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cooperation. I will buy it if you will not give it any other way.” He smiled. “As I told you, everyone has a price. I thought yours might be Ł100.”
    â€œHow dare you! I—” A bell chimed softly, and she raised her chin. “I must ask you to excuse me, Mr. Somerset. Maman is calling. I assume you can find your own way out as readily as you found your way in.” She picked up the money from the table and jammed it into his hand. “Finding a way in and out of a kitchen is a skill all rats have.”
    He tossed the money on the floor, and astonishment widened her eyes. “Brienne, you are in danger! Tremendous danger! Help me find the vase, so they will leave you alone.”
    Again she blanched. The insistent sound of the hand bell sent color flying across her cheeks. “Go away, and take your lies with you! That vase is not worth anyone …”
    â€œAnyone doing what?” he demanded. “Beating you? They have done that already! Ransacking L’Enfant de la Patrie? That did not work. Who will be attacked next? Your grandmother? Your mother?”
    â€œGo away!”
    â€œMy leaving shall not change anything.”
    â€œIt shall! I shan’t have to listen to your lies!” Brienne ran toward her mother’s room, trying to compose herself. Maman must have heard their argument. Seeing her mother’s dark eyes, which were sunk in the colorless expanse of her face, she asked, “You wanted me, Maman?”
    Maman looked past her in amazement. Glancing over her shoulder, Brienne fought the rage boiling through her. Evan Somerset had no manners. How dare he enter Maman’s sickroom without waiting for an invitation!
    â€œMaman, this is Evan Somerset,” she said in a strained tone. “He is—he is—”
    Sweeping past Brienne, Evan bowed to her mother with the grace of a courtier. With the narrow bed and a dresser piled high with clothing and medical powders, there was barely room for him. “How do you do, Madame LeClerc? Forgive this most unseemly intrusion, but Brienne and I were in the midst of a conversation when you rang, and being the devoted daughter she is, she would not wait a moment to hurry to your side.” With that beguiling smile Brienne was beginning to despise, he added, “If I may be so bold, madame, may I say I can see that Brienne inherited much of her extraordinary loveliness from you?”
    Brienne was not surprised when Maman smiled, even though her mother often had told Brienne how much she resembled her late father. Maman always had had a weakness for handsome men. At least, that was what Grand-mère frequently mumbled. Brienne had seen few signs of that, for Maman had never entertained any gentlemen.
    In her reedy voice, Maman answered, “You may be so bold, Monsieur Somerset.” She spoke in the thick French accent she took pride in, for she refused to admit they were staying in London. Glancing at Brienne, she smiled. “Are you calling on my daughter?”
    â€œTo be honest, I should say I hope I am. Your daughter is incredibly resistant to my attempts to woo her.”
    â€œBrienne is innocent in many ways, but, of course, every mother wishes to see her daughter settled happily and well.”
    â€œI’m quite happy with my life, Maman,” Brienne said in a chiding voice.
    Before Evan could reply, Grand-mère called, “Brienne! Lucile! Are you about?” She paused in the bedroom door. “Monsieur Somerset!” She held out a slip of paper. Staring at Evan, she flinched and switched to English. “Brienne, ma petite , there are pound notes all over the parlor. I—”
    Brienne plucked it from her fingers. “They belong to Mr. Somerset.”
    â€œIs that so?” She frowned. “I am curious why even a man of your apparent means is throwing such a fortune about.”
    â€œIt is a long story,” he said with a smile.
    Grand-mère