He hesitated. “I shouldn’t have waited,” she said. Her gown was minimalist compared to those concoctions of boning and lace of long ago, she reflected, but that did not stop it from getting caught on 134 brambles and twigs. Lucy tried not to make her cringe noticeable. Anna was not “Alcide” of the “Ambassador’s,” whose subtly demure smile and piquant glances had called him to her side from the moment of their first meeting. She moved a little nearer to him. ‘Madame, I trust I see you well?’ ‘Merci. “If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand.
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