" She feigned a sip of her wine. It was claret, not port. It was, she thought, very like Nicolas to travel with his own cellar into a region famed for its wines. “I shall always think of you as a friend.”
“Only a friend?” Nicolas arranged himself flatteringly at her feet. It was, Jane knew, a standard tableau, the young swain at the feet of his love.
She could speak her lines, or she could change the dialogue, throw him off balance. “Said the amorous shepherd to his love? Do get up, Nicolas. I’ve come to you on a serious matter.”
“What could be more serious than love?” But he rose all the same, drawing a chair to rest beside the divan. “If not for my so charming person, why are you here?”
While his eyes were fixed on her face, Jane turned her hand over her cup, releasing the hidden catch in her ring. “I’ve come for Queen Maria,” she said calmly.
Nicolas stared at her for a moment, his eyebrows rising to his carefully curled hair, and then he began to laugh. His laugh was one of his more charming attributes, a light tenor, and entirely unfeigned.
“Only you, my Jeanne. Only you. "

― Lauren Willig , The Lure of the Moonflower (Pink Carnation, #12)