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“Four new horses-- quatre nouveaux chevaux! I must go and interpret for him.”
    “Nay, child, let the men work it out for themselves, God willing. They’re fools, to be sure, but best indulge them unless they’re in such a pickle they can’t find their own way out.”
    In fact, Isaac had joined Felix and in his painstaking, accented French was instructing the ostler to provide a fresh team. Felix was obviously disgruntled by his intervention, especially when it proved successful.
    The man nodded and said wisely, “Ah, you’ll be foreigners, without doubt.”
    “Swiss,” Isaac confirmed.
    “But why did monsieur expect me to understand German?” He shrugged and, not waiting for an answer, turned away to call another ostler to help.
    Miriam could tell that Isaac was trying to suppress a grin. Hoping to preserve the peace she stepped forward, too late.
    Isaac’s grin escaped. “The fellow thought you were speaking German.”
    Felix cast him a furious glance and stalked off to watch the change of horses.
    Chuckling, Miriam tugged Hannah round behind the carriage. “What a set-down for his lordship! But oh dear, how are we going to manage with one member of our party speaking schoolboy French, another who might as well not speak it at all, and the two of them at daggers drawn?”
    “It’s all in God’s hands, Miss Miriam. If he wills it, all will go well.”
    “We could wait for the next diligence to take us back to Paris. I wish I had refused Herr Rothschild as soon as I heard his proposal. Once I had agreed, he made it impossible to change my mind.”
    “It’s too late now. There’s the whole British army waiting for their pay.”
    “And goodness knows what sort of bumble-broth those two would fall into without me. At least I can attempt to stop them slitting each other’s throats,” she said, resigned. “We’d better go back and see how they are getting on.”
    Isaac had disappeared. Felix, seething with frustration, had taken off his gloves and was feeling the foreleg of one of the horses the ostler had led out. He saw Miriam and hurried across to her.
    “That horse is throwing out a splint. Tell them he’ll be lame in a mile or two.” The peremptory order made her look at him askance. “Please,” he added grudgingly.
    She obliged. After some argument, the ostler took the horse back into the stables. “There isn’t much to choose from,” Miriam explained. “The army takes all the best horses.”
    “I daresay he’ll find something quick enough if you give him this.” He took a coin from his coat pocket and handed it to her.
    “An écu d’or! That is far too much.”
    His nostrils flared in disdain. “We’ll never reach Wellington if you mean to haggle like a Jew over ha’pennies.”
    “We’ll never reach Wellington if you mean to cause talk and raise suspicions by flinging gold about,” she pointed out coldly.
    He had the grace to look abashed. “How much?”
    “Five sous will be plenty.” Noting the strength of his square, well-kept hand, she selected a coin from the handful of change he held out to her and turned to follow the ostler.
    “I’ll come and pick the one I want,” he said, falling into step beside her.
    Miriam was annoyed to find herself very much aware of his muscular figure and vigorous stride. Stealing a glance at his handsome, arrogant profile, she wondered what he would look like if he smiled, and whether he ever did. It was the outside of enough to find herself condemned to weeks of intimacy with a Nonpareil who held her in contempt! At least she had already taught him that she was not easily intimidated.
    An acceptable horse chosen, they returned to the carriage. Isaac had obtained some bread and cheese. He was giving a share to Hannah, laughing at something she said. His white teeth gleamed against the healthy glow of his olive skin and his eyes crinkled at the corners in the most attractive way.
    Then he caught sight of Miriam and Felix. His face closed