He sat down on the bed beside her. “I’m not going to hurry you. We have time.”
She looked at him wordlessly.
“Are you cold? Should I build a fire?”
She shook her head.
“Would you like some wine?”
“No.”
He had to bend closer to hear her and she froze.
“Sacre bleu!”The curse exploded from him as hejumped to his feet. “Will you stop shaking? I told you there was nothing to fear. Do you think this is easy for me? Mother of God, I—”
“Stop cursing!” His violence suddenly ignited an answering response. She glared at him. “I won’t stand for it. First you let those horrid men say filthy things to me, then you order me about, and now you curse in my presence as no gentleman would.”
He was staring at her in astonishment.
She gestured to the bed. “And this may be necessary but it’s not at all easy for me either.”
“Well, it’s certainly not my fault. I’ve behaved every bit as gently as that fine buck Philippe. I can’t remember ever using such soft words to any woman.”
“That’s quite clear. You do it very badly.”
The anger abruptly faded from his expression as his gaze narrowed on her face. “You prefer me to be rude?”
“It seems more natural. You make me uneasy when you pretend to be something you’re not.”
“Do I?”
“Has no one ever accused you of being rude before? Why are you staring at me like that?”
“I believe I’ve just made a discovery.” He gave her a curious smile. “And yes, it’s no secret among my acquaintance that I’m neither sweet-mannered nor a gentleman. Now, since you’re no longer quivering and quaking, may I get you a glass of wine?”
“I don’t rest well if I drink wine before I go to sleep.”
“You don’t look as if you rest well anyway.” He paused. “Do you still dream?”
“Yes.” Her gaze slid away from his and she changed the subject. “That’s why Juliette sometimes brushes my hair at night before I go to sleep. It…relaxes me.”
“Are you suggesting I take over her duty?”
She looked back at him, startled. “No.”
“I think you are.” His smile widened with amusement. “I think you’re angry with me for ordering you about and wish to humble me.”
Was he right? Catherine had not thought she wascapable of wishing to see anyone humbled, but there was no doubt François’s arrogance had annoyed her exceedingly. “I was merely making a remark.”
He bowed mockingly. “Like any patriotic republican I’m not ashamed to discharge lowly tasks.” He strolled toward the highboy across the room. “Tonight we’ll pretend I’m Juliette.” He picked up the horsehair brush on the highboy and turned to face her. “I’ll even promise not to tongue-lash you as she might.”
She gazed at him uncertainly as she watched him come toward the bed. Her hand tightened on the sheet. “Juliette doesn’t tongue-lash me.”
“Then she makes you the sole exception.” He began to take out the pins binding her hair in its tight bun. “Why are you trembling? I’m only going to brush your hair.”
She closed her eyes tightly as the loosened hair tumbled down her back.
“I have no desire to touch you.” The brush began to move through her hair in long, deep strokes. For many minutes the only sound in the room was the sibilant whisper of the bristles in the thickness of her hair.
