The day passed very slowly, the hours dragging through a grey morning and a wet and chilly winter afternoon. At times Hélène made up her mind that she would go to Paris, and at others that she dare not.

‘We must pray for fine weather tomorrow,’ her mother said as they sat together by the fire in her parlour. ‘It’ll be cold, but with luck the sun may break through.’ Her mother took her hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘Happy the bride that the sun shines on!’ Hélène managed a faint smile and wondered how she could possibly creep out into the night and leave her mother to face the wrath of Simon Barnier… because she knew without doubt that there would be wrath and her mother would bear the brunt of it. She came closer then to confiding in her mother than at any other time; not the escape plan but that she might, at the last minute, refuse to marry Simon.

‘Maman…’ she began, but at that moment Lizette came into the parlour to make up the fire, and when she had gone, the moment had gone also. Hélène realised that she either slipped away in the night, or she married Simon Barnier in the morning.

Simon had been invited to dinner that evening and he arrived in high good humour, his manners well-bred and charming, his conversation light and entertaining. They did not stand on ceremony but ate as a family round the dinner table. Louise sat opposite Simon and thought as she watched the candlelight dance in his eyes what a lucky girl Hélène was to be marrying such a handsome, beguiling man. By this time tomorrow both her sisters would be married women, with a status in society that she had yet to attain. Louise sighed and wished that Simon had a brother.

At the end of the evening Simon took his leave and the family wished him goodnight. He and Hélène were allowed to walk out into the hall for a chaste farewell kiss. As Simon raised her hand to his lips, he murmured, ‘Ah, my Hélène! Tomorrow you’ll be mine and you’ll learn what it means to be married!’ He looked down into her frightened eyes as he squeezed her hand a little more tightly and added, ‘And tomorrow there’ll be no more screams!’

As the door closed behind him she realised that his final words had made her decision for her. He was right. Tomorrow there would be no more screams. Tomorrow she would not be here. Tomorrow she would be on her way to Paris before they’d even realised she’d gone.

Annette was waiting for her in the bedroom, and as soon as she’d shut the door, Hélène turned to her and said, ‘I’ll go.’

Chapter 41

When Annette left, Hélène locked the door behind her. She wanted no unexpected intrusions as she prepared to make her escape. Annette had been good as her word and had packed a small valise with some essentials, but Hélène moved quietly round the room adding a few trinkets and the only money she could find, just a few francs at the back of a drawer. Before she closed the bag she went to the cupboard and lifted down her cherrywood box. She had not destroyed the few letters she had received from Rupert, not even the one telling her of his marriage, but she was certainly not going to leave them here for anyone else to find and read. She couldn’t take the box, it was too cumbersome, but she took out the letters and pushed them into her bag. Lastly she removed the engagement ring Simon had given her and laid it on the dressing table.