Fine. Fine, all right, then. Pretty girls telling him to sit down and hey, who was he to argue? "Just a bit of shock," he attempted to reassure, but he eased himself down anyway. It wasn't like he wasn't already covered head to toe in dirt and soot. Given the circumstances, he was really just grateful to not be dead. Oh, he'd been determined to die a damned good death. Going out proud and strong and his head help high. But hey, if he was going to wind up in America instead...
"America?" he blurted, his eyes widening. So that explained the accents he'd heard. Odd, though. He knew they'd come a long way since the colonies. But the accent still didn't sound British in the slightest. Perhaps the acquisition of Louisiana had blended their voices somehow. And, just in case, he continued speaking English. Her accent could have come from most anywhere if they really were in America. Kansas wasn't familiar to him, but geography wasn't his best study. History, politics, languages...those things that would...well, would have gotten him ahead in the world, those were his subjects of choice.
Enjolras rubbed at his temples, taking a few steadying breaths before looking up at the pretty brunette again. "All right... America. Only I do not know how I ended up in America at all. I was in Paris. That is not exactly a jump that can be made easily." That was hardly a train ride to Calais or even a ship's journey to England. America was an entire ocean away. Even the fastest ship would've taken weeks and he knew he couldn't have been unconscious for that long.
Shaking himself, he got back to his feet, refusing to look less than gentlemanly when introducing himself to a lady. He reached for her hand, bowing slightly over it. "Bonjour, Belle. I am Enjolras. If I must be rescued by a girl, I feel I could have done much worse for myself."