Pierre went after her to steady her, but she threw off his proffered hand and continued alone.

Agathe and Hélène watched her progress for a moment and then turned back to the old priest, who stood beside the grave, his eyes closed and his lips moving in prayer.

How strange, Agathe thought as she watched him, that two supposed men of God could be so different – the arrogant, bullying Father Thomas full of hellfire and the kindly Father Bernard, understanding and filled with compassion.

As far as I’m concerned, thought Agathe, only one of them is a man of God.

They were turning to follow Annette and Pierre down to the village when Father Bernard opened his eyes and smiled at them. He didn’t speak, merely raised his hand in what could have been a blessing or simply a wave, and returned to his church.

‘Come along,’ Agathe said to Hélène. ‘We’d better go and find her.’

They set off back down the hill and found Annette and Pierre waiting for them in the lane behind Le Coq d’Argent. As they approached, Annette said, ‘You told me yesterday that Madame St Clair said I could come back to work as soon as I was ready.’

Agathe nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘When you are.’

‘I’m ready now.’

‘Perhaps you should wait a few more days…’ began Agathe.

‘No!’ came the fierce reply. ‘I’m ready now.’

The three women walked over to the house with the green door to collect Annette’s few belongings and to explain to Madame Leclerc, and Pierre returned to the inn yard to put the horse to the chaise.

It was ten minutes later that Rupert saw them getting into the carriage as he was returning to the inn. He stepped forward and, raising his hat, said, ‘Good afternoon, mademoiselle, I trust I see you well?’

Hélène turned her head at the sound of his voice and a faint pink coloured her cheeks.

‘Quite well, I thank you, monsieur,’ she said and then somehow feeling that further explanation was required of the company on the chaise, she added, ‘We are just returning to Belair. I believe we shall have the pleasure of your company this evening, monsieur.’ Even to her own ears the words seemed stilted and formal, but Rupert didn’t seem to notice, in fact answering in the same vein.

‘Indeed, I’m greatly looking forward to it.’ He smiled up at her and then stepped back so that Pierre could drive out into the street and had the pleasure of seeing Hélène cast a glance back over her shoulder as the chaise rounded the corner and took the road to Belair.

They travelled in silence, each deep in thought, Madame Sauze deciding that she must speak to Madame St Clair about the money she had already disbursed on Annette’s behalf; Annette vowing in her own mind that she would never again allow herself the self-indulgence of tears; Pierre glad that Annette was returning to Belair so soon, where he could keep watch over her; and Hélène thinking of Rupert Chalfont and the smile that lit his face and warmed her heart. She was amazed that with everything that had happened so far that day she had entirely forgotten that Rupert Chalfont was coming to dinner that evening. How could that have slipped her mind? Since the wedding and the ball, he had seldom been far from her thoughts, but until he had spoken to her just now, she realised, she had been so concerned with Annette she had not allowed him to intrude upon her mind. Now, however, with them all safely on their way back home, she found a bubble of excitement was growing inside her at the thought of his company that evening.