‘How did you come to be living in such a place?’ she asked. ‘Who looked after you?’

Hélène ignored the first question but answered the second readily enough. ‘We looked after ourselves, Maman. Annette taught me to cook and to iron and take care of the place. She found work in the market and brought me sewing from a nearby dressmaker.’

‘You took in sewing!’ cried Rosalie.

‘It’s the only thing of any use that I knew how to do,’ pointed out Hélène. ‘Annette was far more use.’

‘But taking in sewing!’

‘We had to earn enough to keep us, Maman.’

‘But how did you find the apartment?’ persisted Rosalie.

‘Annette knew of it from a friend,’ was all Hélène would answer.

Of the actual escape she would say nothing more than, ‘We went to the station and caught the early train.’

It was clear to Rosalie that Hélène was going to tell her nothing more and she decided to leave things at that. Christine Bertram had been right. Rosalie was just grateful that Hélène was safely home, respectably married. The least said about her time in Paris was the soonest forgotten. What she suspected and what she knew were two different things, and she shared neither of them with her husband.

There was a stir in the servants’ quarters when Pierre announced that he and Annette were going to be married. Emile had been for turning Annette out into the street for the part she had played in Hélène’s disgrace, but when Rupert gently pointed out that as Hélène’s personal maid she worked for him now, there was nothing he could do. Emile had no wish to lose Pierre as his coachman – he had been in their employ for more than ten years – so he had to accept that either Annette remained as Pierre’s wife, or he would be looking for a new coachman.

‘They could have the empty cottage on the home farm,’ suggested Rosalie. ‘Pierre could come in daily, as could Annette if she wanted to work here. If they’re getting married she won’t be going with Hélène and Rupert when they go to England.’

‘Hmm,’ grunted Emile. He’d been outmanoeuvred again. ‘If that’s what you think best,’ he said and returned to his study.

Hélène also spent some time with Madame Sauze, taking coffee with her in the housekeeper’s parlour.

‘I wanted to thank you,’ Hélène said. ‘Without your apartment I could never have gone. I’d be married to Simon Barnier by now.’

‘It was nothing,’ Agathe told her, ‘though it would be better for me if your parents did not know.’

‘They’ll hear nothing from me,’ promised Hélène. ‘I owe you so much. It’s the second time you’ve rescued me.’

‘You owe me nothing. Your family gave Annette shelter when she needed it and took us both in when we had nowhere else to go. That is something that can never be repaid. And now she and Pierre are going to be married, Annette’s future will be a happy one.’ She looked at Hélène, sitting comfortably in the armchair on the other side of the fireplace. How will she manage at this place, Pilgrim’s Oak? she wondered. ‘Will you mind her staying here, rather than going to England with you?’ she asked.