“No,” Dan said firmly, cheeks pinking up a little at last. “I don’t know this place at all.”

Victorine threw a puzzled look at James, who shrugged, pulled up near an actual drawbridge and said jokingly, obviously wanting to change the mood in the car, “Do you think there are any princesses inside?”

As he spoke, the door opened. A woman stepped out, a beautiful woman, her hair long and dark, her limbs elegant and lithe beneath a white cotton summer dress, sprigged with embroidered flowers.

“Can I help you?” she called out in French.

“We were hoping to see inside the chateau. It’s breathtaking,” Victorine said. “Monsieur Clement from Chateau du Lac said we should visit.”

The woman smiled and even Victorine felt herself gape at how stunning she was.

“Most people miss the turn-off,” the woman said, “but I think Monsieur Clement is sweet on my mother and he often sends people here so he has something to discuss with her whenever we visit his bar for a drink. I don’t mind showing small groups through at all. We can start inside and then I’ll show you the gardens, such as they are.” She gave a rueful smile. “If you come back in a year or two, I promise they’ll be spectacular. It’s a work in progress.”

“The inside sounds like a good place to start,” James said.

“You’re American. I’m so sorry.” The woman switched to perfect English, with the hint of an American accent herself. “I’m Ellis. But everyone calls me Ellie.”

“That’s an unusual name,” James said, stepping in beside Ellie.

“It’s my godmother’s middle name. Martha Ellis Gellhorn. You might have heard of her?”

Victorine took Dan’s arm—she’d felt him stiffen by her side—as James smiled at the idea that they mightn’t have heard of Martha Gellhorn.

“Oh yes, we’ve heard of her,” James said to Ellie. “She’s a wonderful journalist.”

“I used to know Gellhorn,” Dan said, surprising Victorine—but of course, being in the newspaper business, her father would have met someone like Martha Gellhorn. “In fact I knew one of her friends very well. But you wouldn’t have met her. She…she died a long time ago.”

Victorine heard Dan’s voice catch and his face had paled once more. Ellie said something sympathetic as Victorine leaned in closer to Dan. “Are you sure you’re all right?” Victorine whispered. “We can go back to the hotel if you’re not feeling well.”

He shook his head but his face was grim. “No. I suppose I just hadn’t realized how it might feel to be out in the French countryside after all this time.”

James and Ellie moved on ahead, talking earnestly together, Ellie pointing out some of the features of the chateau. Victorine hurried forward to hear, bringing Dan with her.

They wandered through the interior until they reached a stunning room near the back, so grand it must once have been a ballroom. The walls were a soft gray and it appeared that some images painted on the wood of an unearthly forest were being restored. The salon opened out onto a terrace and to gardens that had been tamed a little more than the front. The gardens led down to a canal, which seemed to beckon one to step out onto the lawn and revel in the sun and the scent of flowers and the dappled patches of shade.