The Temptation of Torilla by Barbara Cartland Read Free Book Online Page A

first a basket in which remained a few of the day old chicks she was doubtless taking to market.
    As she reached the ground, she declared stridently,
    “’Tis a disgrace the way these coachmen drive! Sommat should be done about it – that it should!”
    “I agree with you, ma’am,” the Marquis said.
    Then, as the woman went on worrying about her chickens, he turned his attention to an elderly gentleman who, quivering with anger as he was assisted from the coach, was swearing that every bone in his body was broken.
    He was followed by three more men, then last of all the Marquis saw a little oval face with two large frightened eyes framed by a somewhat battered bonnet.
    Torilla stepped out so lightly that she hardly touched the hands of the two men who were only too anxious to help her. Then, as she reached the road, she looked up and saw the Marquis.
    Her eyes widened and the colour rose in her pale cheeks as he swept his high-crowned hat from his head, saying,
    “We meet again, Miss Clifford!”
    It seemed as if she had no words to answer him and after looking at her beneath lazy eyelids he returned to the task of sorting out the accident.
    The horses in the chaise were now under control and in a somewhat peremptory manner he told the middle-aged owner of them to be on his way.
    “I intend to sue the company for the damage that has been done to my vehicle,” the gentleman grunted angrily.
    “I doubt if you will receive any compensation,” the Marquis replied. “But you can always try.”
    “The driver is drunk – that is perfectly obvious,” the gentleman averred.
    “They invariably are,” the Marquis answered and walked away, obviously bored with the subject.
    Now that one side of the road was clear, the Marquis could proceed on his way. But first he set the men who had been on the coach to work pushing and pulling the unwieldy vehicle back onto the highway.
    “Drive more carefully in future,” the Marquis ordered the coachman.
    The man was crimson in the face and there was some truth in the accusation that, even if he was not drunk, he had certainly imbibed more freely than was wise.
    To mitigate the severity of his words, the Marquis gave the driver a guinea and he was instantly all smiles and pleasantries.
    The coach was righted, most of the chickens had been collected and returned to their coop, the sheep still bleating plaintively was placed the right way up on the roof and the passengers began to take their places.
    The Marquis walked to where Torilla was standing a little apart from the others.
    “Do you know where you are staying tonight?” he asked.
    “At an inn called The George and Dragon,” she replied.
    “Then I will take you there, for it is where I am bound myself,” the Marquis offered.
    She looked away from him towards the coach, then back again.
    “I – would like that – but – ”
    “There are no ‘buts’,” the Marquis interrupted. “My groom is a very effective chaperone and you will be there quicker and far more comfortably than if you wait for old grumble-boots!”
    She smiled and would have bent down to pick up her valise, which she had beside her on the grass verge.
    “Leave it,” the Marquis ordered.
    He helped her into the phaeton and went round the other side where Jim jumped down to hand him the reins.
    The groom picked up the valise and climbed onto the seat behind the hood and then they were off, driving smoothly with a speed that soon left the scene of the accident far behind.
    The Marquis did not speak and after they had driven a little way Torilla glanced at him from under her eyelashes.
    He was not only very impressive, she thought, but very handsome. At the same time he was rather frightening.
    Perhaps it was the proud manner in which he held his head and the expression on his face that was almost disdainful, as if everything and everybody was beneath him.
    His features were classical but there were lines running from his nose to the side of his mouth