“And in the Loire? On your brother’s estate?”
She caught a breath and met his languid gaze. He had asked about her brother. What did he know about him? “No one does that on Bechard land these days.”
“Your brother does not approve?”
“He cannot. Vaillancourt, Fouche’s deputy, put Luc into La Force two years ago.”
His fingers flexed against her flesh. His reaction warmed her. “Oh, I am sorry, mademoiselle. I did not know.”
“Few do. Do not apologize.”
“I should have. I try to keep informed about such things.”
“My brother is a good man.”To most. But to Fouché and his deputy, the venal Vaillancourt, prison is the right reward not only for Luc’s actions but also for my own. “You have heard of him?”
“Is your brother not heir to the Duc de Brissac’s estates?”
“He is. He was forced to claim them, when Bonaparte enforced a tax on our home estate if Luc did not claim the greater holdings. Luc did not wish to be associated with the Brissac name or reputation.”
“The duke was a close associate of the late King Louis.”
“And a corrupting influence,” she said. “My brother is the opposite. An upright man of ethics and morals.”
“I hear your anger and your despair. I apologize for broaching the subject. Would you like to end our dance?”
“No apology is necessary, sir. You are kind, but let us finish the dance. We do not want people to think you have offended me when, indeed, you have not.”
His fingers moved on her waist, pressing and drawing her ever so slightly nearer. “You have an eye for Society’s reactions. That is practical, mademoiselle. And you are kind to me to continue the dance.”
They broke apart to do a promenade, and when they returned to face each other, he took both her hands to lead her forward in the steps and she said to him, “Neither of us has a desire to create any rumors.”
“None.”
“Your reputation speaks of good deeds, sir.”
He cocked a brow. “You have asked about me?”
“I have not had to ask. Many value what you do and who you are.”
He twirled her about, and when they were once more face to face, he smiled down at her, those dimples showing as he whispered, “I am honored.”
She could not help but smile. “Do you try to gild the lily, Monsieur le Comte?”
He gave a laugh. “What do you mean?”
“I pay you a compliment and you try for more?” She arched her brows.
“No, mademoiselle. I am pleased with what you have given me.”
Of course he was pleased! She had to tease him, though she knew it would encourage him more. “Another kiss?”
“Oui,definitely that.”
“It was a surprise, monsieur. The carriage, too.”
“Evan,” he corrected her.
She gave him a sly side-eye. “I was taken by storm. Both times.”
