Page 73 of Henrietta

The Marquis – now feeling a trifle guilty he had succumbed to such a mischievous impulse – perceived a moment to be helpful.

‘I was one of his students,’ he claimed proudly.

Hetty closed her eyes briefly to summon patience.

‘Were you?’ Lady Allerton was much surprised, and Hetty did not blame her. Only two days before, Nicolet had amusingly announced his distaste for all book-reading. ‘Did you study Ancient Greek or archaeology?’

‘Ah – archaeology,’ Nicolet said slowly, the smile fading a little from his face. Plainly he had not thought his interjection through.

‘I did not know of this!’ Lady Davenport was rather outraged at the oversight.

‘A childhood interest, no more,’ Nicolet assured her.

Lady Allerton advised him not to hide his light under a bushel. ‘For such a great mind to take an interest in you as a child, I should think you must be rather gifted.’

‘My father does occasionally indulge the curiosity of those with a particular love of ancient history, however young,’ Hetty put in hastily.

‘This does not sound much like you, Henri,’ Mademoiselle de Nicolet said quizzically.

‘I am full of surprises,’ the Marquis said with a sage nod, adding with a philosophical air: ‘Much like the past, in a way.’

‘You ought to discuss this with the Grandduchess,’ Lady Davenport said thoughtfully.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Nicolet said weakly. ‘I shouldn’t wish to bore her.’

Hetty sent Nicolet a malicious smile as Lady Davenport assured him: ‘She adores the Classics! I was speaking to her just last week upon the topic, and was sadly unable to keep up – you will have no such difficultly, of course!’

Nicolet pulled a little at his cravat. ‘Oh, I don’t think …’

Trixie was becoming impatient. ‘But when did you meet Hetty?’

Somewhat contrarily, Nicolet’s nerves had calmed Hetty’s own. ‘My father often taught his students at the house,’ she put in quickly. ‘His lordship and I met on one such occasion.’ She gave a bracing and, she hoped, concluding sort of smile. ‘Our acquaintance grew from there.’

There were murmurs of vague interest from the room. Hetty breathed a sigh of relief to have made their way through unscathed.

‘Which is of course where the story takes a twist,’ Nicolet interposed – Hetty turned her head slowly to glare at him. He winked.

‘You exaggerate,’ she said, with a decided edge to her voice.

‘A turn, then.’

‘Whose story is this?’

‘Oh, you mustn’t squabble,’ Lady Allerton said, amused. ‘Recollect you are not children any more!’

‘I think I hear cheers beginning!’ Miss Corcott said excitedly.

The party rose as one to move towards the window, the story of the Marquis and Hetty’s meeting entirely forgotten – by all but one. Several parts of that story, Trixie mused, had not made in the least sense. As the rest of the party were craning their necks to try and spot the first of the carriages, she sidled up to the Marquis.

‘How wonderful that you should know Professor Clithero so well,’ she said to him.

‘Hmm? Oh yes! A splendid gentleman.’

‘Quite the character, though.’ Trixie’s eyes were close upon his face. ‘That beard!’

‘That beard,’ Nicolet echoed. ‘Aha, yes, that beard.’

He paused a moment as if lost in fond, bearded memories, and excused himself – citing a refill of his glass – before she could probe any further. This served to confirm Trixie’s building suspicion. The Professor did not, of course, have a beard. Trixie had once heard him and her father agree that any gentleman with pretensions to facial hair ought immediately to be clapped in irons.