‘I shall give it to my husband.’ Jane took the key, intending to put it somewhere safe until Vincent was next home. And yet, it would be simplicity itself to open the desk, take out his address book, and send Herr Scholes the drawing herself. She need not examine anything else inside, and after all, Vincent had said he was hiding things from M. Chastain’s servants, not from her.

But even as she had that thought, she knew that, far beyond the impropriety of writing to a man to whom she had never been introduced, opening the desk would be a very real breach of Vincent’s trust. Her curiosity begged her to use the key, but Jane set it resolutely in the drawer of the table and pushed the desk farther from her.

Even so, every time she lifted her head from the page to reference the glass Sphère, the writing desk beckoned as a tempting distraction from her purpose. What did Vincent keep so carefully concealed within it?

This would not do. Jane gathered up her drawing things and wrapped the sphere in a length of velvet to safeguard it. Going out of doors would remove her from temptation and offer her an opportunity for fresh air. Thus armed with a purpose she stood, aware of how much her back ached.

She must have moaned, for Anne-Marie came to her side quickly. ‘Madame, are you well?’

‘I have been sitting for too long.’ To turn the conversation from her own frailty, Jane made comment on the first thing she noticed. A pretty pendant of a bumblebee, which hung from a slender chain at Anne-Marie’s throat. ‘What a cunning bee. Where did you get it?’

Anne-Marie blushed deeply, and tucked the bee into her dress so it was out of sight. ‘A young man.’

‘Would this be a certain lieutenant I saw you walking with?’

Anne-Marie’s flushed cheeks confirmed Jane’s guess. ‘Please do not mention him.’ Anne-Marie patted her chest as if to make certain the bee were truly concealed. ‘I could lose my place.’

‘Over having a beau!’ Jane shook her head. ‘Well, it is not unheard of for masters to have that rule, though I cannot say that I approve. You have my silence on the matter.’

‘Thank you, madame.’

Jane went down to the courtyard with her bundle and headed for a stone bench which stood near the studio. With the sun shining on it, it made a pleasant place to sit for an afternoon. She unwrapped the Sphère and settled herself there, her sketchbook open on her lap. The sunlight illuminated all of the faults they had introduced into the otherwise flawless glass so they stood out with perfect clarity. The path the glamour should take almost glowed in the light, and she could see it even without adjusting her sight. What, then, had caused it to fail?