He bowed and took in their group. “A family table, yes. For five.” With a brisk movement, he picked up menus, then gestured down the row of longer tables set perpendicular to one side of the car. “If you will come this way.”
He led them to a table nearly halfway along the car.
Diana exchanged a swift glance with Toby, then urged first Bryce, then Evelyn, to sit and scoot along one bench, then Diana sat at the aisle end.
On the opposite side of the table, Toby sent Roland toward the window, then he, too, sat protectively on the aisle end of the bench.
The head waiter looked faintly relieved, no doubt imagining the hazards of small children slipping from a table without parental reins. Briskly, he handed out menus, including to the children, and, in sonorous tones, informed them he would be back to take their orders shortly.
He bowed and withdrew.
Looking around, Diana noted that there were two other families already seated. Their party was in no way remarkable.
She opened her menu, and Evelyn and Bryce copied her, and they settled to decide what they would like to eat.
The children were fascinated with the fittings—the table itself, the lights, the utensils, all of which were subtly different from what they’d previously seen. And when it came, they were intrigued by the food, too, in many cases shaped to reduce rolling and served in plates designed to limit spills.
Diana was both amused by the trio’s many questions and relieved that they were taking to the experience so well. They ate readily, but they’d always had good appetites. Still, she’d feared that they would be more reluctant, more shrinking, and while occasionally, Roland grew quiet—just for a few minutes when, she suspected, the reality of his father not being with them intruded—there’d been no sign of resistance to, much less refusal over, anything they’d been called on to do.
When, ever curious, Bryce asked a waiter how a piece of melon came to be a round ball and the waiter went to the kitchen and brought back the implement used to scoop the melon and demonstrated at the table—to the curious stares of several other children and the amusement of the rest of the staff—Diana glanced at Toby and met his laughing eyes.
She smiled back, then looked at Roland and Evelyn. All three children were relaxed and happy, content in the moment.
Surreptitiously, she glanced again at Toby. She wasn’t surprised that the three trusted her—she was their godmother, and they’d known her for all of their lives—but now, they treated Toby with the same degree of belief, of absolute unquestioning trust.
He’d been careful, she knew, not to overstep. He hadn’t presumed. And he’d won them over.
That told her more about him than about the children she already knew so well.
Toby thanked the obliging waiter and quietly tipped him, and the waiter grinned, bowed, and left, and they settled to consume their chosen desserts.
With hers finished, Diana sat back. All in all, this journey was progressing much more smoothly than she’d expected.
Toby, too, was starting to relax, to allow himself to believe that, at least at this moment, there was no threat, potential or otherwise, looming anywhere close.
From his position opposite Diana, he had an excellent view of Evelyn, who was seated between Diana and Bryce and trying to feed some of her custard to Rupert the Bear.
He thought of describing the scene to Drake. In light of what was inside the stuffed bear, the thought of Drake’s reaction made Toby grin.
He was still grinning when he saw Bryce look up and past him, and a curious, questioning expression bloomed on the boy’s face.
Instantly, Toby straightened and glanced around—just as Heinrik Maier, with a pretty lady in a topaz-colored traveling gown on his arm, halted in the aisle by Toby’s shoulder.
Silently, Toby swore. He felt certain the lady had a coat the same color as her gown and a hat sporting a matching feather.
Tensing, he met Heinrik’s gaze.
Heinrik’s features were set in a pleasant expression. “Tobias. What a surprise to see you here.” Outwardly, he was just a gentleman encountering another gentleman with whom he was acquainted, except for the world-weary cynicism underlying his words.
His own expression impassive, Toby inclined his head. “Likewise, Heinrik. I had thought you engaged elsewhere. St. Petersburg, wasn’t it?”
Heinrik adopted a cast-down air. “Sadly, the Russian court failed to hold my interest.” His gaze had moved from Toby to take in the others at the table, shrewdly noting all he could see.
Toby fought not to clench his jaw. There was nothing he could do in that moment other than bring it to as rapid an end as possible without attracting further attention. He had no way of knowing who else might hear of any altercation.
Before he could think of how to get rid of the man, Heinrik returned his gaze to Toby’s face. “I believe I crossed your trail in Vienna. Our Prussian friends were in something of a state. They raced off west, one can only hope to the arms of their masters. However that may be”—smiling benignly, Heinrik glanced around the table—“I seriously doubt they realized that you were traveling en famille.”
Toby gritted his teeth and glanced at Diana as, with an aristocratic Austrian’s precision, Heinrik bowed to her and the children. Hoping Heinrik was about to leave, Toby bit his tongue and said nothing to detain him.
