She pulled a face, then squeezed his arm and returned to the compartment.
Leaning against the wall in the shadows just inside the door, he continued to scan the last-minute stragglers until the train’s whistle sounded, and the conductor shut the door.
As the train slowly pulled out of the station, Toby straightened, aware of a modicum of relief tempering the escalating alertness that gripped him.
He’d couriered state secrets to London more times than he could recall, and previously, he’d viewed such flights as something akin to a game. But this time…
This time, he had far more at stake, and this flight was no game.
He returned to the compartment and smiled easily as he stepped inside. After shutting the door, he sat on the forward-facing bench seat opposite Diana. From that position, he would see anyone coming along the corridor, more or less in the first instant that they would see him. That gave him the best chance to react quickly and defend against any attack.
The children were ensconced by the window, peering out and exclaiming.
Helga was sitting on the opposite seat between Evelyn and Diana, and Bruno was stretched on the floor beneath the boys’ feet.
Keeping his expression relaxed, Toby tried to live up to it, with no great success. All he’d told Diana was true, and the chance of their pursuers stumbling over them was, indeed, very slight, yet he hadn’t run successful missions for nearly twenty years without developing very finely honed instincts and an active sense of when Fate—fickle female that she was—was about to turn on him.
“Papa!” Evelyn left the window and came to wriggle onto the seat beside him. She held up Rupert the Bear. “Rupert wants to know where in England we’re going and what it’s like there.”
The questions drew the boys’ attention as well, and Toby found himself trying to describe the Hampshire countryside to children who had no real idea of what the New Forest was or of the vagaries of English weather.
As long as fishing was possible, the boys, at least, were content.
Smiling at Toby’s efforts, Diana hoped the demands on his inventiveness would help ease the tension she sensed in him. She could understand; this was the crucial final leg of their journey, and they weren’t yet free of pending threats. And, of course, that she and the children had come to mean so much more to him than he’d expected had only added to the weight of responsibility that, doubtless, he felt.
While he entertained the children, she cast about for what she could do to ease his burden, and when his imagination regarding their great-aunt’s house ran out, she stepped in to lead the children in a rehearsal of how they would manage when they reached Novara and had to change trains.
* * *
Toby remainedon edge throughout the half hour it took to change trains at Novara and counted himself lucky that the main-line train that would take them to Cuneo had already been waiting at the next platform. Consequently, transferring his little family, luggage and all, to the compartment they would inhabit for the rest of the day had been accomplished without any dallying on the platform, exposed to the eyes of the world.
Once again, he’d managed to secure the last compartment in the rearmost carriage. He always felt more comfortable knowing that the escape route at the rear of the train was available to him and his charges. He maintained his watch for any hint of pursuit until, with a sharp whistle, the train pulled out of the station, then he returned to the compartment and endeavored to deploy a relaxed, easygoing façade for the children.
He was grateful that Diana had had the forethought to request a luncheon hamper from the hotel at Arona. Shortly after they got underway, she suggested they broach it, and the children fell to with alacrity.
Soon, they were munching, and peace and quiet reigned.
As he’d hoped, the food made the children drowsy, and they curled up on the seats and, lulled by the rhythmic rocking of the train, slept.
Diana and Helga seized the chance and closed their eyes, too.
Initially, Toby refrained, but as the train rocked on, his lids grew heavier. Eventually, after reminding himself that there was no one they needed to fear on the train, he allowed his eyes to close.
The train slowed. He opened his eyes and realized they were drawing into Torino station—just as the boys opened the compartment door and rushed out into the corridor. Evelyn, as always clutching Rupert the Bear, followed on their heels.
Toby blinked, then leapt up from the seat and went after them.
He was relieved to see them lined up along the window, gazing out at the houses and gardens sliding past. The tightness in his chest eased, and he cleared his throat of a lump that felt awfully like fear and waited until he saw the station approaching to gather the three and herd them back into the compartment. When they looked as if they were considering a protest, he warned, “We don’t know who might be on the platform, watching.”
Comprehension lit their eyes—even Evelyn’s—and they resumed their seats without arguing. Even though said seats were beside the window on the other side of the carriage, as the train slowed and halted, the children remained seated and merely stared through the glass. As that side of the tracks was bordered by deserted fields, the concern that had gripped Toby faded further.
Seconds later, Bryce suggested a game using a pack of cards they’d brought along, and the three settled to play.
After exchanging a relieved look with Diana, Toby rose and left the compartment. He closed the door firmly behind him, then walked to the end of the corridor and claimed a position that allowed him a good view of the platform through the now-open carriage door while leaving him largely invisible to those outside.
The rush of passengers leaving the train gradually slowed, then the tide reversed as passengers waiting to join the train were allowed to board. Toby studied the crowd streaming out of the waiting room and also those coming directly onto the platform, but saw no one he would rather not.
The stream of incoming passengers slowed to a trickle, then ceased altogether. This was the last halt before Cuneo, and when the stationmaster and his helpers started to close the platform’s gates, Toby felt relief slide through him.
