In the midst of war, in the face of her husband’s cruelty, Lisette found a love so pure and beautiful that sometimes she could scarcely breathe from the sheer wonder of it. She refused to feel regret or guilt for loving Hank Watkins. She had never felt such pleasure and delight in a man’s company, in his touch, in the intimacy they shared.

She tried to seem normal as she went about her day, but it was hard to keep the smile from her face, the light from her eyes, the color from her cheeks. Her mother kept asking her if she had a fever, or if she had been drinking. Lisette said it was because of the secret news no one was supposed to know about—that the Allies had invaded France in the north, and it was only a matter of time before they came to the south.

She continued to visit Hank as often as she dared, only now her visits were deeply satisfying assignations. She took pictures, because she never wanted to forget him, but she hid the film in order to keep their secret. She promised it would not be developed until the war was over.

Didier seemed preoccupied with his German friends and took no notice of her at all. She was surprised one day in August when he and his sister, Rotrude, approached her in the kitchen garden, their faces grim.

“When did you plan to tell me about the baby?” he demanded without preamble.

The shock of his question took her breath away. She felt as if every drop of blood had drained into the floor. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t be coy,” said Rotrude with a mean twist of a smile. “Why wouldn’t you share this joyous news with everyone?”

“Because it’s not . . . I’m not . . .” But she was. She had known for the past week. Her menses had always been as regular as the phases of the moon, and only a few days after a missed period, she knew.

“You’ve thrown up your breakfast every morning for a week,” Rotrude said.

Didier pinched Lisette’s breast so hard that she cried out in pain. “My sister tells me the breasts are tender during pregnancy.”

She turned away, hugging herself, her heart pounding in panic. Then, deep within her core, a steely spike of courage formed. “Then instead of bullying the mother of your child,” she said, “you should take pride, because finally there will be an heir for Sauveterre, just as you’ve always wanted.”

Rotrude stepped in. “Will you let her lie to you like that?” she demanded. “Your first wife never conceived. You’ve fucked every housemaid and fieldworker in the place, and have never managed to make a baby. What makes you think this one is yours?”

“Because he is the lord of Sauveterre and the mayor of Bellerive,” Lisette said, praying his pride would supersede suspicion. The lie made her sick, but to do otherwise would doom not only her, but her parents. And without her, Hank would likely die in the wilderness.