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‘And he is already in your employ?’ He nodded. Elinor opened her mouth to demand to know why Theo’s employee was hanging around the town pretending to be a stray loafer looking for casual work and then closed it again. Not in front of Mama. He nodded again in recognition of her tact, the glimmer of a smile touching his mouth. It was the first genuine sign of pleasure she had seen from him since they arrived at Beaumartin.
‘You could stop now and have a fitting for your new gowns,’ Theo suggested as the carriage rolled into St Père. It was far too early for even the most industrious sempstress working alone to have anything ready for a first fitting. He knew it and she knew it. Only Lady James, loftily above such trivia as gowns would not think it strange. Perhaps Theo was going to confide in her at last.
‘What a good idea.’ Elinor sounded suspiciously bright and breezy, even to her own ears. ‘Will you drive me back to Vezelay later in the gig?’
‘Yes, of course. Aunt Louisa, that will be all right, will it not?’
‘What? Oh, yes, whatever will waste least time on fripperies.’ Lady James went back to frowning over her notebook.
Theo stood watching the carriage vanish round the bend, leaving a cloud of dust and two yapping dogs in its wake, then fished a key out of his pocket and opened the door into the dressmaker’s shop.
‘Madame is not even here, is she? So, are you going to tell me what all the mystery is about?’
‘There is no mystery.’ Theo ignored her sceptical expression. ‘Just a confidential business matter. However, I need to talk to you about the count. It had not occurred to me that he may not be a suitable person for you to associate with. You should keep your distance from him throughout the stay. I could wish I had not involved you now.’
‘Why ever not?’ Elinor demanded, perplexed. ‘He is quite charming…’
Theo shrugged. ‘If you like that sort of all-over-you hand kissing.’
‘And extremely good looking.’ He merely snorted. ‘And delightful to talk to.’
‘The accent, I suppose. Really Cousin, I am surprised you, of all people, would fall for such facile attributes.’
‘Facile? Well, and if he is, what is the harm, pray? I am sure he will be a delightful host.’ Theo was frowning. ‘And unless you give me a good reason why he is not a suitable person, I have every intention of associating with him as much as I please. I am going to be his guest—to oblige you—after all.’ She glared at his unresponsive face, then remembered another grievance. ‘And what do you mean, you of all people?’
‘I thought you were past the simpering débutante stage—’
‘Too old, you mean? A spinster?’ Elinor enquired, her voice dangerously quiet. ‘I should not enjoy conversing with an attractive and charming man? In effect, I would be making a fool of myself and would appear to be angling for his attention?’
‘Damn it!’ Theo’s hands were on his hips, his expression a mixture of frustration and anger.
‘And do not swear at me, if you please,’ Elinor said, with the deplorable intention of infuriating him further. ‘I am certain Count Leon would not do so, however annoyed he might be,’ she added sanctimoniously, throwing oil on the flames.
‘But he would do this,’ Theo snapped, taking her by the shoulders and kissing her, his mouth hard, hot and angry on hers.
Chapter Six
As first kisses went, it was a lamentable disapp
ointment.
Elinor bit Theo’s tongue which was, to her alarm, between her lips, stamped on his instep and fisted her right hand in his hair, giving it a violent tug. ‘And if Count Leon did assault me in that manner, that is what I would do!’ she spat, wrenching herself free to stride to the door and throw it open.
She was out on to the quiet street before he could reach her. The door banged back against the frame and she took three strides away from it, shaking with humiliated shock. Two small children playing on a doorstep with a puppy looked up at the noise, a woman leaning out of a window to shake a rug stopped flapping it for a moment to stare and the rider on the raking bay horse walking down the middle of the street reined in as the animal tossed its head and snorted.
‘Excusez-moi,’ Elinor apologised, struggling to find her French, blinking against the light. The bright sun was the reason her eyes were blurry with unshed tears, of course. That, or anger.
‘It is nothing.’ The rider spoke with a heavy accent. It took Elinor a moment to realise that she had been identified as English, which was disconcerting, and that the speaker was a woman, not French, and was riding astride. Riding astride, moreover, in a skirt just like the one Theo had sketched.
She was not paying Elinor any further attention. ‘Teó, mi amor.’ She smiled over Elinor’s head. Spanish? It was not one of Elinor’s languages, but she could work it out from Latin.
‘Ana.’ He sounded less than delighted to see her, but Elinor could not bring herself to turn round and look at him. Not yet. Possibly being addressed as my love by one woman, in front of another who has just bitten and kicked you when you kissed her, was enough to strain any man’s temper. Well, hers was most uncertain also, just at this moment. ‘What the devil are you doing here?’
‘Following you, Teó, all the way from Picardie. You did not make it easy. You have sold the object back to the new count?’
‘I have not got it, and if I had, it is not, as you very well know, mine to sell.’ They were talking in riddles, but this must have something to do with Theo’s secretive behaviour and his wish to stay at the Chateau de Beaumartin. Elinor kept her eyes on the woman. ‘You are telling me you do not have it?’
‘But, no, I do not! You thought I had? This is enchanting.’ She laughed, a throaty chuckle. Elinor’s fingers curled into her palms. ‘So someone has taken it from you, my poor Teó. By force, one assumes? Were you hurt, mi amor?’
