‘Ah, but Annette’s case is a little different, Clémentine,’ Rosalie replied easily. ‘The poor girl’s husband has recently died, leaving her carrying a posthumous child.’

‘Even so…’ Clémentine sniffed and left the rest of her sentence unfinished.

Hélène opened her mouth to speak, but at a frown from her mother she closed it again. There was no need, her mother’s frown said, to discuss the matter further with Aunt Clémentine.

Once she had delivered Clarice’s breakfast tray to her room, and while the rest of the family were still at breakfast, Annette quickly made beds and aired bedrooms before returning to the turmoil of the kitchen, where Antoine issued instructions, insisted on immediate obedience and snapped at those who were careless or inattentive. It was a relief that hardly had she been there for half an hour before she was summoned to her mistress’s boudoir.

‘Annette, I need you to go up to Miss Hélène’s room and help her to dress. Go along to her now, she’s expecting you.’

Annette bobbed a curtsy and was about to leave the room when Rosalie said, ‘One moment. How do you like working here? Have you settled in well?’

‘Yes, madame, I like it very much.’

Rosalie nodded satisfaction at her answer. ‘Good,’ she said. ‘Perhaps something can be arranged in due course, after…’ She paused, interrupting herself, and said, ‘You’re keeping well? It can’t be long now, can it?’

‘I am well, madame, thank you.’

‘Well, run along now, Hélène is waiting for you.’

‘Yes, madame, thank you, madame.’ Annette bobbed another curtsy and hurried along the landing to Hélène’s room. Her heart was singing. Madame seemed pleased with her and was hinting that she might be allowed back to work at Belair… after. Over the last few weeks she had tried to put ‘after’ out of her mind. When the baby was born she would be living with the Widow Leclerc in the village, cut off from Madame Sauze, Aunt Agathe, at Belair. Somehow she would have to look after her child and earn their living, but she had no real idea of how she would manage. Now it seemed Madame St Clair had given her hope for the future, hers and her baby’s.

She tapped on the door, and when Hélène called her in, she was greeted with a smile.

‘Isn’t this fun?’ Hélène said. ‘I asked Maman if you could come and help me dress. She’s helping Louise herself, but I know she really wants to be with Clarice.’

She looked across at Annette and asked almost the same question as her mother. ‘Are you happy here, Annette?’

‘Oh yes, Miss Hélène,’ Annette replied. ‘It’s a lovely place to work.’

With an abrupt change of subject Hélène asked, ‘When is your baby coming?’

‘Very soon, miss,’ replied Annette, laying a hand on her stomach. ‘I can feel it kicking.’

Hélène stared at her in amazement. ‘Kicking? Really? Can you?’

Annette nodded. ‘You could…’ she began, but her voice tailed away as she realised what she had been about to say.