"Very true." The vicomte's eyes narrowed. "There has always been some rivalry between us. He knows the danger, yet he does not act because he suspects how I feel about you."

"What danger?"

"The king's agenda is of tremendous importance and secrecy. If Desjardins feels it is necessary to remove you, he will do so. If Saint-Martin cared as much for you as you do for him, he would end your affair to protect you."

"I do not care." Her hand lifted to cover her roiling stomach. Her protests would mean nothing when pitted against the will of the king. "I would be miserable without him. Better to stay and enjoy what I can, while I can, than to leave and have nothing."

"I can give you all that you have lost." He stepped closer.

"I have gained more."

"Have you?" His jaw tightened. "You have lost your family, friends, and social standing. You have no life beyond these walls, waiting to serve the pleasure of a man to whom you are a peripheral indulgence. I have seen what happens to the women he discards; I could not bear to witness a similar end for you."

"You offer the same," she snapped.

"No, I offer my name."

Marguerite felt the room spin and reached out to grip the carved wooden edge of the settee. "Go. Now."

"I would wed you," he said, his voice low and earnest. "I am being sent to Poland for a time. You would come with me. There is safety there and the opportunity to begin your life anew."

She shook her head, wincing as it throbbed with painful pressure. "Please leave."

De Grenier's fists clenched at his sides, then he bowed in a fluidly graceful motion. "I leave in a sennight. Should your feelings on the matter change between now and then, come to me." His shoulders went back, drawing her attention to the breadth of them. "In the interim, ask Saint-Martin to reveal the gravity of the situation you both face. If you know him as well as you believe, you should see the truth of what I have told you."