“Honestly,” I muttered, “it would be less trouble to do it oneself.” And I found a shantung evening dress that had miraculously escaped being melted by Queenie’s iron. The neck was rather high and the whole thing shapeless, dating back to the waistless days of the twenties, but I added a long string of pearls and anyway it was the best I could do. Oh, how I longed for bright red silk pajamas, preferably backless like the women were wearing at the casino last night. I wished I was small enough to fit into my mother’s clothes. I wished Chanel had already had the promised dress made for me. I’d have loved to see Jean-Paul’s face if I appeared looking divine. As it was, the best I could say for my appearance was that it was neat and respectable.

Jean-Paul showed no sign that he found me dull and dowdy, however. He gave me that enchanting smile as I came down the stairs to find him waiting in the front hall.

“You look ravishing, my lady,” he said.

“He means worth ravishing,” I thought I heard my mother mutter from the shadows. But out loud she said, “Have fun, my children. Take good care of her, Jean-Paul. She is under the protection of three formidable women, you know.”

“Don’t worry,” Jean-Paul said. “I shall treat her as if she were your own daughter.” And he gave me a wink that hinted that he had guessed the truth. Then he took my arm and helped me into the Voisin, which still had the top up. I wondered whether to mention the death of Sir Toby to him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do so. All I wanted was to put it from my mind.

“I thought we should go somewhere more private than Nice tonight,” he said. “I know this delightful little place at Beaulieu-sur-Mer. The chef cooks like an angel.”

It was a heady experience to arrive at L’Etoile Restaurant, perched on rocks right over the Med. Lights from moored yachts sparkled on the water, making a fairyland. Jean-Paul was received with the reverence of a royal visit.

“What an honor, Marquis. We have reserved your favorite table.” We were escorted to a table up some steps in an alcove off the main dining room. It was built out right over the water with windows all around. The lapping of waves came up to us, together with the fresh, slightly salty smell of the Mediterranean. Out across the bay, music was playing and the sound floated to us on a gentle breeze. I felt as if I were in a dream—exactly how Cinderella must have felt when she arrived at the ball in the glass slippers and the prince chose her out of all the girls in the room.