Sheer exasperation made Gerald release her as he broke into reluctant laughter. ‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. ‘Come, cry a truce.’
There was a pause. Then the lady smiled and her radiance, even in the darkness, warmed Gerald unexpectedly.
‘I said you were sympathique,’ she told him.
‘As a matter of fact, I’m not at all sympathique. I’m a soldier, you see.’ He bowed. ‘Major Gerald Alderley, mademoiselle, quite at your service.’
‘Gérard,’ she said, giving the French version with a soft “g” and not quite managing the “l”. ‘That is a very English name.’
‘I am a very English man,’ Gerald said.
‘And you mean this? Truly?’
‘Entirely.’
‘Idiot. I do not ask if you are entirely English, but if you say truly when you say you are at my service.’
‘Oh, that,’ Gerald said cautiously. ‘Well, that depends.’ He sat on the low wall of the haha and invited her to do the same. ‘You see, it’s difficult to do a service for someone when you don’t know who they are, or what they’re up to. Tell me. Who were you looking for tonight? One of the émigrés? There were several in there.’
‘Assuredly there are many escaping from France at this time.’
Was there a careful note in her voice? Gerald gave no sign, keeping his own tone light.
‘Like you?’
‘But I am not French. I have told you. I am—’
‘Like me, entirely English. Yes, I think we have thoroughly thrashed that one out.’
‘Who were they?’ she asked abruptly.
‘Who, the émigrés?’
‘Do I speak of the English, imbecile? Certainly the émigrés.’
Gerald tutted. ‘Don’t lose your temper again. Let me see now.’ He scratched his chin as if he thought about it, but covertly kept a careful study of what he could see of her face. ‘There were the Comte and Comtesse de St Erme. A Madame Valade and her husband. And two other ladies. I forget. Ah, Thierry and Poussaint, if my memory serves me.’
She had given nothing away. Now what? There was an interest, or why ask him who they were. He added, ‘Also others, but I don’t recall them.’
‘Eh bien.’ She shrugged. ‘Me also I do not recall them.’
‘Indeed?’ said Gerald, surprised. ‘None of them means anything to you at all? How odd. I was ready to wager that your name would have marched with one of them.’
‘Comment?’ she demanded with some heat. ‘You think I am like that Valade? No, a thousand times.’
At last. But Gerald kept to a casual note. ‘Did I say so? When last heard from you were claiming some good English name. Brown or Jones, I dare say.’
A laugh escaped her. ‘Certainly those are names of the most undistinguished, and I would scorn to have them.’
‘What name would you like, then?’
Her shadowed features turned in his direction. ‘I am not a fool. You wish another name? Eh bien. Lee-o-no-ra.’
‘I thank you,’ Gerald said drily. ‘And I suppose I shall be obliged to endure another nonsensical tale about your husband.’
‘What husband?’
‘Precisely.’
The lady sighed and spread her hands. Here we go, thought Gerald.
‘You see, it is that my papa, he is without sympathy,’ said the lady sadly.
‘Indeed?’ Gerald said politely.
‘Yes, like you,’ she snapped, with a venomous glance, her role evidently forgotten for the moment.
‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile. ‘I am fascinated.’
She bit her lip, and then turning her face away, emitted another sigh. ‘My papa he does not wish me to marry the man I choose, and thus he places me in the convent that the nuns may lock me up and I cannot escape.’
‘As we see.’
‘Yes, but they did do so.’
‘But you managed to escape nevertheless,’ Gerald said calmly, ‘disguising yourself as a nun. And who is the man you are not allowed to marry? Valade, perhaps?’
‘Dieu du ciel,’ exclaimed the girl, jumping up. ‘That—that—why do you speak of him?’
