‘No, no! Mme Meynard, the English are so chaste and pure that one cannot touch them without marring their virtue.’

Jane would not allow herself to be baited by Lieutenant Segal, so she addressed herself to her hostess instead. ‘You misunderstand. To kiss a woman’s hand is a sign of esteem, certainly, but you must acknowledge that it is impossible to esteem someone who is but newly met. Therefore, to do so upon meeting seems insincere at best.’

Mme Meynard raised her eyebrows and gazed coquettishly over her fan at Lieutenant Segal. ‘I would say that the charge of insincerity is not far off the mark.’

‘I am wounded. I have been in your bedchamber, Mme Vincent, so you can hardly say that we have only met.’

Outraged at his insinuation that their acquaintance was more intimate than it was, Jane tried to set the record straight. ‘While I thank you for your rescue when I fainted at the parade, this hardly counts as meeting.’

Lieutenant Segal pressed his hand to his breast and widened his stance slightly to include his audience in his reply. ‘Perhaps, but I have kissed the hands of all of these ladies, and you must believe me sincere in the admiration of them all.’

Several of the younger ladies giggled at that, lending credence to his protestation that his behaviour was within the bounds of delicacy.

‘If you say you are sincere, then I must believe you and yet . . . you cannot base your admiration on the mind, for our first meeting did not have the pleasure of conversation. Indeed, I was entirely insensible.’ Jane fingered her own overlong nose. ‘I doubt that it is on the basis of physical appearance. May I inquire what forms your admiration?’

‘Why, that the focus of my admiration is a lady. What can be more admirable than that?’ Lieutenant Segal gestured at the small crowd surrounding them. ‘To a Frenchman, there is nothing so worthy of admiration than women in all their forms. The source of Napoleon’s genius, some say, was his Joséphine.’

‘And not Queen Marie Louise?’

‘I did say “in all their forms.” Queen Marie Louise is the source of his happiness. Genius and happiness are both admirable.’ He bowed shortly. ‘But I am prepared to concede that perhaps it is only French women who are thus.’

As she had seen at other of Mme Meynard’s parties, a small group now surrounded them, listening to their conversation. Though Jane resented being made a spectacle and would rather excuse herself at once, she lingered. In part, because she was certain that Mme Meynard would derive great amusement from her departure, and though her conduct was reprehensible, she was a particular friend of Mme Chastain and Jane would not willingly slight her. Rather than acceding the field, Jane resolutely maintained her composure. ‘I see. I will not ask for your opinion of the women in Britain, but what of the women in Belgium?’