change of horses."
    Between the mud and the tired horses, it
took them two hours to cover the next ten miles. They found an inn
willing to open and offer them food and a fresh team for hire. The
candles in the lanterns set either side of the carriage doors had
burnt out, and Alexandria decided not to replace them. Somehow it
seemed better to draw the least notice possible.
    Diana tried to coax
Marie-Jeanne from the coach to eat with them, but the maid only
shook her head and shrank back into the inky corner. Poor girl—she must still be fretting over the
soldiers , Alexandria decided, and let her
be.
    Twenty minutes later they stepped back into
the coach, having eaten quickly and with fresh horses in harness.
Marie-Jeanne seemed to be asleep, but Diana leaned forward,
offering a slice of lamb on bread. "Marie-Jeanne, I brought you
something to eat."
    The maid said nothing.
    "Leave her to sleep," Alexandria urged.
    "Oh, but she must be hungry." Leaning
forward, Diana took hold of the maid's leg to wake her. She pulled
back at once, dropping the lamb. "You're not Marie-Jeanne!"
    A low purr of a masculine voice answered in
flawless English, "No, I am not. But I do have a gun pointed at
you, so I advise you not to do anything foolish."
     

CHAPTER FOUR
    Alexandria stared at the shadowy figure
across from her, shock cold on her skin. Fatigue blunted her
thoughts and her feelings, but not so much that she could not
recognize that voice. Her pulse quickened and her throat dried.
Impossible that it should be him, appearing as if summoned by her
earlier thoughts.
    And yet...excitement shimmered. Could it be?
Oh, to see him again, after so long.
    She straightened and scolded herself for her
heart leaping ahead of her.
    Still, she narrowed her eyes, trying to make
out his features, trying to be