Free A Place of Storms by Sara Craven

of my own countrymen was living on the, doorstep.'
    He shrugged. 'All the more reason to keep the matter quiet, maybe.'
    She slammed the spoon back on to the table. 'Of all the damned nerve…' she began heatedly. 'Just what are you implying?'
    'That whatever your past indiscretions may have been,
ma belle
, I would prefer the behaviour of the future Madame Levallier to remain—impeccable.'
    There was a brief silence. 'You're very insulting,' she said unevenly.
    'Why? Because I refer openly to things you have yourself made no secret of?' He glanced at her, brows slightly raised. 'Now calm yourself and eat your soup. You are already too thin.'
    'Oh, am I?' She found fresh fuel for her indignation. 'I'm so sorry that I don't find favour with you, Monseigneur. No doubt you're a connoisseur in such matters.'
    'Don't allow it to distress you,
ma mie
,' he said almost kindly. 'I am sure, without your clothes, you would have a certain appeal.'
    'But not to you, of course,' she said, her voice shaking with rage.
    'I wasn't aware you wished to appeal to me in that way,
mademoiselle.
' He reached out and poured some wine into her glass. 'However, if you wish to judge my reactions, you could always take your clothes off.'
    'And you could go to hell!' She pushed the soup plate away from her, spilling some of its contents on to the white cloth.
    'I think I have been there already.' His voice was suddenly so harsh that she was startled out of her anger. There was a long pause, and then he said almost conversationally, as if the last few minutes had never existed, 'And what was your impression of our young historian?'
    'He seems to know a fair bit about his subject.' She forced herself to answer in the same vein. 'He soon left me behind—I'm afraid the Gallic Wars weren't a particular strong point of mine at school,' she added hurriedly,
a, la mode de
Clare.
    'No?' He looked at her sardonically. 'Well, perhaps Roman military tactics have only a limited appeal. But Caesar might have taught you one thing,
ma mie
. We Auvergnats make bad enemies. Maybe you should remember that.'
    Andrea did not enjoy her dinner, although the escalopes of veal Madame Bresson served, accompanied by courgettes and potatoes fried with onions, were quite delicious. By the time the housekeeper came to clear the table, her one thought was of escape.
    'Where are you going?' Blaise's voice halted her as she made for the door.
    'To my room.' There was an unconscious appeal in her hazel eyes as she turned to face him. 'I—I'm rather tired.'
    'Sit down, please.' He indicated the settle. 'I want to talk to you.'
    What she wanted didn't matter, of course, she thought stormily, but she was too weary to face another battle, so she walked over obediently and seated herself, gazing down into the leaping flames in the hearth.
    'What did you want to say to me?' she asked eventually, when he showed no sign of breaking the silence.
    'First, I want to give you this.'
    She looked up and saw that he was holding out a small velvet-covered box towards her. She took it mechanically and opened it. The ring reposing on the satin bed inside it almost took her breath away. It was obviously very old, and the magnificent ruby which formed its centrepiece was surrounded by diamonds, like glittering petals clinging to some exotic crimson flower.
    'What is it?' she gasped.
    'It's the betrothal ring of the Levallier family,' he said with a certain impatience. 'Put it on.'
    'No.' She closed the lid of the box with fingers that shook.
    His eyes narrowed dangerously. 'Have the goodness to obey me.'
    'I—I can't wear it.' Her throat tightened convulsively. 'You have no right to ask such a thing.'
    'We will discuss the exact scope of my rights where you are concerned at a more convenient time,' he said icily. 'You are my future wife, and you will wear my ring.'
    'But it's sheer hypocrisy,' she protested miserably. 'We don't have that kind of relationship. This ring's a—a love token.'
    He stifled a