‘Yes, she did, but I don’t work there any more. Father Lenoir died and young Father Thomas no longer required my services.’

Rosalie looked surprised. ‘But surely he still needed a housekeeper?’

‘He did, but over the years I have trained Annette well and he decided that she could do the job as well as I.’ Agathe faltered as she wondered how best to explain what had happened to the girl since she herself had been dismissed. She had sallied forth to the Avenue Ste Anne to renew her acquaintance with Rosalie St Clair. Now here she was, seated opposite that lady, and she had to introduce a subject so distasteful that it could well get her thrown out of the house. A friend, Agathe had described her to Annette, but as she looked across at Rosalie now she knew that they were not friends, simply two women who had met in the most peculiar circumstances some years ago, and had made some sort of connection.

‘I’m sorry, madame,’ she said. ‘But may I speak directly to you?’

‘I think you should,’ replied Rosalie. She wondered if Madame Sauze had come looking for a position as she no longer kept house for the priest at St Jacques. Briefly she reviewed her household, here in Paris and in St Etienne. She liked the woman, respected her and had seen that she was a good housekeeper when she had visited the Clergy House all those years ago. Perhaps she could find something, an under-housekeeper at Belair? That might be a possibility. Old Madame Choux the housekeeper was getting on and would have to retire soon. As these thoughts flitted through her mind she began to give proper attention to what Madame Sauze was saying and, appalled, realised what she was actually asking for. Would she take an expectant, unmarried woman into her household?

‘It’s a great deal that you ask, madame,’ she said when Agathe finally fell silent.

‘I don’t ask it for myself,’ Agathe replied quietly, ‘I ask for a child who has been abused and is now in a cruel situation that is none of her making.’ She did not remind Rosalie that her own daughter could have been in just such a situation some years ago if Agathe had not stepped in to keep her safe; she didn’t have to. The words lay between them, unspoken.

At last Rosalie said, ‘So, madame, tell me again what you want of me.’

Agathe outlined her plan, that Annette should be introduced to the house at St Etienne as her niece, recently widowed by la grippe, currently rife in Paris, and allowed to work for the family there until her time should come.

Rosalie listened in silence, considering the possibilities of the plan. She knew Emile would be against such an idea, even if he believed the tale of the dead husband. He knew a little of what had befallen Hélène when she was lost during the siege, but his wife had not gone into any details and it appeared that Hélène herself had been able to block the memory entirely from her mind. She never referred to it, and she seemed to be a normal, untroubled girl on the brink of womanhood. Could she expose her to Annette in her condition without awkward explanations? How could she explain the sudden arrival of such a girl to the rest of the household, who, deliberately, had been told nothing of Hélène’s experiences? Hélène would recognise her, of course she would, but would meeting her again trigger memories better left undisturbed? And yet, Rosalie knew, she owed it to Madame Sauze to agree to help.