Hélène watched them go and felt herself very much alone. I’m neither fish nor fowl, she thought. Not quite a child to be let away from the table to amuse myself somewhere else, not quite an adult, allowed to mingle in the room and admitted to the general adult conversation. She didn’t actually mind that; most of what they all talked about she found dull. She looked round the room and saw that though there was no withdrawing room for the ladies, most of the men seemed to have withdrawn themselves to the far end of the pavilion, their laughter loud, their talk unheard by the women who remained seated at the tables.

Then she saw someone standing just inside the entrance from the garden, watching her. It was his stillness and solitude amidst the hum that had attracted her attention, and she realised that it was the man she’d met in the hallway before the meal, Lucas’s English friend. What was his name? Rupert Chalfont? Yes, that was it, and his eyes were fixed on her. She felt the colour rise in her cheeks and glanced away, leaning towards the lady on her left, apparently exhibiting great interest in what she was saying.

Rupert had seen her blush. He had also seen the two younger girls leave the table. Perhaps she might be allowed to do so too.

Well, Rupert thought, nothing ventured! As he began to cross the room he saw Suzanne Barrineau return to the table and wished he had approached before she had come back. Still, he could hardly turn away again now; Madame St Clair had seen him walking towards them and there was nothing to do but brazen it out. He was surprised therefore when Suzanne said, ‘My dear Rosalie, I don’t think you’ve met Lucas’s English friend, and I am sure he hasn’t been introduced to Hélène.’

Rosalie looked up and, seeing Rupert at her side, said, ‘Of course we have met, Suzanne. I welcomed Monsieur Chalfont on our return from church. However, I don’t think you have been introduced to my daughter, Hélène.’

Rupert executed a small bow and, raised Hélène’s extended hand to his lips as he had earlier.

‘Enchanté, mademoiselle,’ he said, the ghost of a twinkle in his eye.

‘How do you do, monsieur,’ Hélène responded, lowering her eyes with becoming modesty and with no hint that this was not their first encounter.

Rupert smiled as he released her hand, knowing this small secret was something they shared.

‘It was kind of you to take my mother-in-law out to her carriage,’ Suzanne was saying. ‘I’m sure she was exhausted with the excitement of the day. I hope she was not a difficult dinner partner.’ She added with a gay little laugh as she turned to Rosalie, ‘So difficult for Monsieur Chalfont, knowing no one but Lucas!’

‘Certainly not, madame,’ replied Rupert, thinking how uncharitable his hostess was about her mother-in-law. ‘She was most entertaining.’

Rosalie gave him a quick smile of appreciation and then said, ‘Hélène, chérie, you’re looking hot, why don’t you take a turn outside in the garden? I’m sure Monsieur Chalfont will be happy to escort you. I believe that Georges and Sylvie have already gone out to take the air. You may introduce Monsieur Chalfont to them.’