‘Yes, but I’m afraid I am far too interested to stop mixing myself in your affairs,’ Gerald said ruefully. ‘I’m determined to find out all about you, mademoiselle. If I am to die in the attempt, then so be it.’
‘Dieu du ciel,’ burst from mademoiselle as she jumped up. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’
‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. ‘Perhaps I could indeed rescue you if only you would confide in me.’
The girl shook her head violently, setting the feathers on her hat bobbing. ‘It is not possible.’
‘That we shall see. Why were you following Valade?’
She shrugged and turned away, moving as if to seek escape among the bookshelves all about one corner of the room. ‘I do not know of whom you speak. As to following, there was no one.’
‘Don’t be a little fool,’ Gerald snapped irritably.
‘It is you who is the fool,’ she threw at him, whipping round again. ‘I have said that I will tell you nothing of this soi-disant Valade.’
Gerald seized on this. ‘Soi-disant? Then he is not Valade?’
‘How can I know?’ she countered crossly. ‘I do not know him.’
‘I am not the imbecile you take me for,’ Gerald said with dangerous calm. ‘If you will not tell me about Valade, so be it. What of madame, his wife?’
‘You know more of her than me,’ the girl said with a look of scorn. ‘His wife? Pah!’
‘You’re saying she is not his wife?’
‘I am saying nothing.’
Gerald eyed her. She knew the truth of it all right. ‘Word has it that she is English on her father’s side.’
‘The word of whom?’ came scoffingly from the pretty lips.
‘Her own,’ Gerald replied.
‘Exactement.’
‘Damnation!’ Gerald burst out, crossing towards her. ‘Will you stop hedging? I’m hanged if I go on with this ridiculous cat and mouse game. Give me your name, girl!’
‘Again?’ Mademoiselle rolled her eyes. ‘Eh bien, Eugénie. Or I should say—’
‘Eugenia,’ cut in Gerald grimly. ‘I thank you. I daresay that is one of the names of the nuns in your convent.’
‘The nuns?’ she said, gazing at him innocently. ‘Certainly, if I was a nun, I know of many good names.’ She counted off on her fingers. ‘There is Bernadette, Marie-Thérèse, Marie-Joséphine, Marie-Claire, Henriette—’
Exasperated, Gerald seized her by the shoulders. ‘I don’t want a list of all the nuns resident in your wretched convent. I am aware that you ran away from there, but—’
‘Certainly I ran away,’ she said, meeting his gaze with defiance in her own. ‘And if you like, I will tell you why.’
For the space of half a minute, Gerald continued to scowl in silent frustration. But the sheer tenacity of the girl defeated him. He laughed suddenly, and released her.
‘You had better kill me, mademoiselle, because otherwise I shall end by strangling you.’
‘Comment? You wish to murder me?’
‘No, I wish to beat you,’ he retorted. ‘In fact, I’ve never met anyone who goaded me to so much violence.’
The girl nodded understandingly. ‘Yes, that is what the nuns they said of me.’
‘You surprise me.’ Relaxing back, Gerald folded his arms. ‘Very well, then. Tell me why you ran away from the convent.’
‘So would you run away,’ she uttered impulsively. ‘I do not mind to pray, no. Even, I do not mind to study this Latin so abominable. But this is not sufficient. In a convent, you understand, one is like a servant, even if one is a lady.’
‘How shocking.’
‘Yes, but I do not like to scrub the floor and peel the vegetables and feed the pig. So it is that I do not do these things. But I must, they say, and try to make me with the punishments.’
‘Poor little devil,’ said Gerald, genuinely sorry for her.
A radiant smile astonished him. ‘As to that, I am a devil, say the nuns. Because for the punishments je m’en moque.’
‘You didn’t care. Yes, I can readily believe it.’
‘In one little minute,’ she said, snapping her fingers, ‘it is over and voilà tout.’
‘Forgive me, but if that is the case, I don’t quite see why you should run away.’
‘Ah, that was an affair altogether different,’ she explained and fluttered her long lashes at him. The by now familiar dramatic sigh came. ‘There was a priest, the father confessor, you understand. He tried to make love to me. Oh, it was very bad.’ She spread her hands. ‘What would you? The nuns they would not believe me, and so it was not possible for me to stay. I was compelled to run away.’
‘All the way to England?’
