Hélène, well aware of her father’s bias towards Clarice and used to it, didn’t answer but turned away, her gaze drifting over the villagers lining the streets, and it was then that she saw him. Jeannot. At first she thought her eyes must be deceiving her, but as he caught her eye he raised his hand in salute, and seeing his familiar grin she had no doubt that it was indeed Jeannot. She felt a flush of pleasure flood her cheeks and hurriedly she turned her face forward again, having no wish to alert either of her parents to his presence.

Not that they’d recognise him after all this time, she thought, but you never know. Hélène knew they would want no reminder of the time she and Jeannot had survived together in the besieged city of Paris. For the rest of the short journey back to the house she wondered what he was doing in St Etienne and whether she’d be able to see him. She looked up at Pierre’s straight back on the box in front and wondered if he had seen Jeannot as well. He had always had a soft spot for the street urchin – had he perhaps known that he was going to come?

When they arrived back at the house, they all alighted from the barouche and Pierre quickly led the horses away to make room for the carriage following. There had been no chance for Hélène to speak to him, nor would there be for the rest of the day, but she was determined to ask him about Jeannot as soon as she could.

The promise of the early morning had not failed; it was a perfect June day, and once they had been formally received in the house, the guests walked out into the garden, where hired waiters offered glasses of wine and lemonade. Hélène had slipped upstairs to her own room, and from her usual perch on the window seat, she watched as more guests emerged through the drawing room doors to stand in the sunshine awaiting the call to the wedding breakfast, to be served in the large pavilion that had been erected on the lower lawn. Hélène knew that very soon she must make her own appearance but for a moment she leaned out of the window a little and looked across at the stables. She could see Pierre and Henri rubbing down the horses in the yard. Was Jeannot there too? She couldn’t see him.

At that moment her door opened and Louise appeared.

‘Maman says where are you? She says you’re to come down at once.’

‘I’m coming,’ Hélène replied, and having tucked an escaped tendril of hair behind her ear, she glanced in the mirror to ensure she was tidy before following her sister down the stairs.

Rupert had been driven to Belair in one of the Barrineau carriages. He lingered outside the front door, allowing other guests to overtake him, and thus it was that Hélène was coming down the stairs in answer to her mother’s summons as he came into the hall. As she saw him walk through the door she paused on the staircase, wondering who he was. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him before and decided he must be one of Lucas’s cousins.