‘Oh, I beg your pardon!’ She swung around, an apologetic smile on her lips. The gentleman standing behind her was a stranger, but he was laughing.
‘C’est rien. Madame...Albury, is it not?’ He made her a bow. ‘We have not been introduced, but in such circumstances...Raymond Lamotte, madame, à votre service. This is most fortunate. I have been wanting to talk to you.’
‘To me?’ She studied the young man before her. He was of average height and darkly handsome with his raven hair, cropped à la Brutus.
‘Mais oui, madame. One could not help hearing the rumours...’ He looked a little self-conscious. ‘You are the daughter of a Frenchman, are you not?’ Dominique was no longer concerned for the man’s appearance. Seeing her intense look, he spread his hands. ‘I fled from my beloved France several years ago. It broke my heart to do so, but...’ he gave a shrug ‘...it is not the great country it once was.’
‘N-no, indeed,’ she murmured.
He glanced around.
‘It is difficult to speak here, it is so crowded. Perhaps, could I beg the honour of escorting you to supper?’
It took Dominique only a moment to decide. Gideon was nowhere to be seen and this young man was watching her so hopefully.
‘Of course, monsieur.’
The supper room was very busy, but her companion led her to a small table in one of the alcoves. An elegant supper was laid before her, but Dominique hardly noticed, for she was soon lost in reminiscences about France. Raymond Lamotte was eager to talk and she guessed that he was homesick, as she had been when she first came to England.
‘Of course it was easier for me,’ she told him. ‘I was a child, just ten years old, and my English mother had tried to ensure that I was familiar with the ways of this country. For you, monsieur, it must have been so much more painful.’
‘It was. I did not wish to quit France but what could I do? My friends were imprisoned, or worse. At first I was in favour of the revolution. The country needed to change, mais oui, but then came the Terror and the execution of the poor King and Queen—it was too much. The change was going too far.’
‘That is exactly what Papa thought,’ exclaimed Dominique. ‘But his views were too moderate and no one wanted to listen.’
‘So he brought you to England?’ He raised his hand and signalled to the waiter to refill their glasses.
‘No.’ Dominique waited until they were alone again, pleased for the delay so that she could muster her thoughts. ‘He arranged for Mama and me to come here while he remained in France.’ She added quietly, ‘We have not heard from him for ten years.’
‘Ah, I see. Je regrette—’
She raised her hand, fending off his sympathy. Glancing up, she noticed with surprise that the supper room was almost empty.
‘Oh, dear, how the time has flown,’ she said. ‘The dancing will begin again soon. Thank you, Monsieur Lamotte, I have enjoyed our conversation, but I must get back.’
‘Of course, I shall escort you.’ He rose and held out his arm to her. ‘If you will permit, I should like to talk more with you. It is so refreshing to be able to speak freely about my country with someone who loves it as I do.’
She nodded, saying shyly, ‘I should like that too, sir.’
‘May I call upon you tomorrow morning?’
‘No!’ She stopped in alarm, imagining Gideon’s anger if a Frenchman should arrive at his door. ‘No, that is not possible.’ She swallowed, aware of his disappointment. ‘But perhaps...perhaps you will be walking in Green Park tomorrow, sir, at ten o’clock? It is a popular promenade.’
‘And...will you be there, Madame Albury, at ten o’clock?’
‘I will,’ she declared, stifling her conscience. After all, there could be no harm in them meeting in public. ‘I will be there.’
‘Then so, too, shall I,’ declared Monsieur Lamotte. They were entering the ballroom, where the musicians were already tuning up for the next set. He said, a laugh in his voice, ‘I would ask you to dance with me, but I fear I have taken far too much of your time already and see several gentlemen giving me the angry look.’
She blushed and disclaimed, but did not seek to detain him. Even as she watched him walking away two young gentlemen came up, cheerfully vying with each other for the privilege of leading her out. Smiling, Dominique turned her thoughts away from Raymond Lamotte and gave herself up to the enjoyable task of choosing a dance partner.
* * *
‘I am sorry I was not able to take you in to supper,’ said Gideon as they rode home later that night. ‘Anthony and I were caught up in a political discussion and I did not like to abandon him. I hope you found someone to look after you?’
‘Yes, I did, thank you.’
Dominique struggled briefly with her conscience, wondering how she could explain to Gideon about Monsieur Lamotte, but even as she tried to frame her reply he took her hand, saying, ‘That’s good. I am glad you are finding your feet in town, Nicky.’
‘Oh, yes,’ she replied. ‘I go on much more comfortably, now I know so many people.’
‘Aye, I noticed you were never without a partner tonight.’ He laughed. ‘It will soon be that you will not have need of me to accompany you at all.’
She turned, looking at his dark shape beside her as she said earnestly, ‘Oh, never say that, Gideon. I would not be half so comfortable if you were not with me.’
He laughed and raised her hand to his lips.
‘Flatterer!’
Did he really think that, or was he perhaps looking forward to the day when he could leave her to fend for herself and return to his old bachelor ways? Dominique longed to ask him, but she kept silent, fearful of his answer.
Dominique met Raymond in Green Park the following morning. They spoke only briefly, but arranged to meet again the next day, and the next. Raymond was a charming companion. Not only were his recollections of France quite riveting, but he was also interested in her own childhood memories, and since she dared not mention her French connections to Gideon it was a relief to be able to talk about her family with someone who understood what she had been through. Soon she felt that they were firm friends.
However, they had very few acquaintances in common, so it was some weeks before they met again socially, at an evening party given by Lord and Lady Dortwood. Dominique spotted Raymond in the crowd, but although he acknowledged her with a faint nod the evening was well advanced before he came over to greet her.
‘I thought you would never ask me to dance,’ she said, when he led her out to join a new set.
‘I was not sure you would wish to acknowledge me,’ he murmured. ‘I see you are with your husband.’
‘Of course I will acknowledge you,’ she said, feeling the heat burning her cheeks. ‘I am not ashamed of knowing you!’
She danced on, unsettled by the realisation that she had not mentioned her friendship with Raymond to anyone. Their morning walks in Green Park had so far excited no comment since they had never met anyone with whom Dominique was acquainted. Now it occurred to her that others