She laughed. “I believe that you are quite safe. Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river. ‘I rather gathered as much,’ said Miss Froxfield, releasing her hands. Gianfrancesco found himself to be his family’s sole remaining male heir. “Your best route will be via Boulogne and Folkestone at nine o’clock from the Gare du Nord. But, whether she likes it or not, I aim to be on hand to get her out of it. ‘Beg pardon, miss, but I’m told as how—’ She broke off, her eyes widening, her jaw dropping open. Every time he left a room, she chastised herself bitterly for her own profound weakness. She got home every night in time to cook supper and it was good money.
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