Jacques blushed at the hand on his arm. He cursed himself for it, but it did nothing to return his complexion to the proper hue. "France is France, and I shall never be as happy outside of my country as in it. I suppose it is something of an odd sentiment, but...." Jacques lifted a shoulder in a shrug.
"Scotland? I have not been there. Aside from a brief visit to find illegal emigres in Kent, I have been in London since arriving from Dover. It is... north, I believe? It must be very cold."