“See you off? But where are you going?”

“Back to Paris.” He pressed her hand. “I have a couple of things to do; I may stay in the city for a few days.”

“We’ll miss you,” Sophie said. “Come back soon.”

He turned on his heel and walked back to his car; the lovely evening light was now fading over his pear orchard.

Pierre Massot climbed into the car and drove away. And Sophie stood there, watching, until he disappeared.

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“So,” the old lady said. “You have come at last.”

“Just so, Madame,” said Sophie, nervously.

Her mother-in-law shook her head and made a little moue of annoyance with her thin lips.

“Speak English, girl, for heaven’s sake,” she snapped. “You were never any good at French.”

The maid was still hovering, pouring the tea, but Katherine Massot paid no notice. Of course she would snap at Sophie in front of a servant; in Katherine’s world, servants were invisible. They simply didn’t count.

“I wanted you to understand my decision,” Sophie said, trying to keep her voice from trembling. She had always been nervous around the older woman. There had never been any warmth from Katherine, not when she and Pierre were first married, not even when Tom’s conception had been announced.

“I can see your decision with my own eyes.” Her paper-thin claw of a hand gestured angrily at Sophie’s dress. It was perfectly chic: Givenchy, gathered at the waist, falling to just below the knee, with a tailored jacket, and severe Christian Louboutin court shoes.

But the elegance didn’t matter today. The colour mattered. And the colour was black.

“You are giving up on my son,” the elder Mme Massot said.

Sophie flushed. It was as close to emotion as she had ever seen Katherine come, and Sophie had no desire to hurt anybody.There had already been so much pain.

For a second she didn’t say anything.They sat together, silently, in the sumptuous parlour of the dower house, the Earl Grey rapidly cooling in front of them in its bone china cups. Sophie wished she could bolt. The excessive richness of the Louis XIV furniture, the antique silk Chinese wallpaper, it all seemed oppressive.

“I could never give up on Pierre. But it has been seven years.”

“Seven years and two days.”

Sophie nodded. Of course she kept exact count; she was his mother.

“We’ve heard nothing,” she pointed out. “Not a word, not a sign.”

“There were reports . . . that he was seen,” Mme Massot said stubbornly.

“We investigated all those,” Sophie reminded her. “They came to nothing. We have spent years, Katherine . . . many millions of francs . . . over two dozen investigators, the best private firms. . . .”