I knew him. There was a certain dispassion, a certain reluctance to Belmont’s words… And that frown—that was indeed a far cry from the friendly camaraderie with which Chrétien had written about Jacques. His polite look turned curious, and he glanced down, nervousness betraying him somewhat.
“My brother has not been in contact with the family for some time, and my father… my father is in poor health. When we last heard from him, Chrétien had planned to travel to England.” Lucien looked up again, meeting Jacques’s gaze; his tone was sincere. “He spoke of you several times in his letters. I was wondering if you would – perhaps – have any news of his whereabouts.”
There was nothing as effective as being direct, at least in this matter, although it did seem as if Chrétien and Jacques were not quite the revolutionary brothers Lucien had thought they might be.