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That was preferable. Hearts were fragile. If they weren’t, his would have mended by now. But after his father’s and Natalie’s deaths, his heart seemed to have broken permanently.

“I’m still tart-tongued, however,” Eve added with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Aye, that’s true,” James said.

“Quiet!” he and Eve ordered the lad together. Then they shared a rueful smile.

“How is Natalie?” Eve asked, then coughed again. “I would have paid a call on her before now, but … well … between our arrival in England, and trying to get my stepmother and half brother settled here—”

“Oh, right. I forgot. You and your family were détenus.” He was delaying the moment when he had to tell her Natalie was gone, but who could blame him? His sister had been very close to Eve.

“You know about the détenus?” she said, looking surprised. “Many Englishmen have no idea.”

“Natalie used to read your letters from Verdun aloud at the dinner table—at least until Napoleon cut off all communications between England and France. And I also happen to be acquainted with another détenu—the Duke of Falconridge.” When she looked blank, he added, “You might have known him as Lord Jonathan Leighton. He became duke after his father and brothers died while he was detained in France. He only learned of his new title upon his return.”

After eleven years in a detainee camp. It still astonished him that Napoleon had kept civilian Englishmen—and women and children—captive for eleven years once the Peace of Amiens abruptly ended.

“Oh, yes!” she said brightly. “Lord Jonathan was the one who introduced my father to my French stepmother in Verdun.”

“Ah.” From what he’d heard, it hadn’t been unusual for détenus to make new French friends in Verdun. And her father had already been a widower back when Noel had known Eve.

Suddenly, he realized they were drawing a crowd. “Can I accompany you and your brother anywhere?” He found himself loath to end the conversation … because of her connection to Natalie, of course. Nothing more.

What a liar he was. When she looked hesitant, he added, “It will give us a chance to catch up.”

“In that case, we were just on our way to Lincoln’s Inn Fields when I stopped to talk to a friend, and my brother decided to disappear on me.”

“I’m right here,” James said sullenly.

“And you will stay beside me until we get to the square, you little rascal.”

“Stay beside us,” Noel said, offering her his arm and foolishly praying she’d take it. When she did, he let out the breath he’d been holding.

They began to walk, with James trudging along beside his sister. She coughed into her handkerchief a couple of times, tearing at his equilibrium.

When she got her coughing under control, she said, “You haven’t yet told me about Natalie and how she is.”

Damn. She had him all out of sorts. And he was never out of sorts.

He dragged in a harsh breath. It felt wrong, cruel somehow, to tell her of Natalie’s consumption when she seemed to be fighting a similar affliction. But he had to say something. “I suppose I should have mentioned it sooner, but Natalie died two years ago this Epiphany of … an illness.”

“Oh no! That is awful!” Eve stopped short to stare at him, her shocked expression showing she truly meant it. “How your parents must have suffered!”

Not quite ready to admit his father was dead, too, he said, “It has been hard on our family.”

She seemed to notice the stiffness of his words. “Forgive me. I’m sure it was hard on you as well as your parents. I know you and Natalie weren’t close, but—”

“Eleven years is a long time, Miss Archer. Natalie and I became closer as she got older.” And sicker. He forced a smile. “We had little choice in the matter since you were no longer around to be her friend, through no fault of your own, of course.”

Tears glittered in Eve’s eyes. “I missed her so much in Verdun, and now I shall never see her again.”

The sorrow in her voice was unmistakable, and it touched him deeply. “We would have written you, but we’d already heard that Napoleon had stopped the flow of mail between our two countries. So there seemed no point.”

They walked a few moments in silence. Then she shivered, and he realized she shouldn’t be out here so flimsily dressed.

“Take my greatcoat,” he said, shrugging it off. “It’s deuced cold out here.”

She hesitated, then allowed him to put it on her. She had such a fresh, clean scent—some sort of citrus was involved, he would guess. And how thin she seemed. Was it because she didn’t eat enough or was that just her natural shape?