Lifting her hand, Sandhurst kissed it lightly and managed to smile. "I return your sentiments. Good-bye, my lady. Kindly make my farewells to your family."
"I shall. Au revoir, m'sieur."
* * *
Lying warm and naked in the great testered bed, Aimée watched her husband undress in front of the fire. In spite of her mixed feelings about Andrew Selkirk, now that he was leaving, a burden seemed lifted from Aimée's shoulders. At least there was no choice anymore. Micheline would have to marry the Marquess of Sandhurst, and some sixth sense told Aimée that all would be well. She could return her attention to Thomas, and this seemed a perfect time to begin.
"Mmm," she purred, "I've missed you...."
"Have you!" St. Briac glanced over at his wife, his mouth flickering with amused surprise. "I'm shocked that you have time for such selfish emotions."
"If you are referring to my preoccupation with Micheline, I can happily report that matters seem to be resolving themselves without me. She is nearly good as new, and Andrew Selkirk leaves tomorrow for England. There's nothing left for me to worry about—at the moment at least!"
Thomas stopped in the act of unlacing his breeches. "Did you say that Selkirk is leaving?"
"That's right—in the morning. He asked me to tell you good-bye."
St. Briac reached for his shirt and put it back on. "I ought to speak to him before he goes."
"What! Now?"
He arched a brow, smiling. "Now you're getting a taste of what I've been enduring these past months! Rather unpleasant, isn't it!"
"You're being hateful."
"Not at all. It's just that I happen to like Selkirk. I'd like to remind him that he had at least one friend here at Fontainebleau." Pulling on his doublet, St. Briac leaned across the bed and dropped a kiss on his wife's pouting lips. "It's time you learned patience, miette. You're much too spoiled."
In the doorway he glanced back and caught sight of a pillow flying from the bed. St. Briac dodged the missile just in time, and then the sound of his low laughter drifted back to Aimée from the other side of the door.
Thomas discovered Andrew Selkirk in his modest room, folding shirts and drinking wine.
"You ought to leave that to your manservant," St. Briac remarked.
The thought of Jeremy's reaction to such a statement made Sandhurst smile. "Oh, Playfair is off making a long farewell to a little saucemaker he's gotten to know rather well. In any case, I don't mind. The activity distracts me."
Thomas didn't need to ask what the Englishman needed to be distracted from. "Have you seen Micheline? Does she know you're leaving?"
"Yes on both counts." Andrew proffered a goblet of wine to St. Briac. "If you don't mind, I'd rather not discuss it."
When the shirts were folded and stacked, the two men took chairs in front of the fire. The flames leaped and danced, gilding Sandhurst's hair and handsome profile. They talked for a time about horses and England. At length, Thomas inquired, "Are you familiar with Paris? I can recommend excellent lodgings."
"I'd appreciate that. The auberge we picked at random on the way here left much to be desired." Ironically the Duke of Aylesbury owned a magnificent house in Paris, but Andrew had no intention of going there. He didn't want word to reach his father that he'd been in France at all. "We ate cold vegetables and hard bread on a greasy board and the wine was piquette. Playfair and I had to take turns sleeping during the night to ensure the safety of our belongings. Needless to say, I shall be grateful for your recommendation."
"My sister, Nicole, is married to an artist named Michel Joubert. They live quite comfortably on the Right Bank, and I can assure you that they would be more than happy to give you rooms for a night."
"But it would be too great an imposition! They've never met me."
"Trust me, my friend. My sister enjoys guests above all else. I will write a message for you to take to her. She will be delighted to welcome you—and equally delighted to hear all the news of my family."
"Well, if you are certain..."
St. Briac laughed. "Absolutely!"
"In that case, I am grateful."
The two men rose and shook hands. "It is late," said Thomas. "I'll say adieu now and wish you godspeed."
"I've enjoyed knowing you, my lord," replied Andrew.
"I have to tell you that I am sorry your story with Micheline could not have had a happier ending. I only hope that my wife is right