‘You were right in what you thought,’ Emilie said after a moment. ‘You are young, Mistral, and it would be a pity to shut up anyone who is both young and pretty behind the high walls of a Convent.’

‘Pretty? Do you mean me?’ Mistral asked. ‘Oh, Aunt Emilie, do you really think so? I hoped I was, but I was never sure. I looked so different from the other girls.’

‘Didn’t they tell you you were pretty?’ Emilie enquired.

Two dimples appeared in Mistral’s cheeks.

‘Sometimes! But at other times they teased me because my hair was so fair. I was the only English girl in the Convent and the only one who was not a brunette.’

‘The only English girl!’ Emilie repeated. ‘Yes, Mistral, you are English, for your mother was English.’

‘And my father?’

Mistral asked the question quickly, and even as the words left her lips, she saw a shadow cross Emilie’s face and her expression change. The benevolent smiling Aunt who had been talking to her seemed to vanish, and instead there was a woman whose whole face seemed to be contorted.

Mistral had never seen hatred before, but she recognised it now, recognised it in the clenched lips, the narrowed eyes, the lines which seemed to accentuate everywhere until Emilie’s face was as hideous as a gargoyle. But even as Mistral gasped, even as she felt fear like a dark cloud rise within her, Emilie’s expression changed again.

‘We will not speak of your father,’ she said. ‘Not now. One day I will tell you about him, but for the moment there are other and more important things for us to do. You have come to live with me, Mistral, and I am glad to have you, but there is one thing that I must make clear – very clear – from the beginning. I expect obedience. You will obey me whether you understand the reason for my commands or whether you do not. You will obey me implicitly and without question from now onwards. Is that understood?’

Emilie’s voice was hard and once again Mistral felt a sensation of fear, but resolutely she put it from her.

‘Of course I will, Aunt Emilie. I have no wish to do anything else.’

‘That is good! Then I will tell you what we are about to do. Today we will order your clothes. I have sent for Madame Guibout, one of the best couturiers in Paris. She is expensive, but rightly so, for she was trained by Monsieur Worth who is patronised by the Empress Eugénie. She will make you all the clothes you need. Yes, your gowns will be expensive, but they will be flattering and, when you wear them, you will feel confident and assured of your power to attract attention.’

‘Oh, thank you, thank you, Aunt Emilie,’ Mistral breathed. ‘If you only knew how I have longed – ’

‘Let me continue,’ Emilie interrupted. ‘I have other things to tell you.’