He retained her hand in spite of her attempt to withdraw it. "Ah, I must beg your pardon," he replied in f luent French, lifting her fingers to his lips. "My command of your delightful language is poor, but let us converse in it."

His command of French appeared to be all too excellent. The veil seemed to become suffocating. "I must sit down!" she said faintly, drawing her hand away. She turned to the steps, but she could not avoid him. He caught her elbow and supported her as she went down the wooden steps.

"Come this way," he said, his grip firm as he directed her toward the door of the nearest inn. "Stand aside!" he barked in English. "Let the lady pass!"

The crowd parted at his sharp command. Callie

found herself helpless, propelled by his supporting arm about her waist in spite of attempts to draw back. She dreaded to enter the inn with him, where there would doubtless be a great fuss made over a lady feeling faint. They might even encourage her to remove her veil.

She allowed him to escort her as far as the walkway and then set her feet. "Monsieur, do not trouble your self." She disengaged herself firmly. "If you please!" She put a little acid into her voice and made a point of removing his hand from her arm.

He stiffened for an instant and then bowed his head. "I beg you will consider me your humble servant, Madame! Are you feeling better?"

Callie took a deep breath. Seeing no other recourse open to her, she plunged with a whole heart into a masquerade of a haughty lady, bridling up and giving him a sideways glance of disdain. "I am well," she said coolly. "I do not believe I know you, Monsieur."

He stood quite still for a moment, looking at her with such intensity that she was sure he was trying to see through the veil. She turned her face away abruptly, fearing he would suddenly shout out her real name to the street.

"Of course," he said in an oddly light tone, doffing his plumed hat in the face of this direct cut. "But how could I be so foolish as to suppose you would remember me by name? I was among the liaison officers after the abdication. You were so kind as to open your home to us and give a luncheon al fresco, to celebrate the liberation of your country."

"Ah," Callie said, silently cursing Trev and his choice of towns and names. She put up her chin. "Yes, the picnic. You were there? I have a poor head for faces, Monsieur. A strange chance, to encounter you here, is it not? But you must pardon me, I will attend my husband now."