“They’re all asleep,” she informed him.
He swallowed. “Good. You should get what sleep you can as well. We’ll need to start out at first light. I’ll keep watch until then.”
“No.”
He blinked, then looked at her.
“I have a better idea.” She put determination behind her words. “You go upstairs and stretch out on the bed in the room our hosts have prepared. Meanwhile, I’ll keep watch, and I’ll wake you if any of our pursuers turn up. Given the situation and that they can’t fly, even you must acknowledge that it’s virtually impossible for them to arrive here within the next ten hours.”
They’d endured a stressful, constantly demanding day, and then he’d driven a coach-and-four over mountainous roads—at night. The concentration that must have required would have drained him even more. Little wonder that on arriving there, he’d been all but swaying on his feet.
When he opened his mouth, no doubt on a protest, she stated, “If you’re to take advantage of the smoother road from here to Nice and drive us there with all possible speed, then there’s no sense in you being the one staying up to watch for a pursuit that’s unlikely to appear. To serve our mutual interests best, when tomorrow dawns, it’s you who needs to be well rested, not me.”
He frowned, then swallowed the last of the bread and cheese and said, “We can’t afford to waste ten hours.”
“We won’t.” She waved him to his feet, and almost like a puppet, he obediently rose; he really had to be worn to the bone. She took his arm and steered him toward the stairs. “You go up and sleep. I’ll keep watch, and I promise to wake you at the appropriate time.”
Although frowning faintly, he seemed to accept that and, with a nod of reluctant acquiescence, gripped the banister and started up the stairs.
“They told me they’ve given you your usual room,” she said, and he nodded wearily again.
She let him go, but remained at the bottom of the stairs, watching him climb to the corridor above.
He vanished into the shadows, then she heard a door softly shut.
She turned and surveyed the room, then crossed to a comfortable armchair by the hearth. As she sank onto the cushions, she inwardly shook her head. That he’d accepted without quibble her promise to wake him “at the appropriate time” was incontrovertible proof that he was, indeed, worn to the bone.
* * *
Toby woke feeling surprisingly refreshed.He stretched, then glanced at the curtained window and realized that, outside, the sun was shining brightly.
“Damn!” He swung his legs from beneath the covers, sat up, and ran his hands over his face.
Diana had promised to wake him…at the appropriate time.
Lowering his hands, he stared across the room. “Huh.” She’d tricked him.
Unsure how he felt about that, he pushed the point aside, rose, and went to the washstand.
By the time he was heading downstairs, his repacked bags in his hands, he was ready to admit that he was in much better case to face the long drive to Marseille.
He saw the rest of his family gathered about a well-stocked breakfast table. He set his bags with the others piled by the door and went to join them.
The children hailed him with bright smiles. Helga, too, smiled and nodded, and Bruno came to greet him and lick his hand before returning to his spot beneath the table.
For her part, Diana regarded him assessingly. “Good morning.”
He slid onto the bench beside her and returned the greeting with a nod and a noncommittal sound. He piled his plate with the sausages and ham that were always excellent in that region, then under cover of the children’s chatter, complained, “I wanted to leave at first light.”
She turned her head, caught his gaze, and narrowed her eyes ominously. “The boys and I walked out earlier and saw the road you intend to take—the corniche, as they call it. Consider me appropriately horrified that you even imagined driving a coach-and-four along that road, at pace, in anything less than broad daylight.”
Her tone had risen enough to make him wary—enough to make him think.
The notion that she might be justified in taking him to task for what, in truth, would have been reckless behavior forced him to swallow his instinctive retort.
When he didn’t say anything, she glared at him, then looked away.
Battling unexpected amusement, after a moment, he murmured, “You remind me of my sister Pru.”
