said, drawing herself up. “I merely wonder if you are indeed the heir to Egremont.”
“Well said,” Christian said. “It’s good to have things out in the open. I don’t blame you for doubtingme. But I am who I say I am, and I’ll prove it. It’s a shame I’ll have to do that through attorneys and law courts, because that makes it hostile, but it will be done.”
He bowed again and began to walk off, but Hammond stopped him. “Sauvage!” he said. “This makes no sense. We should talk.”
“Why, yes,” Christian said, as he turned around. “I’d like that. But I don’t want to keep the ladies standing here in the open. Tell you what,” he said, “the squire was right. The White Hart has a tolerable table. Would you care to meet me there for dinner?”
Hammond looked down at Sophie. She squirmed, frowned, but then raised her chin. “Should you care to come to dinner at our house, Mr. Sauvage?” she asked.
Whatever he had expected, it clearly wasn’t that. The smooth bland expression gave way to obvious surprise. Then a sudden smile illuminated his face. “Why, thank you, how kind,” he said. “I’d like that. Uhm, but would your parents, do you think?”
“It was in fact my father who suggested it,” she said grudgingly.
The sparkling eyes lit with laughter. “I see. Well, then”—he slewed a glance at Julianne—“I’d be delighted.”
“Tomorrow night then?” Sophie asked.
“Thank you. I look forward to it,” he said. He nodded and, smiling, strolled away.
They didn’t speak until he was out of earshot.
“That was well done,” Hammond told Sophie, as they walked on.
“There wasn’t anything else I could have done,” she said bitterly. “You maneuvered me into a corner.”
Julianne thought it was Christian Sauvage who had done that to both of them, but asked instead, “Why didn’t you introduce me?”
“Ham and I decided it would be better not to. This way, he won’t guess he should know you. When we do spring your name on him, we’ll do it in front of others, so we can judge his reactions more closely. And this way, too, you can judge him without him trying to influence you.”
“As for that,” Ham asked, “any impressions yet?”
“Well,” Julianne said slowly, thinking, “he doesn’t sound familiar. But his voice would obviously have changed. He speaks well, but not like someone from another country. I’d think he’d have picked up an accent from where he’d been so long.”
“He said his accent was set when he left,” Hammond said, “and New South Wales is hardly a country. There’ve only been people there for forty years or so. Of course it was inhabited by natives before that,” he corrected himself. “I mean civilized people.”
“I’d hardly call criminals ‘civilized,’” Sophie said with a sniff.
“Other settlers went there, too,” Hammond said. “Not many, I grant you. I’ve read Captain Cook’s accounts. It really isn’t much more than a penal colony even now, so there wouldn’t be a regional accent to the place.”
“And so far as his face,” Julianne said, thinking aloud, “the years change us all. No,” she shook herhead, “I’ll have to talk to him.” She wondered how she’d do that without that uncomfortable awareness of his attractiveness distracting her.
“That you shall,” Sophie said gaily. “Who knows? A chance word, a slip of the tongue, a memory recalled, anything like that might tell us more than a coachload of Bow Street runners. You may be the one to unmask him. I’m so glad you came, Cousin,” she added, giving Julianne a sunny smile.
Julianne was glad, too, though even now she didn’t know if she wanted to be the one to unmask the man who called himself Christian Sauvage. She was already wondering if she might uncover more than she bargained for.
“Isn’t this gown too elegant for a simple dinner?” Julianne asked as she gazed at herself in the looking glass. “If you really
“Well said,” Christian said. “It’s good to have things out in the open. I don’t blame you for doubtingme. But I am who I say I am, and I’ll prove it. It’s a shame I’ll have to do that through attorneys and law courts, because that makes it hostile, but it will be done.”
He bowed again and began to walk off, but Hammond stopped him. “Sauvage!” he said. “This makes no sense. We should talk.”
“Why, yes,” Christian said, as he turned around. “I’d like that. But I don’t want to keep the ladies standing here in the open. Tell you what,” he said, “the squire was right. The White Hart has a tolerable table. Would you care to meet me there for dinner?”
Hammond looked down at Sophie. She squirmed, frowned, but then raised her chin. “Should you care to come to dinner at our house, Mr. Sauvage?” she asked.
Whatever he had expected, it clearly wasn’t that. The smooth bland expression gave way to obvious surprise. Then a sudden smile illuminated his face. “Why, thank you, how kind,” he said. “I’d like that. Uhm, but would your parents, do you think?”
“It was in fact my father who suggested it,” she said grudgingly.
The sparkling eyes lit with laughter. “I see. Well, then”—he slewed a glance at Julianne—“I’d be delighted.”
“Tomorrow night then?” Sophie asked.
“Thank you. I look forward to it,” he said. He nodded and, smiling, strolled away.
They didn’t speak until he was out of earshot.
“That was well done,” Hammond told Sophie, as they walked on.
“There wasn’t anything else I could have done,” she said bitterly. “You maneuvered me into a corner.”
Julianne thought it was Christian Sauvage who had done that to both of them, but asked instead, “Why didn’t you introduce me?”
“Ham and I decided it would be better not to. This way, he won’t guess he should know you. When we do spring your name on him, we’ll do it in front of others, so we can judge his reactions more closely. And this way, too, you can judge him without him trying to influence you.”
“As for that,” Ham asked, “any impressions yet?”
“Well,” Julianne said slowly, thinking, “he doesn’t sound familiar. But his voice would obviously have changed. He speaks well, but not like someone from another country. I’d think he’d have picked up an accent from where he’d been so long.”
“He said his accent was set when he left,” Hammond said, “and New South Wales is hardly a country. There’ve only been people there for forty years or so. Of course it was inhabited by natives before that,” he corrected himself. “I mean civilized people.”
“I’d hardly call criminals ‘civilized,’” Sophie said with a sniff.
“Other settlers went there, too,” Hammond said. “Not many, I grant you. I’ve read Captain Cook’s accounts. It really isn’t much more than a penal colony even now, so there wouldn’t be a regional accent to the place.”
“And so far as his face,” Julianne said, thinking aloud, “the years change us all. No,” she shook herhead, “I’ll have to talk to him.” She wondered how she’d do that without that uncomfortable awareness of his attractiveness distracting her.
“That you shall,” Sophie said gaily. “Who knows? A chance word, a slip of the tongue, a memory recalled, anything like that might tell us more than a coachload of Bow Street runners. You may be the one to unmask him. I’m so glad you came, Cousin,” she added, giving Julianne a sunny smile.
Julianne was glad, too, though even now she didn’t know if she wanted to be the one to unmask the man who called himself Christian Sauvage. She was already wondering if she might uncover more than she bargained for.
“Isn’t this gown too elegant for a simple dinner?” Julianne asked as she gazed at herself in the looking glass. “If you really
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