Together, two children alone, he and Hélène had survived the siege and the bloody civil war that ended it. With the arrival of peace, their lives had taken very different paths and though he seldom had the opportunity to see Hélène, Jeannot continued to feel protective of her. It was for this reason that one of his scouts kept an eye on the house in the Avenue Ste Anne, how Jeannot always knew when the family was in residence. The last time he had seen Hélène was at her sister’s wedding. He had travelled down to St Etienne and joined those lining the street to watch the bride and groom ride home after the ceremony, and in the second carriage he had seen her, Hélène, dressed in pale yellow with flowers in her hair, her sister’s bridesmaid. He had risked a visit to Pierre in the Belair stables the next day, but had caught no glimpse of her.

Pierre had always had a soft spot for the boy and was not surprised when Jeannot put his head round the door the day after they’d arrived in Paris this time.

‘Well, Jeannot,’ he said. ‘Thought we might see you.’ The two men sat together on the bales of straw, sharing a beer and chatting as comfortably as they always had.

‘Who’s here?’ Jeannot asked casually.

‘Madame St Clair, with Miss Hélène and her maid, Annette.’

‘She has her own maid now, does she?’ Jeannot said, raising his eyebrows.

‘I thought it was you!’ The voice from the doorway broke in on their conversation and the two men turned to see Hélène standing on the threshold. Both stood up as she walked into the stable to join them, saying, ‘I saw you from my bedroom window, Jeannot, creeping into the yard.’

‘I didn’t creep, Hélène, I walked in like a Christian.’

‘Miss Hélène,’ murmured Pierre, ‘you shouldn’t be in here with us.’

‘Why not?’ Hélène shot back. ‘I always was before.’

‘And remember the trouble it got you into? Madame would not be pleased.’

‘My mother is out,’ replied Hélène. ‘She took a fiacre to visit her dressmaker.’

‘It still isn’t proper for you to be out here,’ Pierre maintained, ‘without even your maid.’

‘Oh, if that’s the problem,’ Hélène said cheerfully, ‘I’ll call Annette, shall I?’

Jeannot looked at her and realised she’d changed. Last time they had sat together in this stable had been just before Clarice’s wedding. Hélène had been a young girl, full of excitement about the wedding, telling Jeannot of all the important people who would be attending, the latter information interesting him very much. Now, however, she was different. That girl was gone and in her place was a young woman, an adult, relaxed and confident.

At that moment Annette appeared at the door. ‘Miss Hélène,’ she said breathlessly, ‘your mother has returned, she’s paying off the fiacre.’

‘Then I suppose I’d better go indoors,’ replied Hélène, ‘but I shan’t need you for a while, Annette.’ She gave Pierre a grin and disappeared, leaving the other three staring after her.