“In here, Madame.” The assistant opened a beautifully carved walnut door, and ushered her into Lazard’s office.

It was tastefully decorated. Sophie had an eye for these things. She took in the soft, royal blue carpet, the cream-coloured walls, the mahogany desk lined with unexpected navy leather in place of the usual burgundy or forest green. Large bay windows looked over the Parisian streets, where shoppers and tourists and businessmen mingled in the chilly morning. He had no cushions on the window seat. If she worked here, Sophie thought, she would pile up cushions and sit there like a cat, staring into the street and looking for inspiration.

But of course that was fanciful, and why M. Lazard was the executive and she just a hostess.

“Madame, enchanted,” Lazard said. He came forward from behind the mahogany desk and bowed over her hand, pressing it to his lips in a courtly gesture. Then he pressed his own on top of it. “I am so tremendously sorry for your loss. M. Massot, or if I may say, Pierre, was a good boss and a good friend. We have all missed him these long years.”

Sophie felt her eyes prickle at the warmth of the greeting. This stranger was kinder to her than her own family.

“Thank you,” she said. “You know, I do speak French, if you would be more comfortable.”

“Certainly not; I have instructed all the staff to change to English. Please, Madame, sit down.”

The chair in front of his desk seemed awfully formal, so Sophie gingerly perched herself on a chaise longue covered in a gorgeous ice blue silk.

“I am sure you will not want to be bothered with House Massot’s affairs for too long.”

“I hope not.”

“But while you are here, you must read various documents, and you will need to ask questions, to satisfy yourself about the state of affairs. It is hard enough in one’s own language at times without having to use a second one. We only employ bilingual staff anyway—we do a large amount of business with London and New York, and of course there’s De Beers in South Africa to consider. It is good for everybody to brush up their English.”

She relaxed. Well, he wasn’t hostile at all, and didn’t seem disposed to think her interfering.

“You’re very kind.”

“Not at all, Madame. You are in charge now, you know.”

He smiled at her and his eyes twinkled. “So where would you like to start?”

A good question, Sophie thought. She had no idea.

“I’ve read the company report, but . . .”

“Legal jargon, I know. Impossible to understand. May I suggest something?” he asked, deferentially.

“Of course.”

“Perhaps you would like to meet the department heads, the staff. We could call a meeting, or I could walk you around the place, and you could see everybody working as normal.”

Sophie brightened. “That sounds perfect.”