Midnight passed and people started to drift away. The die-hard few had become mellow. Large amounts of liquor had been consumed. The air was hazy with cigarette smoke. The band had stopped playing.

“How about dustman’s knock?” someone said, laughing.

“What’s dustman’s knock?” I asked.

“Like postman’s knock, only dirtier,” he replied. Everyone was chuckling now. I wasn’t sure if I was having my leg pulled or not.

“Capital idea. Do you have keys, Claire?” one of the men said.

“I never lock anything,” my mother said. “We’ll have to write numbers on slips of paper. We can put them in this bowl.”

I knew what postman’s knock was, as I’d played it at parties. A boy was chosen to be the postman and was then sent outside the door while the girls drew their numbers from a bowl. He’d knock, then announce that he had a package for, say, number twenty-one. That particular girl would go outside to receive the parcel, and she’d get a kiss. It was a fun way of pairing up. Fun, but harmless. So I could imagine what this version might entail and I had no intention of being part of it. Maybe if Jean-Paul had stayed . . . I was still perplexed about his behavior to me. Perplexed and more than a little disappointed. When nobody was looking, I slunk away and went to my bedroom.

I shut the door behind me with a sigh of relief.

“I’m glad to see you’re alone,” said a voice and there was Darcy, sitting on the end of my bed.

Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Villa Marguerite
January 28, 1933—early next morning

Darcy was sitting on my bed, wearing an open-necked shirt. His dark curls were unrulier than ever and those alarming eyes flashed dangerously when he saw me. I felt my heart give a giant lurch. If I had thought I was getting over him, I was hopelessly wrong.

“What are you doing here?” I asked shakily.

“Keeping an eye on you,” he said. “I just heard what happened last night. You’ve got yourself into a bit of a pickle, haven’t you?”

“I’m sure it will all be sorted out soon. The police will realize they’ve made a stupid mistake. And Jean-Paul has found me a first-class lawyer.”

He got up and came over to me. “That’s another thing,” he said. “Your marquis. I want to warn you about him. He’s a dangerous man, Georgie. I can see why you’re attracted to him, but he’s not to be trusted. I’m afraid there are things you might not like to know about him.”

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from a man like you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“That there are so many things you’ve conveniently forgotten to tell me. Important things.”