“As I said, the Duke seems insensible to the advantage of an alliance with me.”
No wonder, I thought, but I took good care not to voice my feelings.
“I have decided to compel him to consent.”
“And Mademoiselle de Villars?” I questioned suspiciously.
“She also wishes it. I may say”—he simpered disgustedly—“she is more anxious than I.”
“Monsieur du Trémigon,” I said sternly, repressing with difficulty an inclination to kick him, “do you assure me of the truth of what you have said?”
“Certainly.”
“On your word of honor as a gentleman?”
“As a gentleman and as a noble of France, Monsieur.”
I ought to have known, but I did not, and there seemed to be nothing for me to do but accept his statement.