To Sketch a Sphinx - Rebecca Connolly Page 0,13
his head, eyes wide. “I had no idea… That is incredible.”
Color raced into Hal’s cheeks, and she returned to the sketch, focusing on the hair above his left ear. “Thank you.”
“When did you know you could draw an individual so accurately?” he asked, leaning against the railing behind him. “That is a gift.”
Hal chuckled, the sound lower than John expected to hear. “When I was ten, the portrait I made of my father was less than flattering. He claimed I had to do it again for better practice, and I assured him that was what he looked like.” She paused in her sketch and looked up at John again. “My mother took one look at my drawing and said, ‘Oh, zat is quite right. Très bien, ma chérie.’” She quirked her brows. “The pair of them had quite a row over it. I believe he was consoled enough in the end.”
John smirked rather wryly. “No doubt.”
Her cheeks colored again, and John realized belatedly how it could have been taken, and what it would imply about Hal’s parents.
Hardly a promising beginning for the pair of them as a couple.
“Say what you will about my parents,” Hal said quietly, her pencil flying across the page as she continued her sketch of him, “they were devoted to each other.”
John frowned at hearing that. “I know nothing of your parents, Hal.”
She continued to draw. “You never read the reports?”
“What reports?”
Her pencil paused, and she blinked, though she did not look up at him. “I thought everyone in the Offices knew my circumstances.”
“Then I must not be everyone,” he quipped, surprised that he could do so with lightness. He was usually too dry for such things, too serious for joviality, and too unsociable for easy conversation.
Yet here he was.
“It’s not a conversation for here.” Hal shook her head and straightened, cocking her head as she examined her drawing for a moment. “When the time is more appropriate, I’ll tell you about them.”
He nodded in full comprehension, though her words were innocent enough. He’d suspected that her family had ties to the covert operations in which they found themselves currently embroiled, and their present situation did not allow for the sort of sensitive information their story could contain.
“If you feel I should know,” he told her with a shrug of one shoulder. “I’ll not pry.”
“It’s not particularly personal,” she laughed. “Confidential, perhaps, but I have no qualms in sharing it. Particularly considering what we’re about to venture into, there are likely relevant details there.”
John exhaled, looking out across the Channel. “Interesting. Speaking of relevant details, care to share any information about the relations with which we will be staying?”
Again, Hal laughed, and this time she put aside her drawing completely to turn towards him. Clasping her hands around her knees, she settled more fully onto the rope coil. “The family name is de Rouvroy, and I’ve only just learned that he is a baron. Le baron is my mother’s first cousin. The title is not their legacy, but what was bestowed by Napoleon for services rendered. The family title was stripped in the Revolution, but they all kept their heads, so to speak.”
“How did they manage that?” John asked, bemused by the tone of entertainment his wife had taken on.
“Their loyalties lie with whoever is in power. You’ll find their living beyond what you would expect of a humble baron, and that is quite simply because of their convenient alliances. The house is the family estate going back hundreds of years. They move in particularly high circles, so as much as we hated it, going to Tilda was likely crucial to our success.” She made a face of disgust and shuddered.
John found himself chuckling at that. “I shall endeavor to see it as such, though I suspect it will have a bitter taste for quite some time.”
Hal nodded eagerly in agreement. “I fear we will be trotted out to court, and we must look like the sort of relations the baron would have.”
“Well,” he sighed in response, “investigating high circles is likely our best starting place as it is. Your cousin will probably have excellent connections for us to explore.”
“In all circles, I am sure,” Hal remarked dryly. She indicated several different levels with her hand, widening her eyes.
“All the better. I think we will have a need to see to those.” He folded his arms and glanced down at her. “How should we play this, Hal? And should I call you something other than Hal?