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‘Yes, I agree,’ he said, then stopped as they came face-to-face with a tall, broad-shouldered man who might once have been handsome, but whose features had become flabby with good living. Instead of moving to one side to allow them to pass, he stood, feet apart, in front of Jay and laughed. ‘Well, well, if it isn’t John Drymore,’ he said in English. ‘You are a long way from home, Drymore. Feeling brave, were you? Did you think you were safe from me in Paris?’
Jay’s face was stony. ‘Out of the way, Wentworth, and let us pass.’
‘Wentworth,’ Lisette gasped.
‘That is my name,’ the stranger said. ‘Gerald Wentworth à votre service, madame.’ To Jay he said, ‘Are you not going to present me to your friend?’
Jay, who had been staring at the man with loathing, turned to Lisette. ‘Elizabeth, this is—’
‘I think I know who he is,’ she said. ‘But does he know me?’
‘I am afraid I do not have that honour,’ he said.
She turned to Jay. ‘Tell him.’
‘My wife, Mrs Drymore. Elizabeth, Mr Gerald Wentworth,’ Jay said tersely. ‘Now will you allow us to pass?’
‘Your wife, eh? Well, I never.’ He stepped to one side, removed his tall hat and gave Lisette an elaborate bow. ‘Good day to you, Mrs Drymore. No doubt we will meet again ere long.’ He went off, chuckling to himself.
‘Why did you not tell him the truth?’ Lisette said when she and Jay were out of earshot.
‘Because you are in Paris using a pseudonym and it is as well to maintain it to everyone. You never know who might be listening.’
‘But if my guess is right, he is my uncle.’
‘I was under the impression you had no love for your English relatives.’
‘Nor have I. I was curious to know what his reaction might be on learning my identity.’
‘No doubt he would find it comical.’
‘You dislike him, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘You once said you would tell me why one day. I think that day has come, don’t you?’
‘Perhaps, but I cannot speak of it in the street and I have arranged to meet Pierre Martin later. We will talk this evening.’
At last, she was going to find out what made Jay Drymore the serious, uncompromising man he was, and perhaps she would be able to soften him. She tucked her hand under his elbow as any wife might, half-expecting him to move away, but instead she felt a slight squeeze. That was a good sign, surely?
They were almost at the entrance to the Embassy when they were accosted by a miserable-looking beggar dressed in dirty rags. Old and bent, his hair was unkempt and his face filthy. The only bright thing about him was his red cap. When he grinned at them he showed blackened teeth. Lisette shuddered at the sight of him, especially when he caught hold of Jay’s coat. ‘A sou for a drink, citizen,’ he whined. ‘I’ve had not a sup all day.’
Jay reached into his pocket and handed over a small coin. The man bit into it and began to laugh. It was such a curiously joyful sound for one in such dire straits that Lisette found herself staring at him in puzzlement. ‘The devil it is to get you to part with money, my friend,’ he said to Jay in perfect English. ‘I shall keep it as a souvenir.’
‘Harry! You devil!’ Jay’s eyes lit with pleasure. ‘Where did you spring from?’
‘I have just arrived from Calais. Speaking of that drink…’
Jay looked about him. There was no one in the street. He ushered Lisette and then Harry into the Embassy and shut the door. The bent old beggar stood upright; he was even taller than Jay. He was not old either, being in his early fifties, and his eyes, which had seemed dull, gleamed with intelligence and humour.
‘Lisette, this is Lord Portman,’ Jay said. ‘I am sure you have heard my father mention his name. Harry, meet Miss Giradet, though for the moment she is known as Mrs Drymore.’
‘How do you do, Mrs Drymore.’ He executed a flourishing bow, which was so incongruous set against his rags that she burst out laughing. ‘You like my disguise?’ he queried.
‘It is very convincing,’ she said. ‘How do you do it?’
‘I once trod the boards with Jay’s grandmother when I was a mere stripling and played many roles, even old men. Alas, I am no longer a stripling, but I can still play a part.’
Sam came into the hall from the back of the house. ‘I thought I heard voices…’ He stopped suddenly. ‘Lord Portman. Well, I’ll be damned.’
‘I did not deceive you then, Sam?’
‘I have seen you in too many guises, my lord, to be taken in.’
