“It is your birthday! Or have you forgotten?”
“Ihadforgotten, actually. But that’s not surprising. I haven’t celebrated one since my last before Father and I went to France.”
She gaped at him. “You never celebrated in the camp?”
“Do you remember me celebrating?” he asked, bemused by her interest.
“Come to think of it, no. Jon did. Scovell did. Even my papa did. Why not you?”
He shrugged. “My father thought birthdays were for children. Once I was grown, he saw no point. So, I saw no point.”
“Well,” she said, her tone full of outrage, “we shall celebrate yours. Perhaps not today, but tomorrow.”
“I’m busy tomorrow.”
“Doing what?”
He grinned at her. “Watching you plant hyacinth bulbs in my garden. It’s my birthday present, you know.”
“It is, indeed,” she said. “And you must have a galette, too.”
“If you say so.”
They walked back with their plates to join her mother, only to find Madame Bernard engaged in a long conversation with a French gentleman from Verdun.
Then Heathbrook heard a familiar voice behind him boom, “Heathbrook? Is that you?”
He turned to see Sir Percy Tindale standing there in the flesh. “Percy!”
The two shook hands vigorously as Giselle went over to bring her mother her plate of food. “What are you doing here?” Heathbrook asked.
“Probably the same as you, old chap. Watching the Show.”
Just then, Giselle returned to say, “Maman is very engrossed, so if we wish to dance, perhaps we can stay for—” She broke off as she caught sight of the baronet. “Sir Percy? I cannot believe it!”
“Mademoiselle Bernard!” He broke into a broad grin. “I didn’t expect to find you here tonight. Or, for that matter, in England.”
Taking the hand she offered, Percy stood back to examine her thoroughly.Toothoroughly, as far as Heathbrook was concerned.
“You look as ravishing as ever,” Percy said smoothly, and kissed her hand.
Bloody flirtatious arse.
“Thank you, sir.” She blushed as she extricated her hand from his. “And you look very good for a dead man.”
Percy blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“Rumor had it that you died in Arras,” Heathbrook explained.
“Butyoudid not believe it,” Giselle reminded Heathbrook. She looked at Percy. “The earl remarked that you were very good at getting out of trouble.”
“That’s what people always said about me, anyway,” Percy drawled.
Heathbrook took in Percy’s robust frame, fine clothing, and golden hair carefully coifed into the Brutus style. “Giselle’s right. Youdolook good for a dead man.”
“Clearly, rumor is as inaccurate as ever,” Sir Percy said with a shake of his head.
Heathbrook had a hundred questions for his old friend, butabout half would be better asked in a more private setting. He nodded to an opening leading into a hallway. “Come with me. I saw a deserted drawing room earlier. I want to hear everything about where you’ve been and how you got here. And I’d rather not be interrupted by strangers while we chat.”