Sorry to have troubled her with a topic begun in innocence, Jane began to frame a more profuse apology, wishing to switch to English just for the moment. Instead, Anne-Marie held up a hand mirror to show the back of Jane’s head. ‘There, Madam. Does that please you?’

It pleased Jane enormously. Dressing alone, she could never manage to tease her hair into anything so nicely arranged. ‘Anne-Marie! You are a treasure. I have always thought my hair unmanageable.’

‘I was at court for a time.’ Anne-Marie set the irons by the hearth to cool. ‘You would not believe the horrors I saw there, so please trust me when I say that your hair is lovely. One merely needs to know the trick of coaxing it.’

Jane did not quite believe that mouse-brown could ever be lovely, but saw no need to press the point. When Vincent came in, she excused Anne-Marie and attended to tying his cravat for him.

Venturing to continue using French with her husband, Jane asked, ‘Have you had a pleasant afternoon?’

He did not seem to notice her efforts, instead slipping smoothly into the language. ‘Somewhat. No success in finding a glassblower yet.’ He lifted his chin to allow her easier access. ‘And you?’

‘Anne-Marie has helped me practice French.’ She stepped back to admire the effect and decided that it would do. ‘Where did you learn to speak so fluently?’

‘We had a tutor who was an émigré. Mistakes were not tolerated.’ This was one more reminder of his life as an earl’s son, which he had abandoned for his art.

Together, they descended the stairs to wait in the parlour for the guests to arrive. Stomach twisting with dread, Jane managed to use her French to greet those to whom she was introduced, and learned to ignore the raised brows at her mispronunciations and mangled tenses. The purpose, she reminded herself, was to be understood, not to pass as a native. Even were she fluent, her dress would mark her as English, for the fashions had moved in different directions during Napoleon’s reign, when communication between the two countries had been at a standstill. English waist-lines had begun to drop back to the natural waist, while French waists had remained high, and the decorations and embellishments here had a noted emphasis on lace, for which Belgium was justly famed. When Jane was introduced to Mme Meynard, she had a moment of coveting the belle’s beautiful Pomona green gown with blond lace embellishments.

Jane soon realized that conversation was not so hard as she had thought it might be because at a party such as this one merely repeated the same topics again and again with different partners. How are you? Fine weather. Are you staying long?