‘But not your own,’ Jo commented, hoping she wasn’t being too personal. The loss she could hear in his voice resonated with her own still-raw state.

He looked at her intensely for a moment. ‘No, not my own.’

He suddenly stooped, as if he needed to change the subject. He had noticed a single early rose, already blooming, and handed it to her with a bow. ‘At the risk of sounding clichéd – an English rose for an English rose.’

‘Thank you,’ Jo smiled. ‘But should you be picking the only rose in the garden?’

‘There’ll be others. Besides, don’t you believe in being bold?’

His meaning was so clear that Jo found herself flushing with anxiety that an attractive man should actually hint that she was desirable. How bloody stupid. What was the matter with her?

‘Look at that!’ He pointed to a pretty white flower with a bell-shaped bloom. ‘Convolvulus. One of the biggest menaces in the garden. It’ll strangle that rose if it gets the chance.’ He pulled the plant out, roots and all.

‘I’m afraid I’m not very good at flowers,’ Jo shrugged.

‘Bindweed,’ he explained, laughing at her. ‘You have plenty of that back in good old Blighty.’ He suddenly changed the subject. ‘Tell me about the English ladies who meet in the cafe. Are you in with that little lot?’

‘The Bratenac Ladies’ Luncheon Club? I’ve only just got here, but Steph says they’re much too inclusive for us. Why?’

‘Well, talking of bindweed – I glanced in there the other day, and it looked as if that Suzi woman was trying to wrap herself round your friend’s husband. She should keep an eye on him.’

‘Oh God,’ Jo panicked. ‘I thought David was the loyal type.’

‘We men are very easy to flatter.’

‘Does that include you?’ Jo was shocked to find that she was flirting. But then, how long had it been since a man had come her way who wasn’t married or a complete dick?

‘Absolutely. As I said, we are poor creatures.’

‘How long have you worked at the château?’ she asked.

‘Five years now. I would like to buy my own vineyard after this. Are you interested in wine?’

‘Apart from drinking it?’ she teased.

‘I would say as well as drinking it.’

‘As it happens, I am quite interested in the process of winemaking. I even spent a summer picking grapes when I was a student.’

‘Did you, now? I’m impressed. And did you enjoy it?’