‘Madame?’ Anne-Marie had difficulty, it seemed, in reconciling Jane’s appearance with her expectations.

‘An Englishwoman would not be riding out to Gemioncourt, I think.’ Jane lowered her chin as she had seen Vincent do, to crease the cravat just so. ‘Come in. I may need your help in a moment.’ She picked up the blue coat from the arm of the chair. ‘Have you spoken with Lieutenant Segal?’

‘No, madame.’ Anne-Marie slid into the room, staying on the edges, more like a wild animal than a young woman.

‘Thank you for that.’ Jane had not been sure if Anne-Marie’s about-face the previous night would last, and it might still break, but for the moment she would make use of the woman. As she slid the coat on, Anne-Marie came forward to help, as if unable to watch her dress without assisting.

With the coat in place, Jane had the tolerable appearance of a young man. For the first time, the severe features she had been born with served her well. Her long nose and sharp chin gave her the appearance of her father in his youth. Only her hair gave her away. Jane had tried one of Vincent’s hats, but no amount of tucking her hair out of sight did anything to make it seem other than what it was.

She pulled it back into a tail as some gentlemen did, but it was not right. Her hair hung past the centre of her back, too long to be a man’s, and the style was too old-fashioned to be a boy’s. ‘I thought that might be the case.’ Jane pulled a pair of scissors from her sewing basket. ‘Can you cut my hair in the Grecian style?’

‘No! No, you must not cut your hair.’ Anne-Marie waved her hands, and would not take the scissors.

‘I think it curious that you find cutting my hair so much more horrible than betraying me.’ Jane grabbed the long tail of her hair and pulled it over her shoulder.

‘I did not betray you. I am French, and I am loyal to my emperor. That loyalty must come first.’

‘Yes. I suppose so.’ Tightening her grasp, Jane lifted the scissors and hacked off the hair where it lay over her shoulder.

Anne-Marie shrieked as the hair came free. ‘Oh, madame!’

‘It is not as if I am destroying my beauty.’ Jane gestured to the mirror and grimaced. At this length, her hair was closer to correct, but still out of keeping with what a young gentleman would wear. She had to hope it would pass. She dropped the hank she had cut off into the ash bin. If she were at all fair to Anne-Marie, Jane would acknowledge that Vincent had been here to spy as well. She could not, however, be fair in this. ‘Feel free to make an improvement if you think it possible.’