His Grace leaned towards her, laying a thin, white hand on her knee.
"My dear, be reasonable. I am not such a bad bargain after all."
The tenderness in his voice filled her with horror. He felt her shrink away.
"Take your hand away!" she commanded throbbingly. "Do not touch me!" He laughed softly and at the sound of it she controlled her terrors and dropped again to the mocking tone she had adopted. "What? Ungallant still, your Grace? Pray keep your distance!"
The pistol holster on the wall at her side caught her attention. Instantly she looked away, hoping he had not observed her. Very little escaped his Grace "I am desolated to have to disappoint you, my dear. It is empty."
She laid a careless hand on the holster, verifying his statement.
"This? Oh, I guessed it, your Grace!"
He admired her spirit more and more. Was there ever such a girl?
"My name is Tracy," he remarked.
She considered it with her head tilted to one side.
"I do not like your name, sir," she answered.
"'There was no thought of pleasing you when I was christened.'" he quoted lazily.
"Hardly, sir," she said. "You might be my father."
It was a master stroke, and for an instant his brows drew together. Then he laughed.
"Merci du compliment, mademoiselle! I admire your wit."
"I protest I am overwhelmed. May I ask when we are like to arrive at our destination?"
"We should reach Andover soon after eight, my dear."
So it was some distance he was taking her?
"I suppose you had the wit to provide food for the journey?" she yawned. "You will not wish to exhibit me at an inn, I take it?"
He marvelled at her indomitable courage "We shall halt at an inn certainly, and my servant will bring you refreshment. That will be in about an hour."
"So long?" she frowned. "Then, pray excuse me an I compose myself to sleep a little. I am like to find the journey somewhat tedious, I fear."
She shifted farther into the corner, leaned her head back against the cushions and closed her eyes.
Thus outwitting his Grace. For it is impossible to be passionate with a girl who feigns sleep when she should be struggling to escape from you. So Tracy, who, whatever else he might lack, possessed a keen sense of humour, settled himself in his corner and followed her example. So they jogged on. . . .
Arrived at length at the inn, the coach pulled up slowly. Diana opened her eyes with a great assumption of sleepiness.
"Already?" she marvelled.
"I trust you have slept well," said his Grace suavely.