‘Thank you. But I needed to spend part of today in Binché, and likely will again this week.’ Vincent tugged at his cravat and Jane was fairly certain that only being in the public rooms rather than their apartments kept him from removing it altogether.

‘Oh. I had not realized you had business in Binché.’ She paused, waiting for him to tell her what it was.

He stood instead. ‘Come upstairs and tell me about your day.’

That he had changed the subject, and baldly, was apparent, but Jane could not account for why. This did not mark the first time he had done so, but the subjects he wished to avoid were so varied she could see no pattern in them. At times she thought he did not wish to speak to her at all, at others his pleasure in her company was so evident it seemed impossible that any coldness had ever existed.

Had he not been so evidently fatigued, she might have pushed him for an explanation. Indeed, she found herself tempted to take advantage of any lack of discretion which his weary state might lend. ‘I would rather hear about your day, if you do not mind. I see so little of you that I find myself quite hungry for even the smallest details.’

He tucked his chin in as he did when he was thinking. ‘Would you humour me and allow me to forget about the day? I will confess that I am somewhat overweary.’

‘Of course.’ She accompanied him upstairs, taking his arm and feeling him lean some weight upon her rather than the reverse.

‘That does not mean you should be silent.’ He squeezed her hand on his arm. ‘Distract me. Tell me what you did today.’

‘I went with Mme Chastain to the Meynard’s home.’ Jane tried to drag her mind away from wondering what could leave Vincent so irritable and exhausted. ‘Mme Meynard is charming enough, but the conversation is . . . challenging. She delights in introducing people who are likely to disagree, so she might observe the resulting fireworks. Today she had me paired with a French lieutenant.’

‘Are there troops in town?’ Vincent opened the door to their apartments and let her pass through.

‘Only a small contingent. Some four or five officers. I did not hear what their purpose was, only that they seem determined to attach every young woman in town.’ Jane helped Vincent off with his coat, making a note to send it out to have the road dust removed. He had ridden so much lately that the coat was more brown than blue. ‘According to Anne-Marie, who has also seen the officers, Lieutenant Segal is absolutely the most noble man she has ever seen.’

He tugged off his cravat and dropped it over the back of a chair. ‘This sounds much like your sister. Are all women thus taken with dashing young soldiers?’

‘Not quite all.’