Her suspicions confirmed, Alysson favored the elderly gentleman with an accusing smile. Actually her great-uncle, Honoré Larousse was the brother of her late French grandmother who, as an emigr6, had fled the terror of the French revolution. Of her three uncles, he was her favorite.
"Will you forgive me," Alysson inquired politely of the other guests, "for stealing my uncle away?" Slipping her arm through Honor's, she drew him aside. "You have been hiding from me, haven't you?"
Blustering a denial, he tried to change the subject. "How can it be that you are all alone?" Honorf asked in French. "A moment ago there were a dozen young bucks vying for your attention. Never tell me Gervase has abandoned you."
"I've only been alone for a moment, Uncle," Alysson replied in the same language. Her schoolgirl French had progressively improved over the years, due to the summers she'd spent with Honoré in France, and she found it easy now to respond fluently. "The prince required Gervase's attention on some matter, and his officers went with them. But you know that isn't what I wanted to discuss with you. You promised to give me your answer tonight, remember?"
"So I did." His heavy white brows drew together in a scowl as he tried unsuccessfully to stare her down. Alysson met his gaze calmly, trying not to laugh. It was obvious her uncle wanted to avoid a scolding.
"You look in need of refreshment," he stated, avoiding giving her an answer. Hastily, he retrieved two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and pressed one on his niece. Lifting his own glass to his lips, Honoré took a swallow and grimaced. "Merde!"
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sp; Alysson had expected his reaction. A vintner of the highest reputation, her uncle deplored wine that was not of the first quality. And this was both bitter and slightly flat.
"Take heart, Uncle," she soothed. "In only a few years you will be able to savor your own vintages." Honoré meant to expand his Bordeaux vineyards by purchasing property in the French colonial province. Land here was plentiful and cheap, now that the war with the Arabs was virtually over. Later he hoped to build a winery to carry on the tradition of his forebearers.
"If I can survive on this pap till then," he complained.
"The sooner you begin, the sooner your plans will come to fruition."
"Tomorrow is soon enough."
"Ah, yes . . . tomorrow. Shall we discuss our expedition, then?"
Tomorrow they would set out for the fertile coastal plain where her uncle meant to establish his new vineyards. A practical businessman, Honoré insisted on viewing the land before making the final commitment to buy.
Alysson would accompany her uncle only because she refused to be left behind. But the real contention between them was rooted in her determination to travel beyond the settled areas. After visiting the prospective property, Alysson wanted to journey further south, into the interior of the province. She had been eager for such an expedition for years. She'd once seen the works of the painter Delacroix, who had traveled through Algeria. Ever since, she'd longed to explore this rugged country for herself. Her Uncle Honoré, on the other hand, couldn't care less about exploration or adventure.
Alysson didn't understand his attitude, any more than he understood hers. "Don't you wish to know anything about the land you mean to setde?" she asked curiously.
Honoré shook his head with adamance. "No. Absolutely not. I cannot see how it will make the least difference to my vineyards whether or not I see the desert. Very likely such a journey will prove detrimental to my health, and yours, too, my dear. And I am not the least interested if the natives can stand on their heads or dance naked on their camels. They can keep their barbaric customs to themselves."
"Uncle, they don't stand on their heads . . ." Her exasperation nearly got the better of her. Trying another tack, Alysson softened her tone to a plea. "What about our bargain? Come, Uncle, you must give me due credit. I have been a perfect angel for ages. I've allowed Gervase to pay me court, just as you wanted me to—"
"You have not agreed to marry him."
It was Alysson's turn to frown. "That was not our bargain."
"Perhaps. But how can you fall in love with the fellow if you do not see him for months on end?"
"We will only be gone for a few short weeks, Uncle. And I've told you before, this journey will have no bearing on my decision to marry Gervase."
Honors gave her a penetrating look. "If I refuse to go, no doubt you will proceed without me."
"I wouldn't like to act against your wishes, but yes . . . I would consider making the trip alone."
"Well, I suppose I cannot let you travel such a distance by yourself." His dark eyes took on a mischievous gleam. "Perhaps then it is fortunate that I have already made the arrangements."
Alysson stared at her uncle at length. As the truth slowly dawned on her, her lips curved into a smile. "You, mon oncle, are a complete fraud. You meant to go all along."
Honoré chuckled, looking pleased with himself. "Do not tell Gervase, I beg you. He will not be happy that I am abetting this flaw in your character."
"No, of course not. He can blame me for corrupting you." Preferring not to dwell on Gervase's concern, she let her eager thoughts race ahead to the morrow. "We should get an early start in the morning, if you can bear it."
"I have already promised I would, have I not?"
"Yes," Alysson said, "but I wasn't sure you meant it."