‘Vincent . . . Might she be the glamourist on the balcony?’

His eyes widened in alarm at that. ‘You said you did not recognise her.’

‘No, but all I could see was the bottom of the woman’s chin.’

He grunted. ‘Well. I will ride to Brussels tomorrow and confer with Mr. Gilman.’

‘And I will try to keep my behaviour unchanged toward her.’

‘I fear that you have the harder task. If you would like to accompany me so you do not have to face her, you may.’

‘No.’ Surely Jane could govern herself as far as that. ‘I would not want to alert her by a change in our routine.’

‘Very good.’ Vincent nodded. ‘And in the meantime, I feel that I should perform some form of absolution for doubting you.’

‘What could you mean?’

Vincent drew her onto his lap. ‘Clearly, I was wrong not to have told you straight away.’ He found one of the laces holding her night dress closed. ‘I should like to make an apology for that.’

Jane’s breath caught as he teased the lace free.

Vincent woke later in the morning than was his wont on days when Brussels was on his schedule. The sun was already streaming into their apartments. ‘Will you be all right today? I will likely be late tonight.’

‘I will be quite well, I assure you. After having survived Mme Meynard’s parties, I feel equal to keeping my composure with Anne-Marie.’

Vincent kissed her forehead. ‘I adore you.’

Jane tilted her head up. ‘Perhaps you do not need to race off to Brussels?’

One corner of his mouth curled in a smile and he traced a hand down her shoulder to the bare skin on her arm. ‘I should like, above all things, to stay this morning.’

‘But duty calls.’ She sighed and raised her hand to her brow in mock remorse. ‘Woe.’

Laughing, he caught her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. His lips had barely touched her skin when the sound of horses entering the courtyard drew them both to the window.

Below, a company of men in the blue and white coats and breastplate of French cuirassiers positioned themselves around the courtyard. Jane’s heart quickened with alarm. Though Lieutenant Segal might move in their social circle, it was too early to pay a call.

Vincent squeezed her arm. ‘Stay here. I will see what they are about.’

‘But—’

‘I will only listen from the top of the stairs.’ Before Jane could object further, Vincent had left the room.

Jane, still in her dressing gown, could only stand at the door, listening to the muffled voices from below. She watched Vincent where he stood, just back from the top of the stairs. His shoulders tightened and he retreated slowly, then turned and ran down the hall toward her. Jane backed away from the door as he burst into the room.