Desiree rose and offered him her hand. Taking lightly hold of her fingers, Ignatius bent over them before straightening.
“So you will sing for us at our next gathering?”
She asked sweetly enough, but Ignatius believed he detected something sour.
“I am sure my lady has a much prettier voice.” He tried to wriggle out of the suggestion.
“With tones to silence all the birds in these here parts,” a booming voice broke in.
Turning his head a little to gaze past Desiree, Ignatius saw Jacques standing in the doorway. The man held the doors open on either side, his bulk eclipsing the light streaming in behind him. Good God. He quite filled up the entrance.