Rupert stared at her blankly. “Taken the wrong sister? Well, I’ll be damned!” He shook his head. “Y’know, Léonie, that boy drinks too much. If this don’t beat all!”
“He wasn’t drunk, imbécile! At least,” added Léonie conscientiously, “I do not think he was.”
“Must have been,” said his lordship.
“I shall have to explain it all to you.” Léonie sighed.
At the end of her explanation his lordship gave it as his opinion that his nephew had gone stark, staring mad. “Does Avon know?” he asked.
“No, no, not a word! He must not, you understand, and that is why we are going to France at once.”
His lordship regarded her with profound suspicion. “Who’s going to France?”
“But you and I, of course!” Léonie replied.
“No, I’m not,” stated Rupert flatly. “Not to meddle in Vidal’s affairs. I’ll see him damned first, saving your presence.”
“You must,” Léonie said, shocked. “Monseigneur would not at all like me to go alone.”