‘I do not wish you to take your leave of me. It is not safe to do so.’

I nodded at her. I certainly possessed no wish to venture abroad.

‘You must remain here . . . for a while longer. Please, Henriette.’ She spoke quietly while the gentlemen’s conversation continued to rage at the centre of the room. ‘I mean to say . . . you would do me a great honour if you consented to live here – as a part of the household. I am certain Orléans would assent to it.’ A faint hopeful smile spread across her mouth. ‘Since the departure of Madame d’Orléans the formality of life here is no more. There is no more court, as in the past. There are no longer public days or private days or grand suppers. The routine of life is simple, modest – not unlike our existence at La Volière. The formal apartments lie vacant. We live quite without grandeur, without pretence to the old conventions and practices, and although propriety forbids me from receiving guests, I can continue to do so at my residence upon the rue Bleue. You could do the same, should you wish. You need not give up your apartments at the Hôtel Blanquefort, though I believe you would prefer our society here to that of a solitary existence . . .’ She inclined her head coyly. ‘May I beg you, ma chère Henriette? It would please Orléans for you to continue amongst us. You have demonstrated such kindness to him . . . and to me, in particular. You have rendered my life not so bereft of female acquaintance as it has become of late.’

Her expression was so gentle, so pleading and conciliatory. When I had accepted her invitation to La Volière I could never have foreseen that events would have spiralled in such a direction as this, ever winding about me and binding me nearer to Agnès de Buffon. I knew what Mrs Elliot would have me do.

‘Dear Agnès,’ said I, raising my eyes to her humbly. ‘At such a time as this, nothing would please me more.’

Chapter 16