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Charenton.’
    Mechanically going through the obligatory courtesies, Ashley was aware of several things.   Sir Hugo looked uncomfortable; the Vicomte was not in the best of tempers; and Will’s eye was brimming with wicked amusement.
    Oh God , thought Ashley.   It’s a ménage à quatre .   Cinq , if you count that busty piece on the stage.   How long before I can get Will away?
    As it happened, he didn’t have to wait very long at all.   The third act drew to a close amidst increasingly ribald comments from the pit and, after some desultory discussion on the merits of the play and whether or not Arnaud Clermont was past his professional best, Sir William said suavely, ‘Celia, my angel – you’ll forgive me if Ashley and I desert you?   So much gossip to catch up on and, one suspects, so little time in which to do it, you know?’   Then, barely giving her time to nod, ‘Hugo, my dear fellow … such a pleasure to see you.   You must both sup with me one day soon.   And Jean-Claude … what can one say?   One had no notion that your liaison with the delectable d’Amboise was so widely known.   But naturally one sees that the cachet it gives the lady is bound to place a strain upon her discretion.   So difficult for you, mon brave .   One cannot but sympathise.’
    Still smiling and with the merest hint of a pause, Sir William turned to Ashley.
    ‘Come, my loved one. The play is about to resume and we must not interrupt it.   Farewell, one and all.   Bon nuit !’   Upon which, he swept Ashley away.
    ‘And that, as they say, was definitely better than the play,’ he remarked, linking arms with Ashley.   ‘It’s not Marie d’Amboise’s fault that the whole of Paris knows Charenton’s bedding her.   It’s milord himself who does the boasting.   And then he gets disgruntled when the wags make a game of him.   The man, my dear,’ finished Will blandly, ‘is an absolute prick.’
    Laughing, Ashley said, ‘And you’re a shit-stirrer.   I’m surprised he didn’t hit you.’
    ‘No, no.   He’d be afraid I might hit him back.’
    ‘Which, of course, you would.’   Ashley was perfectly well-aware that Sir William’s effete manner was only skin deep and that below it lay a dangerous and, when necessary, ruthless man.   ‘And what of the Verneys?   Something not quite right there either, I fancy.’
    ‘You were awake, weren’t you?’ came the admiring reply. ‘Can’t you guess?   The fair Celia is Verney’s mistress – but not, alas, Mistress Verney.’
    ‘Ah.’
    ‘Exactly. One understands that Hugo still has a wife in England, clinging tenaciously to the family estates and rearing a son … and similarly, Celia is still married to one of Cromwell’s up-and-coming officers.   So what we have here is caps over the windmill and the world well lost for love.   All very well in its way … but one wonders whether having the right body in bed is sufficient compensation for social leprosy.’   Will’s mouth curled wryly. ‘One may be a threadbare exile – but one has one’s standards.’
    ‘A lady conducts her affaires with discretion and a gentleman doesn’t inflict his whore on polite company?’   recited Ashley.   And then, ‘How nice that some people still have nothing better to think about.’
    ‘It would be if it were true.’
    ‘And isn’t it?’
    ‘Oh no,’ came the gentle reply.   ‘Most of our compatriots here have lost everything except their pride – and that, they preserve at all costs.   One can’t really blame them.   After all, you and I do it too.   The only difference is that we’ve grown so used to banging our heads against the wall, we don’t know how to stop.’   He paused and gestured to a shallow flight of steps.   ‘My humble abode – within which lie a couple of bottles of reasonably palatable burgundy.’
    Ashley paused.   ‘Louise?’
    ‘Visiting her family.   Fortunately.   I am aware that she likes you far too