“Highly unlikely, madame,” he said. “Unless you can see your own beauty reflected in my face.”

She sighed. “Such a delicious man. I should have never encouraged Kallista to marry you without first trying to catch you for myself.” Soon after we’d met, Cécile had adopted the nickname bestowed on me by my first husband, making her the only person who’d called me Kallista to my face. Philip had used it only in his journals, and I’d not known of the endearment until after his death.

“You flatter me,” he said. “But truly, your timing could not be more flawless. I can’t think when we’ve needed you more.”

“I’ve been waiting for the invitation.” We had not seen Cécile since our arrival in France. When the Orient Express dropped us in Paris, my health was not so good as it was now, and I’d been in too much pain for even a short stay at her house on the Rue Saint Germain. “You are pale, Kallista, but that’s to be expected after what Madame Hargreaves tells me you’ve seen today.”

My mother-in-law entered the corridor, a bemused look on her face. “Are you planning to stand out here all night? Do come sit, Madame du Lac,” she said. “I’m longing to improve our acquaintance.” She looped her arm through Cécile’s and led her into a large sitting room, where the rest of the party waited for us. The furniture reminded me of that in Colin’s house in Park Lane—functional yet comfortable, elegant in its simplicity. The silk upholstery on slim chairs and a wide settee was the darkest forest green, blending beautifully with the walnut wood of the pieces.

Mrs. Hargreaves made brief introductions—her neighbors, the Markhams, a handsome couple, had already arrived—and dove into eager conversation with Cécile. As they were of an age, it did not surprise me to see them quickly find common ground. I hoped their new friendship might distract her from criticizing me. Colin pressed a glass of champagne into my hand then crossed the room to bring one to Cécile and his mother. I took a sip, but could hardly taste it, still feeling more than a little disjointed, off-balance, after the events of the day. Mr. Markham came to my side.