‘Married! You run ahead of yourself, madame.’

‘You’re right, I do,’ admitted Rosalie. ‘Perhaps we should speak to Hélène.’

‘Hélène? Why? It’s not her decision to make.’

‘No,’ agreed Rosalie, ‘but if she dislikes the idea, then that makes the decision for you.’

‘And what if she wants to encourage him? What then?’

‘Then perhaps we let them have the chance to get to know each other. Make it clear there is no commitment on either side, but let them meet, walk and talk. She can always take Annette with her for propriety. You never know, either one might change their mind. If you forbid it, then perhaps all will be driven underground. They may meet secretly, and if that were discovered Hélène’s reputation would be ruined.’

‘Perhaps,’ sighed Emile.

‘If Hélène wants to get to know him, better to let it run its course. Throw them together and they may tire of each other, or find they don’t suit.’

Rosalie could see that she had won her argument, and it was one she really believed worth winning. Apart from the fact that she had taken a liking to Rupert Chalfont, she knew that the more such a friendship was opposed, the more likely it was to survive in spite of the opposition. She had been lucky; she had met Emile at the age of eighteen and had never wanted to look at another man. They had married on her nineteenth birthday. Hélène might only be seventeen, but youth wasn’t a true reason to refuse an engagement, for youth would cease to be an issue if the couple were prepared to wait.

‘If you say so,’ Emile conceded with a sigh. ‘Where is she?’

‘In the garden, I believe. Shall I ring and ask Didier to send her in to us?’

‘Now?’ Emile was always uncomfortable with emotional situations and was tempted to put it off.

‘We should see her together, talk to her and then make our decision.’

‘If you think that’s best,’ Emile replied reluctantly.

Rosalie smiled at him affectionately. ‘I do,’ she said, and she rang the bell for the butler.

Five minutes later there was a tap on the door and Hélène came into the room. She was surprised to see both her parents sitting waiting for her. Her mind raced as she wondered what she had done to cause them to send for her like this. Had they discovered somehow that she knew Annette’s secret? She certainly hadn’t spoken of it to anyone else, and surely Annette had not. She’d only been back in the house for a day.

‘You wanted me, Maman? Papa?’

‘Come and sit down, chérie,’ said her mother, patting the seat beside her. ‘Papa and I want to tell you something.’

Hélène sat down as directed, wondering as she did so if they were going to tell her about Annette themselves. She must pretend amazement if they did. She arranged her expression into one of interest, ready to hear whatever it was and react accordingly. When her mother actually spoke, Hélène couldn’t have been more surprised.