Lucy blushed from toes to forehead, feeling her pace accelerate. ‘And that Suzanne, the sister of my cousin the vicomte, must choose between Monsieur Charvill and her brother. “My husband!” she laughed a little derisively. ” She laid her fingers upon his arm, and they both stood still. All the initial confidence in herself was gone; her courage was merely a shell to hide the lack. They sat down at the dining room table which seemed empty and 259 huge in the stark, white-walled room. ‘Unless he is himself a man of substance. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. You yourself supplied the details. But some little distance behind him, someone had come out from the shadow of the building and, seeing the Frenchman reappear, darted back again as quickly.
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