Sir Percy downed the rest of his glass of champagne and went to work on a second one, looking deep in thought. “What about the fellow who supplied our fake passports? Have you looked intohim?”
When Giselle stiffened in alarm, Heath took her hand and squeezed. “Jon never told us who he was, so no. But Jon also said he can’t be the one.”
Why was Heath lying about it? He knew perfectly well who had done their passports. Or was he refusing to mention Mr. Beasley for fear Sir Percy might accidentally tell someone and get her and Maman in trouble? If so, that was very sweet of him.
Sir Percy nodded. “I’m sure Jon would know whether to trust the fellow.”
“And I trust Jon,” Heath said.
Heath still had hold of her hand, which he was idly stroking as he talked. Was he aware of it? She certainly was. They had both removed their gloves to eat, so now their hands were skin to skin. Her heart raced madly, a counterpoint to the slow dance of his fingers intimately caressing hers.
“Have you looked into other people in the lodging house?” Sir Percy took a deep breath. “I suppose it could have been MadameDubois herself. She knew everything that went on in that place.”
Giselle scowled at him. “It couldnothave been Madame Dubois. You merely think so because she is French! I suppose you will be suggestingmenext.”
“Of course not,” Sir Percy said hastily. He looked over at Heath in bewilderment.
“Madame Dubois is her cousin,” Heath explained. “She always treated us kindly, and none of us considered her capable of betraying us. Still don’t.”
“Besides which, she is a person of good character!” Giselle said hotly as she stood. “How dare you think so ill of her, sir?”
“He was only trying to help,ma chérie,” Heath said.
“By maligning my cousin!”
Sir Percy held up his hands. “I had no idea. I am dreadfully sorry to have offended you, mademoiselle.”
“Well, you should be,” she grumbled. “It was most presumptuous of you to think such a thing about Madame Dubois, who always had only the well-being of her tenants in mind.”
“You are absolutely right.” Sir Percy stood, too. “I spoke out of turn. Please say you’ll forgive me.”
“I do not know …” she said, though she had to admit he had apologized very prettily.
“It sounds as if they’re beginning the dancing,” Sir Percy added. “Come show me you don’t hold my rash words against me by standing up with me for the first dance.”
He held out his hand and she hesitated to glance at Heath. Suddenly, he seemed very interested in his food.
Ooh, she did not know which would be worse—dancing with Sir Percy after he had insulted her cousin, or sitting out the dancing with Heath, who clearly refused to oblige her in her desire to dance. No doubt he thought she should sit here withhim.
The devil she would!
“Very well,” she said sweetly to Sir Percy, though she ignored his hand to head for the door. “But no more talk of Verdun and Bitche. You must tell me all about your home at Tindale Castle. I have never seen an English castle.”
Sir Percy followed her. “And how long have you been in England?”
“Several months.”
Heath stood. “Giselle is a city girl,” he said, with an edge in his voice. “She’s rarely anywhere that would allow for viewing castles.”
“We shall have to remedy that, shan’t we?” Sir Percy said, then led her out of the door.
Ha! Take that, monsieur!
They walked down the hall to the ballroom and entered to find that many others had been drawn by the music and were already taking positions for the first dance.
As they joined the other dancers, Sir Percy glanced back, then said, “Your fiancé has come after us, and is now standing over there glowering at me.”
She followed the direction of his gaze. “Is he?”