“He can fend by himself for a bit.”

“It’s his wedding day,” he protested, but unconvincingly. He wanted to speak to Maman, and there hadn’t been an appropriate moment yet.

“We aren’t taking time off; we have our entire lives for that.” Sophie walked inside the room; she had changed into an elegant, but everyday, Catherine Walker suit in dark green wool, and a soft cream blouse. No jewels but her engagement ring, and, Tom admitted, she didn’t need them. He was proud of his mother’s élan. “Hugh!” she shouted. “Tom and I are going out.”

“All right, darling, see you later.” His voice floated down from the study. “I’ll go to the office.”

Sophie ushered Tom out of the front door; it was mild and sunny now, and they strolled towards Hyde Park, in silence at first.

“I suppose I must call your grandmother.” Sophie glanced at her son. “I’ll do it when we get back. Has that been upsetting you, darling?”

“No.” He was surprised he was so transparent, but also relieved; now he would not have to fence around the subject with her.

“Then what is it?”

“My girlfriend—my ex-girlfriend. Judy Dean.”

“Your ex-girlfriend.” Sophie heaved a sigh of relief. “So you’ve broken up?” she asked, trying to keep her tone flat.

“Yes.” Tom chewed his lip. “Maman, when we talked before, you told me that Judy had done something wrong.... And is that why you so objected to her?”

Sophie nodded.

“What were those things?”

She shrugged. “It’s not important, Tom.”

“It is. It’s very important. You must tell me.”

“I can’t say. I have my reasons.”

“And I have mine,” he said, with a touch of anger. “It matters—for our family, it matters.”

Sophie stopped and leaned against a white-painted railing. “What’s happened, Tom? Tell me.”

He groaned, and passed a hand through his mop of dark hair. “I’ve been very foolish—very stupid,” he said. “Mother—she’s pregnant.”

Sophie gasped and swayed on her feet. The busy London street wavered before her eyes; her son’s strong arms came up under her elbows.

“Maman! Maman! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine—fine,” she whispered. She clutched at him until the world stopped spinning. Oh, my God, Sophie thought—oh, dear God. . . .

“I shouldn’t have told you,” Tom said, gloomily. “On your wedding day.”

“No.” Sophie controlled herself. “I had to know.”

“I broke up with her and she told me.” Tom sounded so miserable. “I didn’t know what to do, so I put her in the east wing of the château. And I came here—to see Hugh. I couldn’t handle this by myself.”