‘That’s what I tell myself,’ Meredith grinned, ‘but somehow I don’t seem to be listening.’

‘But you don’t know the first thing about it!’

‘Not now, I don’t,’ agreed Meredith fatefully. ‘But how hard can it be to plan a few weddings?’

Four

Steph and Jo both stared at their friend in astonishment.

Meredith started to giggle, something she’d hardly ever done since their schooldays. ‘Your faces! I’ve never seen anyone’s jaw actually drop like that before . . . Look, I know this is probably insane. But I’ve been feeling so different since I got here. I hadn’t realized how much I was grieving for my father until I came to Bratenac; I had some kind of locked-in syndrome where I couldn’t feel anything. I was frozen. And because of the nature of my work, I didn’t even realize it. But this is a real place, full of real people. I know that sounds corny. And on top of that, it’s the place my dad loved. I feel at home here. This may be the biggest mistake of my life, but tant pis as the French say – I’m going to have a go. Look, it may never happen. Buying a place like this will be a complicated business – but then I’m a pretty effective businesswoman!’

She shrugged in a convincingly Gallic way, to reinforce that very French sentiment of ‘never mind’. Risks needed to be taken and if you failed, what the hell? And somehow, the way Meredith said it, you believed her.

‘But that’d mean you’d be just down the road!’ The thought suddenly dawned on Steph.

The duchess, who had disappeared into the bowels of the château, re-emerged with a tall, elegant woman in an unmistakably couture dress – Meredith guessed it was Givenchy – and heels as high as the duchess’s own. It was hard to guess how old she was, though hadn’t Steph said something about her being eighty? She had that timeless elegance only the French seemed able to achieve. Another French expression, jolie laide, came into Meredith’s mind. Literally ‘pretty-ugly’, but in practice it meant striking rather than conventionally pretty or beautiful. The newcomer was certainly that.

‘Mesdames, may I introduce you to Héloise d’Aubigny?’ the duchess announced. ‘Héloise organizes all our weddings here. She becomes a best friend and mentor to our brides during this wonderful but stressful process.’

Joanna glanced at Héloise, with her haute couture and her chilly expression, and found herself thinking, Poor brides!

‘Perhaps, mesdames, you would like to hear about the arrangements we offer at the Château de St Savarin?’