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sincerely for helping me, sir – but if you hope for more you shall be sadly disappointed.’
                  ‘Please excuse me, I shall take these things to my room.  At what hour do we dine?’
                  ‘At the hour of three and thirty, sir.’
                  ‘Ah, country hours.’ Moraven smiled.  ‘I have business I must attend but I shall return in good time.  I am promised a good fish soup and already my stomach growls.’
                  ‘I have cheese and bread if you need something to sustain you until then.’
                  ‘No, I think not,’ he said, then laughed and moved towards her with lightning speed.  She was in his arms, his mouth caressing hers before she guessed what he was about.  ‘There, that shall sustain me until we dine…’
                  Constance was left to gasp and fume inwardly as he swept up his bags and left to take them upstairs.
                  Damn the man!  For two pins she would send him packing – and yet he had saved her from a terrible fate and she would feel safer with him here.  Besides, he needed a place to stay until he could transfer his funds from England and she owed him that at least.
                  But if he imagined that his kiss had changed her mind about becoming his mistress he would soon discover his mistake.  Fighting the heat that suffused her body and the strange feeling spreading through her lower regions, Constance picked up her basket and went into the kitchen to prepare their meal.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Four
     
    Moraven was fuming inwardly as he went to meet his contact.  Although to all intents and purposes he had a free hand in his dealings with the French spy, he was not alone.  Far from it in fact!  His contact was an important diplomat, a member of the English network of secret agents.  Outwardly, a small but important cog of the ambassador’s staff, he was here to speak with Moraven about the progress he had made in tracing a formidable adversary. There were also a dozen sleepers at Moraven’s disposal, on whom he could call if necessary.  However, he preferred to work alone for the most part.
                  ‘It is a good day for walking, monsieur,’ his contact gave the signal that all was clear as Moraven took his seat at the open-air café.  ‘Do you care for a cognac?’
                  ‘Thank you, monsieur, I prefer wine,’ Moraven replied and signalled the waiter, who brought him a flagon of the house wine.  ‘The fox is out of his lair but has yet to break cover.’
                  ‘Have you need of the hounds?’
                  ‘I have a lure.  I may need the hounds when my fox breaks cover, but for the moment I hunt alone.’
                  ‘Good fortune with your hunting, monsieur.  If there is anything you need…?’
                  ‘Ten thousand francs into my account.’
                  ‘That is a large sum?’
                  ‘Hunting is an expensive pastime.’
                  ‘I’m not certain I can raise that much, perhaps five immediately – more later if necessary.’
                  Moraven drank a glass of wine, pulled a wry face and stood up.  ‘It will do for the moment,’ he said, threw a few coins on the table and walked away.
                  He was owed that ten thousand and more for past services but he had asked nothing before this and the money was not for him.  Moraven had already arranged a transfer of funds for his own uses, but since he was using Constance and the nuns as bait to draw out the traitor he saw no reason for them not to benefit.  He would personally see to Constance’s future, because he was confident of winning her over in time, and Sister Helen’s little band