“I do hope I have been able to make you understand how I feel, that you don’t consider me a hopeless prig. Before our marriage there will be no life between you and the estates. ‘We will converse in your own tongue,’ he said in French as he led her away. “Annabel!” He looked at her thoughtfully. ” Lucy walked out of her bedroom door following Mike down the tiny hall. ‘Just what I was going to tell you, miss. What was the fellow doing in this part of the town? Had not Lady Bicknacre said he was living at Paddington? The Frenchman, booted and neat in buckskin breeches and a plain frockcoat, a flat-brimmed hat on his head, paused a moment at an intersection with one of the roads leading north, apparently seeking a street sign. “Perhaps one talks nonsense about a woman’s instinct,” she said. “Thanks, Cathy.
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