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called. “That would certainly keep you out of trouble.”
    Her heart skidded. Oh, God. She had told him where she was from. Which meant—
    Thérèse broke out into a run, cradling her wicker basket against herself to keep everything within it from bouncing out.
    Determined booted feet thudded after her. “Why the hell are you running?!” he yelled.
    “ Because I am not going back to Giverny! So you might as well start shooting with every pistol you have !” Her parents, who were as stubborn as she, would lock her in a room until she married Didier. And then she would find herself covered in his facial powder every single night for life. For life!
    Her heart pounded as she ran even faster. An apple bounced out. She frantically tried to catch it, but it rolled off to the side.
    “ Mademoiselle , cease—” Rounding her with astounding speed, he blocked her path with his broad frame by skidding in before her. He grabbed her closest arm, yanking her to a halt that made them both stumble. “For mercy’s sake, arrêtez !”
    Thérèse jerked to a halt in exasperation and winced, knowing he wasn’t going to let her pass. She swallowed, her chest still heaving from the sprint she had attempted. She tore herself away from his grasp.
    There was only one thing left to do. Take to the stage. Like she always did.
    Forcing tears to streak her eyes in a well-practiced attempt to save herself, she choked out, “Please, Monseigneur. I…I beg of you not to insist.” She focused on ensuring her voice quivered just enough to sound real. “I am well aware of your superiority and apologize for my overly passionate words, but I cannot go back to Giverny and marry a man I do not love. It would ruin more than my heart. Is that what you seek to do? To take what remains of my insignificant life and fling me into perpetual misery? Would you be that cruel?” She would have let her lip tremble, but decided it would have been a bit much.
    His commanding blue eyes grew all the more amused. As did his husky voice. “You are an incredibly good actress. Do you toy with men like this all the time?”
    She cringed. It was the first time she failed to produce the effect she wanted. “No. Not all the time.”
    He assessed her, his amusement fading. “Do you really have a cousin in Paris?”
    She daintily swiped at what remained of the tears she had theatrically produced. “Yes, of course, I have a cousin. Just because I am an actress does not mean whatever comes out of my mouth is a lie.”
    His brows came together. “I am astounded he would let you walk to Paris alone. Women of all classes are being assaulted on the streets given there are no maréchaussées to oversee the chaos. Some of these revolutionaries are merrily raping women on the street in the name of ‘freedom’. Do you know that?”
    She swallowed. No. She didn’t. But she wasn’t surprised. Men were like that. Self-serving.
    He searched her face. “Your level of intelligence is astoundingly unusual for the daughter of a mere butcher. I cannot help but be skeptical as to who you really are.”
    Thérèse blinked through the last of her fake tears. It was so strange, but this close, those steel blue eyes of his had become more than a color. They were fiercely passionate, soulful and heart-wrenchingly beautiful.
    Those eyes didn’t seem to trust her anymore than she trusted him.
    She heaved out a sigh, ready to call it a truce. “Unusual though it is, I was actually sent to a seminary in Paris for three years. It was paid for by a very generous and wealthy patron my mother used to be a governess to. I thought my parents had lost the last of their bourgeoisie minds trying to overeducate me, only to discover I was an investment. They dragged me back to Giverny and forced me to teach everything I learned at the seminary to every single one of my ten unruly brothers. I taught the same bloody lesson plan for so many years, I am fully convinced I have been to Russia eighteen