‘Your parents may not agree,’ Rupert warned. ‘Your mother will surely worry about the proprieties.’

‘She may,’ agreed Kitty, ‘but my father will not. He has always been keen for an alliance between our families.’

‘He’s a practical man and thinks of the estate,’ remarked Rupert, remembering his conversation with Sir James at the funeral.

‘He does, but he also wants to see me comfortably established. If we did decide to marry, he would be happy for both reasons.’ She smiled at him and added, ‘But it must be your decision, Rupert. You will have to propose our marriage. It won’t come from me.’

Rupert rode home with his mind in turmoil. There was no doubt that news of his visit to Kitty would soon come to Sir James’s ears – the servants would see to that – and Sir James would put two and two together and be expecting a visit from him. Speaking with Kitty he had almost proposed to her there and then, firmly dismissing any further thoughts of Hélène, but he held back, as one tiny corner of his mind warned, ‘Suppose you get home and find a letter waiting – it will be too late.’

There was no letter. The following day he rode back to Marwick House to ask Sir James’s permission to marry his daughter.

They were wed three weeks later in a quiet ceremony at the village church and together moved into the Dower House, as Kitty and Justin had planned.

No one mentioned Hélène St Clair, and if Kitty suspected there might have been someone else, she asked no questions. She had accepted Justin as second best and hoped he wouldn’t realise it, and she didn’t want to know if Rupert had accepted her in the same way. With a heavy heart, Rupert wrote one last time to Hélène, telling her of his marriage; and to save any awkward questions from Kitty, he walked to the village and posted the letter himself.

Chapter 34

The letter arrived at Belair on a cold morning in early December. The world beyond the windows was white with overnight frost, unmelted by the pale winter sun. Hélène was sitting in the morning room by the fire reading when Didier brought in the post. He had seen that there was a letter from England, and knowing how long Hélène had been waiting for one, he brought it straight to her. When she saw the handwriting, the blood drained from her face. Rupert!

Didier saw her change of countenance and ventured to ask, ‘Are you quite well, Miss Hélène?’

‘Yes, of course, Didier,’ snapped Hélène. Then, realising how rude she had sounded, she said, ‘I’m sorry, Didier, but I’m quite all right.’ She thanked him for bringing her post, and as soon as he had withdrawn, she hurried up to her room where she could lock her door and be undisturbed.

Didier was unconvinced, and knowing that Madame St Clair was out, he went in search of Annette, who was in the kitchen with Agathe Sauze.