‘Oh, Lady Allenham, she is a Scotswoman and a most celebrated lady. Why, there is not a person of rank, not a gentleman of title she does not know. She is an intimate of the Duc d’Orléans and is acquainted with all his circle. Indeed, my lady, if there is one person in Paris who should know of your husband’s whereabouts, it is she.’

I smiled to myself at this.

‘And her name?’ I enquired.

‘Elliot,’ responded he. ‘She has recently been made a widow, but is neither elderly nor dull. She has seen a good deal of life, having lived much of it in London among haute society.’

‘And what has brought her to Paris, so far from her native shore?’ I pressed.

Mr Savill paused and regarded me, as if savouring a moment of expectation. Then, just as he drew breath and opened his mouth, his coach came to a sudden halt.

‘Out of the road with you!’ I heard Savill’s driver shout, but the voices continued.

The Irishman pulled down his window, and I mine.

Ahead of us three rogues in red caps, their arms about one another, swayed in the road. They were very much in drink and were crying out what sounded like the verses of a song. I grimaced and drew up the window once more.

‘There will be more of this to come, I fear,’ he grumbled.

‘And why is that?’

‘Why? Because the French have declared war upon Austria, my dear. This very morning. Did you not hear the peal of bells? The tocsin? I cannot blame you if you did not. This city is constantly a-clatter with infernal ringing.’

I stared at Mr Savill. His indifference disquieted me nearly as much as did his announcement of war.

‘But what is to occur now?’

A wry expression crept over his face. ‘The French army will march as near to the border as the Austrian army will permit them and then there will be a battle, my dear,’ said he, pressing my hand in his once more.

I scowled at his teases and pulled away. He merely laughed.

‘My lady, you have no cause for alarm. We are in no danger of the Austrians appearing at the gates of Paris this afternoon and spoiling our dinner.’ He gave a small snort. ‘It is no concern of ours.’

But I was in no manner consoled. My thoughts turned immediately to Allenham, to the warnings he had written in his letter. I had not heeded them. I was not in Brussels. I was not upon a ship returning to England. No, contrary to his advice, I was in Paris and he was nowhere to be found, and I could not conceive of how I might locate him. My mood instantly fell into something sombre and fretful.

After a spell, the coach resumed its course and I began to feel my companion’s eyes upon me.