“Is it true, what we have heard? Are you to wed Monsieur de Loisseau?”
“Oh, dearest Daphne, is he one of those who wishes my hand?” Olympe looked round. “There are so many, I cannot keep track.”
Jeanne blanched at her friend"s egotistical rejoinder, astonished when the group laughed in response.
“With such a wit it is no wonder they are lining up at your door,” the young man said, taking Olympe"s hand and brushing his lips across her translucent skin.
Olympe bowed. “Monsieur La Porte, Mademoiselle La Vienne, Mademoiselle de Chouard, pray say hello to Lynette, whom you all know, and to Jeanne, whom I should hope you remember.”
Jeanne recognized Daphne de Chouard from chapel, having seen her pray with great vehemence on more than one occasion.
“Ah, Mademoiselle La Marechal, a pleasure
