She opened wide eyes. ‘But it is entirely natural that I choose my own country.’
Footsteps sounded just outside, and Captain Roding walked in. The major hailed him with a show of relief.
‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword.’ He moved to his friend and grasped his hand in a gesture as deliberately dramatic as the storytelling of mademoiselle. ‘If you care for me at all, shoot me. Or run me through. I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales.’
‘Dieu du ciel,’ came from the lady in a furious tone, before the astonished Roding could respond. ‘This is insupportable. There is no need of your friend to kill you, imbecile, because I shall do so this minute.’
Leaning down, she raised the hem of the petticoat of her habit to reveal a neat little pair of boots on her feet. Gerald saw her extract something and leapt aside, calling a warning to Hilary.
There was just time for the girl to raise her arm to chest height and draw it back before Roding seized her. The slim knife was wrested from her grasp, and she was flung backwards, towards the bookcases. She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so.
‘Oh, Lord,’ muttered Gerald, going instantly to her aid.
Furiously, she dashed his hands away. ‘Bête. I will arise myself.’
Ignoring this, the major slipped his hands about her waist and lifted her to her feet.
‘What the devil do you think you’re doing?’ protested Hilary angrily. ‘You should rather be arresting the girl and throwing her into gaol for attempted murder.’
‘For God’s sake, don’t accuse her of murder,’ begged Gerald, retrieving the lady’s hat and handing it to her, ‘or she’ll be challenging me to a duel again.’
‘You,’ announced the lady, throwing an explosive glare at the captain, ‘are a person entirely without sense. Certainly I would not murder monsieur le major, even that he has made a threat to beat me.’
‘I like that,’ Gerald protested. ‘After all the threats you’ve made, that is hardly fair.’
‘I’m hanged if I can make out either of you,’ complained Hilary. ‘Mad as hatters!’
‘It is you who is mad,’ mademoiselle told him crossly. ‘Gérard is not mad, only of a disposition entirely interfering.’
‘And you are of a disposition entirely untruthful,’ retorted Gerald. ‘Have you any more pretty toys like that knife about you?’
‘The girl’s a regular arsenal,’ Hilary snapped, giving up into his senior’s hand the nasty little weapon he had snatched.
‘It is necessary that one is at all times ready to protect oneself,’ explained the young lady flatly. ‘So Leonardo has taught me.’
‘Leonardo?’ An abrupt sensation of severe irritation attacked Gerald.
‘Who the devil is Leonardo?’ demanded Roding impatiently, asking the question that had leapt into the major’s mind.
‘Oh, peste,’ she cried out in distressed tones. ‘You make me talk, you make me talk. Diable.’
Then she jammed her hat on her head all anyhow and ran from the room.
Hilary started after her, but Gerald stopped him.
‘Let her go. Did you warn Frith?’
‘Yes. He’s waiting.’
‘Good. When he’s found out where she’s staying, I’ll have him keep an eye on Valade’s residence in Paddington, I think.’ Then memory hit and he stared at his friend. ‘And just who is Leonardo?’
‘How in God’s name should I know?’ demanded Roding irascibly.
‘He can’t be Valade, that’s certain,’ mused Gerald, unheeding. ‘She obviously likes Leonardo. Which means after all that she did not expect to marry Valade. But in that case, why the raging jealousy about Madame having taken her place. Unless—’ Something clicked in his mind and he stared at his friend without seeing him. ‘Lord in heaven, could it be so?’
‘Don’t look at me,’ exploded Hilary. ‘I don’t know what the devil you’re talking about.’
Gerald ignored this. ‘She knows them. Both of them. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it.’ He became aware of his friend’s face before him. ‘What do you think?’
‘What do I think?’ repeated Captain Roding. ‘I think you’ve gone stark, staring crazy. Why can’t you let it be?’
Gerald grinned at him. ‘What, and miss getting myself murdered?’
‘She said she wouldn’t murder you.’
‘Don’t you believe it. She’d have thrown this thing if you hadn’t stopped her. My thanks, by the by.’
The captain shook his head. ‘I just don’t understand you, Gerald. If you know her for the vicious, scheming wretch that she is, why in God’s name—?’
‘She’s not a vicious, scheming wretch,’ Gerald said calmly. ‘She’s an evil-tempered little termagant, yes, but there’s no malice aforethought. And she’s pluck to the backbone.’
Hilary stared at him. ‘You’re either mad, or in love.’
‘What?’ gasped Alderley in shock. ‘In love? I? Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Then you’re mad,’ Roding said flatly, and suddenly grinned. ‘But I’ve known that for years.’
Gerald laughed and clapped him on the back. ‘Lucky I have you to keep me from Bedlam, then.’
