The Journals of Augustin X Together they left the Earl of Babidge’s house, encountering only the majordomo at the door. Montraine nodded briskly at the man, and he stepped back, deferential in a way he had never been to Margaret. If she had been the butler she would have been quelled by that look. As it was, she found herself fascinated. Montraine walked to the hack, dismissed him with a few words, then returned to her side. Silently emanating from him was an authority more effective than another man’s boast. Without a word, he led her to a gleaming ebony carriage drawn by four matched bays. A footman jumped from the back and opened the door for her. Montraine said nothing as she hesitated, simply stood aside for her to precede him. She mounted the steps and entered the carriage. Montraine settled into the seat in front of her, his back to the horses. The curtains were open, but she didn’t pretend an interest in the scenery. Instead, she met his gaze. “A difficult journey to make with one footstep,”
