‘It’s precisely because of those things that we need to tackle her. If we’re not careful, it won’t be the White Lady who’s haunting us but the duchess of St Savarin!’

‘Is that who she is?’ demanded Ronnie, impressed. ‘I thought she seemed a bit grand. Maybe she’d like to come to the wedding?’

‘No!’ chorused Nicky and Meredith in unison.

‘Right, you look for Margot,’ Meredith suggested, ‘and I’ll talk to Liam. What time has he kindly suggested the wine tasting?’ Nicky and Ronnie fortunately missed her ironic tone.

When Meredith set off to look for him, she found to her irritation that he was nowhere to be seen. The orderly rows of grapevines that ran in straight lines like cornrows on a holiday head, right down to the riverbank, were entirely empty.

The air was still and clear. Three in the afternoon always struck Meredith as the hottest part of the day, even in spring. She looked back towards the golden château with its broad stone terrace and four towers crowned by their russet tile roofs. ‘It’s all ours, Dad!’ she murmured, turning round to find Liam only a few feet away, intent on tying up a vine to its trellis.

‘The Chardonnay flowers have my favourite scent,’ he commented. She suspected he was trying to cover for having heard her words and save her from embarrassment, which oddly made her twice as angry. ‘Light and fresh, maybe a little citrus.’

‘Liam, I’d welcome it if you’d run it by us first rather than set up wine tastings for our guests,’ she told him firmly.

‘Fine.’ He stood ramrod straight, as if he’d once served in the army and she were the sergeant major. ‘To be honest, I only did it to head Margot off. She was trying to get them to come back to her house and have a drink with her and the duke. I wasn’t sure that was something you’d all welcome. Fraternizing with the enemy.’ He grinned suddenly and his face transformed from its usual craggy lines into something almost boyish. Meredith could see why Jo found him appealing, but really, that was a complication they could do without.

‘All right, let’s have it on the terrace,’ she suggested sharply.

He nodded. Was he suppressing a smile? Bloody man, he knew exactly what she was up to. Taking back control from an underling who’d overstepped the mark.

‘Since the wedding season is quite short . . .’ he began.

Meredith almost interrupted with a comment that they were looking at ways of lengthening it, but decided to listen. ‘Yes?’

‘You might consider wine tourism. It’s getting pretty big now, especially if you get any of your wines recognized by the Hachette Guide. Most of the châteaux round here do it. It’s a way of bringing in an income in winter.’