After a moment or two, Rupert said, ‘What a lovely evening. A wonderful celebration for your sister’s marriage.’

‘Yes, monsieur,’ was all Hélène found she could manage in reply, but it made Rupert smile and he tried another tack.

‘You’re looking very beautiful tonight, mademoiselle, definitely the belle of the ball.’ Even as spoke he thought how trite the compliment sounded and wished he hadn’t said it. However, he was rewarded with a shy smile as Hélène replied, ‘Oh no, monsieur, that accolade must be reserved for my sister. She is the true beauty.’

Rupert did not agree. He had thought Clarice beautiful as she had walked down the aisle, but the more he saw of her the more insipid he found her. She was like a beautiful doll, whereas his love, his Hélène, had a dark beauty that must draw the eye of any man. A man like Simon Barnier, perhaps.

‘Have you know Monsieur Barnier for a long time?’ he asked.

Hélène gave a small shrug. ‘All my life, I suppose, though he is older than I am so we had little to do with each other as children.’

‘He has been watching you all evening,’ Rupert couldn’t resist saying. ‘I can see he admires you.’

Hélène looked a little flustered and she missed her step in the dance, almost treading on Rupert’s toe. For a second he held her more firmly to steady her, but then she pulled away and said, ‘I don’t think that is the kind of thing you should be saying to me, monsieur.’

Rupert knew she was right, but he laughed. ‘I’m sure you’re right, but you must have noticed it yourself. Whenever you see him, he’s looking at you.’ Why don’t I keep my mouth shut? Rupert thought even as the words escaped. But it was like touching a sore tooth with the tip of his tongue and he could not. However, Hélène’s answer surprised him.

‘Then I wish he would not,’ she said fiercely. ‘I don’t like to be looked at!’

‘And you don’t like Simon,’ Rupert said, not knowing why it was true, but knowing it was so.

‘I hardly know him,’ came the reply. ‘He dangled after Clarice for a while, but luckily Lucas came home in time to save her.’

‘Save her!’ Rupert was startled. ‘Save her from what?’

‘Well, from Simon, of course. Anyway, she’s always loved Lucas. One should always marry for love, don’t you think?’

Rupert, who had never thought so in the past, said fervently, ‘Yes, I do. It’s what I intend to do.’

‘I don’t think it’s seemly to be talking like this,’ Hélène said suddenly. ‘I know my mother wouldn’t approve. Perhaps we should go in to supper now.’

Though the music was still playing, they broke apart, and Rupert led her, her fingers resting on his arm, into the supper room. From the corner of his eye he saw Simon Barnier watching them and knew a stab of guilty pleasure at his sour expression.