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‘Exactly.’ He ran his hands through his hair. ‘No. Put like that, it is clearly impossible. We must write and decline, say you have been taken ill or something. I will find some other way of searching the place.’
‘I do not agree; anyway, I would have to be at death’s door, otherwise Mama will simply leave me with Jeanie. She is not a clinging parent.’
‘I had noticed.’ Theo turned to look at Elinor, the frown even more pronounced. His indignation on her behalf gave her a twinge of pleasure. It felt strange to have a friend who defended you. ‘I try to imagine my mother abandoning one of my sisters if she was ill in a foreign town, and failing.’
‘Mama has even less sensibility than I.’ It was too late to start feeling hurt about it. Mama, if challenged, would simply look puzzled and explain patiently that it was simple common sense and that hovering about her daughter when she felt unwell was not going to assist her recovery. One should call the doctor and get on with one’s work. That was the rational approach.
The trouble was, the rational approach was beginning to feel a very cold thing to Elinor. Was that the result of one kiss? Surely not? Perhaps it was that Theo was making her see her mother, and her own situation, through his eyes. It was not a very comfortable picture.
‘I want to go to Beaumartin,’ she said, meeting his eyes squarely and putting all the conviction she could muster into the statement. ‘Mama can be in no danger—I doubt very much if she would notice a full-scale orgy taking place when she is working—and I am forewarned. I will just keep out of the way and let you get on with your search.’
There was a long pause while he thought about it. Elinor concentrated on looking as much like a meek and biddable young lady as was possible under the circumstances. ‘I am forewarned,’ she repeated as the silence lengthened. ‘And I know who to avoid.’
‘Very well,’ Theo surrendered with a frown. ‘It is going to be thoroughly awkward if we pull out now. But, Elinor—you stick to Aunt Louisa and concentrate on drinking tea and drawing interesting architectural features. Absolutely nothing else. You promise?’
‘I quite understand.’ Elinor nodded earnestly. And that is not a promise.
‘Then we had better be getting back. Even Aunt Louisa is going to notice that you could have tried on an entire wardrobe of clothes in this time.’
Theo got to his feet and stood looking down at her. She was aware of a moment of hesitation before he held out his hand to draw her to her feet. Against the light his body was reduced to a powerful male silhouette. Elinor placed her hand in his, conscious of the strength of the long fingers as they clasped hers, and was pulled easily to stand in front of him. The temptation to sway towards him and see what could happen was powerful. No, her curiosity, if that was what it was, had got her into enough trouble already, and Theo, she was sure, was regretting that kiss, even if she could not bring herself to. She applied some self-control inste
ad and stepped briskly towards the gig.
‘You did not tell me about your man, the one who carried my things and drove the carriage.’
The big watchful figure was waiting still when they came back into the square. ‘All you need to know about Hythe,’ Theo said as he reined in, ‘is that if anything happens and you can’t find me, you may trust him with your life.’
He tossed the reins to the man. ‘I am going to walk Miss Ravenhurst back. Wait for me.’
The next day they saw nothing of Theo and Elinor could only guess what he was up to. She and Lady James worked hard at the draft chapters on the basilica, visited three very ancient local antiquaries and the prior and got up to date with their letter writing. With Lady James engrossed in more academic correspondence, writing to her siblings was left to Elinor. As she wrote, trying to make an interesting narrative of their researches and the visit to the chateau, she wondered if everything that had passed with Theo had been a dream.
Then a little shiver ran down her spine and that pooling heat deep in her belly reminded her that, yes, she had been kissed and held in those strong arms. And if truth be told, she wished very much it would happen again. She sat back, biting the end of her pen and thought ruefully that the legend about Pandora and her box was something she should have attended to.
On Friday morning a local lad brought a note from Madame Dubois telling her that her clothes were ready for the first fitting. ‘Is there a horse and gig to be hired in the town?’ she asked the boy. ‘A very quiet horse?’
‘Mais oui, mademoiselle.’ He nodded earnestly. ‘Jean le Grand down in the square has a livery stable, he will have something for mademoiselle. He is not busy just now, I know, for I help him. Shall I run down and ask him to make one ready?’
He was hoping for a tip from both ends, Elinor guessed, smiling at the slightly grubby face upturned to hers. ‘I will come down now. You run ahead and talk to Monsieur le Grand for me. A quiet horse, remember!’ she called after him as he took to his heels.
‘Mama, I am going down to the dressmaker. I expect I will be back later this afternoon—there are all the gowns to try on.’ And she might meet Theo and have luncheon at the inn. Or walk by the river again. And try to pretend that kiss never happened.
‘You are walking?’ Lady James looked up from her work.
‘No, driving, Mama.’
‘Good.’ The rigidly coiffed grey head bent over the table again. She hasn’t even remembered I cannot drive, Elinor thought, snatching up her hat. She hesitated over her bulging satchel, wondering if she should take just her reticule, then lifted it and slung it over her shoulder. There might be an opportunity for some sketching.
The lad, whose name, he informed her, was Pierre, had been as good as his word and the stable owner was standing in the square, holding the head of a placid-looking grey mare harnessed to an equally elderly gig. ‘As quiet as you could wish, mademoiselle,’ he assured Elinor, helping her up. ‘She will give you no trouble.’
‘Thank you.’ She leaned down and handed the lad a coin and he doffed his cap, informing her that he, above all the other boys, was at her service for any errand. The reins felt stiff and awkward in her hand, and she did not risk trying to hold the whip as well. ‘Walk on!’
The mare pricked her ears and set of at a reassuringly steady pace. Elinor took a deep breath and tried to look as though this was not the first time she had ever driven a carriage all by herself.
By the time they had reached St Père her back was aching and her arms were weary, but the little mare had been as good as gold and she felt sure she could drive back after a rest. ‘Good girl!’
Stretching, she led the mare into the lean-to stable and found the gig and Theo’s horse. He was here. With a smile of anticipation she tied up the mare, pulled some hay into the manger in front of her and lugged over a water bucket before lifting down the satchel and going to the shop.
The door was ajar, so she tapped and pushed it open. Garments in fabrics she recognised lay on the work table, white basting stitches all over them and the hems raw. A tape measure and a big pincushion were on top and the stool was overturned.
