‘You like Simon, don’t you?’ Jane said perceptively. ‘Regardless of what you have said, I do believe…’

Thérèse looked away. She was silent for a moment. ‘Perhaps if things had been different…Yes-’ suddenly she pushed the dress away from her and stood up ‘-when I met him I thought-there is a man…’ there was a smile in her eyes ‘…and truly, I was tempted for the first time ever, but…’

‘But Simon does not want you to be his mistress!’ Jane objected. ‘He would never insult you so! He wants to marry you!’

‘Even worse!’ Thérèse said briskly. ‘Can you imagine people asking your mother about her daughter-in-law and she being obliged to say that it is the girl who made her dresses?’

‘Our family does not care about such things!’ Jane said staunchly.

Thérèse suddenly looked very tired. ‘Everybody cares about such things, Jane! But there is worse! You have seen Samways-can you imagine him coming to Portman Square and blackmailing me with threats to tell the ton how I paid him to stay out of his whorehouses…What a delicious scandal that would be! Now, would you like to share my luncheon? It is only bread and cheese, but the cheese is French!’

Chapter Fourteen

The afternoon dragged by. Shortly after lunch, a man brought some medicines for the Vicomtesse de Beaurain, and she roused herself sufficiently to take a spoonful at Thérèse’s coaxing.

‘What is the matter with her?’ Jane whispered softly, as Thérèse returned to the sewing-table. She did not wish to pry, but there was something unbearably touching about the patient devotion with which the daughter nursed her sick mother.

‘She has a weak chest and is forever suffering inflammation of the lungs,’ Thérèse said. ‘She needs to go to a hot climate, or to a spa, perhaps, to cure her.’ For a moment the tears shone in her eyes, then she blinked them back. ‘Now come! I need to finish this dress so that I may pay Samways!’

They talked some more. Thérèse spoke about her experiences as a governess and Jane told Thérèse about her childhood at Ambergate, managing to talk quite a lot about Simon in the process.

‘It sounds a delightful place to live,’ Thérèse said dreamily, when Jane had finished describing the rolling Wiltshire hills and lush fields. ‘But I suppose that all young ladies must come to London to make a suitable match. Are you betrothed yet, Jane? It would seem very likely!’

Jane blushed. She had managed to avoid speaking of Alex and even succeeded in not thinking about him for at least five minutes at a time.

‘No! Yes, that is, I suppose I am, in a manner of speaking…’

‘Tiens!’ Thérèse said, amused. ‘Are you or are you not, Jane? You do not seem certain!’

‘Well…’ suddenly Jane felt like confiding. ‘There is a gentleman who made an arrangement with my father that I should become betrothed to his brother.’

Thérèse nodded. ‘That I can understand. That also is the way of the world! And then?’

‘I did not wish to marry the brother,’ Jane said, ‘and then he fell in love with my dearest friend.’

‘And what happened about the arranged match?’

Jane blushed again. ‘Well, the gentleman-he is a Duke-wishes me to marry him now instead of his brother, in order to preserve the family alliance. It was not a good enough reason to persuade me. Unfortunately yesterday we became…in short, I appear to be compromised and will have to agree.’

It sounded quite extraordinary when described in those bald terms and indeed Thérèse was staring at her in the greatest astonishment.

‘Mon Dieu, Jane, do not tell me half the story! Who is this Duke, and what is he like, and how on earth did so innocent a girl as you become compromised?’

Jane could feel herself blushing all the more. ‘The gentleman is the Duke of Delahaye. He is-oh, how can I describe him? He is accustomed to people falling in with his plans and was not at all pleased when I opposed them! He is handsome but seems a little grave until one gets to know him, and he has a reputation as a recluse, which some consider to be most odd! But I think-’

Jane broke off, aware that she was smiling and that she had given herself away entirely.

‘So you are in love with him,’ Thérèse said shrewdly, ‘in which case why did you refuse his proposal?’

Jane hesitated. ‘Why do you refuse to see Simon?’ she countered. ‘The reasons are not always simple, are they, Thérèse?’

Their eyes held for a moment, then the older girl smiled and shrugged a little. ‘I like you, Jane Verey! I should not, but I do! Mon Dieu, why must the Vereys make things so much more difficult for me?’

Jane was glad to turn the subject away from herself. She knew that she had given herself away too easily. It did not matter that Thérèse suspected that she was in love with Alex, but at all costs she had to guard against him finding out the truth. It would be too demeaning, when his affections still lay with his dead wife. With a little pang of apprehension, Jane realised that she would have to face Alex at some point and explain why she had disregarded his warnings to avoid Spitalfields. It was a nerve-racking thought.

