From then on Hélène’s card filled up rapidly. Young men she had known as children came to demand dances, and she discovered how much she enjoyed dancing with someone other than her sisters or the dancing master.

Hélène was not the only one enjoying her first ball. Despite her youth, Lucie Barrineau’s parents had allowed her presence at the ball celebrating her brother’s marriage, and her dance card filled remarkably quickly. Young as she was, she was an heiress, and as such she would be courted by many hopeful suitors. Rupert claimed his dance, and was amused to see the look of anxiety on her mother’s face. It was the look he had seen on the faces of other mamas over the years as he paid attention to their daughters. As he and Lucie danced an energetic polka they were watched by two sets of anxious eyes: Suzanne Barrineau’s and Hélène’s. He was enjoying the dance and saw neither.

Later, Rupert invited Sylvie St Clair to dance, but she refused him with a gentle smile.

‘You’re very kind, sir, but I do not dance these days.’ Her eyes flicked sideways to her husband, seated across the alcove talking to his aunt, and Rupert remembered that he had lost part of his leg during the siege of Paris. Dancing must be impossible for him.

‘Of course, madame, but perhaps I may sit with you for a while. I have danced with all the ladies with whom I am acquainted, except for Miss Hélène, but she has promised me the supper dance.’

Sylvie gestured to the chair beside her. ‘Please, monsieur, do sit down.’ She glanced round the room, which had become increasingly hot from the hundreds of candles and the press of people. ‘It is a delightful evening, is it not? Such a wonderful celebration of Clarice’s marriage.’

‘An extremely good match, I must say,’ put in her husband as he turned back to his wife. He reached forward, extending his hand to Rupert. ‘Good to see you, sir.’

They passed a comfortable quarter of an hour until it was time for Rupert to claim Hélène for himself, to dance and to escort her to the supper table. As they moved out onto the dance floor, Sylvie smiled.

‘I’m glad she’s not going in to supper with that Simon Barnier,’ she said. ‘I don’t warm to the man, do you?’

‘Hardly know the fellow,’ replied Georges. ‘Knew him as a child, but he’s younger than I am and we were never friends.’

‘I could see he was disappointed that Monsieur Chalfont had taken the supper dance.’

‘You’re probably right, my dear,’ returned her husband. ‘Makes no difference really – Chalfont will be gone tomorrow. Lucas’s mother was telling me that he’ll be leaving Montmichel in the morning.’

Rupert and Hélène did not speak for the first few moments of their first dance together, Rupert because he was enjoying the feel of Hélène light as thistledown in his arms, and Hélène because she did not know what to say. With her previous partners, including Simon Barnier, the conversation had flowed once the man had instigated it with a compliment or some innocuous comment about the evening, the ballroom or the band. She had been able to look up into their faces and answers came easily enough, but when Rupert remained silent, Hélène found that all genteel conversation deserted her.