‘We saw you with Samways at Vauxhall Gardens,’ Jane said suddenly, her thoughts of Alex bringing her back to the man who had threatened him there. ‘Surely you did not go there with him, Thérèse?’

Thérèse laughed. ‘No Jane, you may acquit me of complaisance in Samways’s dirty schemes! I had gone to Vauxhall on my own-I was playing truant again, I confess! Samways caught up with me there and tried to persuade me to join him in a spot of enterprise. He was engaged in lifting plump purses from unsuspecting victims and wished to pass them on to me for safe-keeping! I gave him the rightabout and saw no more of him!’

Jane hesitated on the edge of telling Thérèse about Samways’s attack on Alex, but held her peace. For all the older girl’s worldliness and air of cynicism, Jane suspected that she would be shocked. It was not comforting, however, to think that she was in the power of a man who was so ruthless. Jane hoped profoundly that Simon would pay what was demanded and that she would be home within a few hours.

They chatted a little more, then Thérèse made some broth for their supper and managed to persuade her mother to take a little. A soft conversation in French followed, then Thérèse called Jane over.

‘Miss Verey, may I make you known to my mother, the Vicomtesse de Beaurain? Mama, this is Miss Jane Verey.’

The Vicomtesse had the waxy pallor of the very ill. Her slight body made barely a dent under the thin covers. Her eyes, a faded blue that had no doubt once been as vivid as Thérèse’s own, were sunk deep and shadowed with pain. Nevertheless, they rested on Jane with interest and warmth. She took Jane’s hand in her own.

‘Enchantée, mam’zelle…’

‘I am sorry that you are so unwell, ma’am,’ Jane said sincerely. ‘It must be horrid for you. If I can do anything to help-’

The Vicomtesse opened her blue eyes very wide. ‘You can help, Miss Verey. You can persuade my foolish daughter to give your brother a hearing. She is pining for him, yet absurd notions of rank and pride keep her silent-’

‘Maman!’ Jane was amused to see that Thérèse had blushed bright red. ‘You should not give me away!’

‘Pshaw!’ The Vicomtesse made a vague gesture, lying back and closing her eyes. ‘I want what is best for my daughter, Miss Verey, and I recognise love when I see it. Seven times your brother has come here to speak to Thérèse and each time she has sent him away. Yet afterwards, she cries…’

‘Maman,’ Thérèse said again, beseechingly, ‘it is not so simple-’

‘Nonsense! It is as simple or as complicated as you wish to make it! That’s French practicality!’ The Vicomtesse smiled faintly. ‘Now let me rest, child, and think on what I have said!’

The candle had burned down. Thérèse started to tidy the room and folded up the sewing with neat, practical movements. ‘It is very late,’ she said. ‘Perhaps Samways will not be back tonight. You should try and rest…’

She dragged out a pallet from under the Viscomtesse’s bed and gestured towards it, but Jane was shaking her head.

‘I should not sleep,’ she said with truth. ‘I will doze in the chair-’

The door opened and Jane’s heart leaped in her throat. Samways came in, grinning at Thérèse as she looked down her nose at him.

‘Good evening, Princess! Well, now, it seems I have a tastier bait than I had thought at first!’ He swung round on Jane, who instinctively drew back. ‘It seems,’ Samways said gloatingly, ‘that this little lady is the betrothed of the Duke of Delahaye!’

Jane caught her breath as he came towards her and raised one calloused hand to run it down her cheek. She flinched away. ‘I have a grudge against that man,’ Samways continued. ‘At first I wondered whether it would suffice to send you back to him after an instructive night in one of my clubs…It’s a sweet notion!’ His shoulders shook at Jane’s look of disgusted horror. ‘But then I thought not-I’m not a vindictive man-I’ll just use you to bait the trap! He will come to save you, will he not?’

‘Let us hope he thinks it worth it!’ Jane said, with more cold composure than she was feeling. ‘I was telling Mademoiselle de Beaurain earlier that it is an arranged match. I pray that his Grace will put himself to the trouble!’

For a moment Samways hesitated, then showed his teeth in a yellow grin. ‘You had better pray so, miss! Now, you will stay here whilst I send to his Grace of Delahaye, telling him to meet me here to negotiate the terms of your freedom…’

With a sick flash of memory, Jane saw again that night at Vauxhall, the moonlight glinting on the knife blade. She knew what would await Alex when he came to keep the meeting. Thérèse stepped closer, as though she were afraid that Jane would faint, and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.