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A fter dinner, the men moved outdoors to smoke and drink. Lizzie accepted Luc’s offer to join them in a glass of Armagnac, and the spicy spirit set her throat on fire, but she rather liked the taste.

‘The war has some minor benefits,’ she mused, as they stood on the terrace, watching the sun sink into the river like an orange ball of fire.

‘And what might they be?’ Luc asked.

‘Women can enjoy after-dinner drinks with the men, and not be banished to another room,’ she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

‘It is proving to be an interesting time for women. I never thought I’d see it, but they’re running many of the factories in France, what with most of the able-bodied men away. Doing a good job too, by all accounts.’

‘It’s the same in Brittany,’ Lizzie replied, practicing her cover story. In less than one year with the SOE, she had already operated under multiple cover names and stories. It could get confusing, so she made a habit of running her fictional life details through her mind at every opportunity.

Luc puffed on his cigar and the acrid smoke lingered in the warm air before swirling away into the darkening night. ‘Talking of which, what happened to you upon the outbreak of war, Michel?’ Luc asked, dropping his already low voice another notch.

‘I wanted to fight, but my heart is weak. I was rejected for conscription. If anyone asks, it should make me less likely to be rounded up and sent off to work at a camp in Germany.’

Lizzie looked alarmed. She hadn’t considered Jack would be targeted for any other reason than if they were found to be agents.

The danger caused her spine to tingle, and anxiety coiled in her stomach.

In her enthusiasm for going undercover together, had she underestimated the risks for Jack?

Lizzie resolved to be more vigilant and not make any slip-ups.

One error could be fatal for them and for Luc, who was harbouring British agents and would be tried for treason if someone discovered the truth.

‘And what have you been doing in Brittany, Michel?’ Luc continued, probing.

‘Until the war, the wine trade was good. Since then, business has slowed because we can only sell to the Germans. All the export trade I managed is obviously impossible now. The business can manage without me, which was why I decided to make myself useful and help you, my dear distant cousin,’ Jack said, smiling wryly.

‘Not bad,’ Luc said. ‘We have work to do to develop your knowledge of the wine business, but it’s a good start. Occasionally, I must host dinner guests, of shall we say, a highly unsavoury nature?’

‘Germans?’ Lizzie asked, her heart pumping. It would take only one officer from a past operation to recognise her, and it would all be over.

They had discussed the potential risks of Lizzie being recognised in pre-mission planning, and Val had concluded they were minimal given they would be in the Vichy region.

Val said, ‘There’s not a chance in hell we’ll send you back to Paris for a while. Reims would be risky enough. We need memories to grow fuzzy, and officers to be posted back to Germany. It’ll take time, so it’s just as well you’re off to Vichy.’

Lizzie wondered whether Hannah had been back to Paris since her last daring operation at German High Command. She wouldn’t be surprised if she had because Hannah didn’t play by the same rules as other people. Lizzie had observed her in action and knew she was fearless.

Lizzie was in no rush to visit occupied France again after what she had done, and was relieved to be deployed somewhere new where no one would know her.

Luc resumed puffing on his cigar and contemplated for a moment before saying, ‘Bureaucrats from the Vichy government, if you can call it that, have been here for dinner several times. The commissaire visits occasionally and brings various guests with him. Last time, he brought a Nazi officer who seemed quite personable. Let’s hope they don’t repeat it, but we shall do well to be prepared in case they do. ’

‘They are all quite personable until you cross them,’ Lizzie said, her voice laced with steel.

Luc studied Lizzie for a moment. ‘Yes, you’re right.

As I said, we must prepare ourselves for every eventuality.

There’s little the Nazis enjoy more than being wined and dined on French fayre and consuming the best our French cellars have to offer.

They are drinking Paris dry from what I hear, as well as sending all our best vintages to Germany.

Did you know, they changed the Franc exchange rate so they as good as steal our wine even when they make a show of paying for it? ’

Lizzie saw the plundering of his country deeply troubled Luc.

By now, the last shards of daylight had disappeared, and the dusky sky twinkled with silver stars.

It was a glorious summer night, with only a slight chill in the air, but Lizzie shivered.

They’d barely begun their mission, but when she thought about how audacious their plan was it was easy to lose faith in their ability to pull it off and get back to London alive.

Luc’s solemn reminder that they were surrounded by enemies who could enter their safe haven at any moment shook her to the core for the second time that day.

Toulouse was proving to be no less a den of vipers than occupied France.

At least you could spot the enemy when they were decorated with Nazi insignia.

They would be playing more of a cunning game, where the wolf was disguised in sheep’s clothing. The rot was spreading deep within the gut of France, and the most dangerous enemy was the trusted one within.

After their disturbing first day, a week passed without anything to report, other than Lizzie and Jack exploring the chateau grounds and taking a couple of trips into the city.

Jack was growing more restless. ‘I don’t know what we’re supposed to be doing. There’s been no lead for us to follow so far. I mean, yes, some of the characters in the city look like they could easily be ripe pickings for the Resistance but where do we begin without revealing who we are?’

Lizzie agreed they were off to a slow start, but she was enjoying living with Jack in the comfortable tranquil chateau.

If only they could fully relax, it would be heavenly.

Waking up each morning and drifting off to sleep at night in Jack’s arms was like a dream come true, and one she had not imagined experiencing until the war was over.

Luc was the first member of their families who had seen them living openly as a couple.

‘How about we take a trip into the city this afternoon? That café we visited on the first day seemed like a good place to hang out to meet dissidents. But first, come back to bed,’ Lizzie said.

Jack who was striding around the room, restless, surrendered to her plea and lowered himself back on the giant bed next to Lizzie.

The sun streamed in through the open shutters, warming their faces.

‘You make a marvellous case for staying in bed all morning, Wife,’ he said, taking her in his arms. ‘Sorry, I get so uptight when I don’t have a plan. ’

‘Well now, you have one,’ she said coyly, tilting her head until her chestnut waves cascaded over one porcelain shoulder and Jack sucked in his breath, instantly distracted from his problem.

‘You’re right. The day can wait a while longer to begin. I have more important things to do first,’ he said, kissing Lizzie and making love to her until she moaned in delight under his exquisite attentions.

Luc was nowhere in sight when they went out to the terrace where they usually took breakfast, and when Jack enquired after the master of the house, the maid informed him Luc had left to do his rounds of the vineyards several hours earlier.

‘I think it will be wise if I take more of an active role in learning how the vineyards and the business operate,’ Jack said, between sips of coffee.

Lizzie savoured her portion of baguette and thinly sliced cheese.

‘Yes, that sounds like a good idea. If we do get any unwelcome guests asking awkward questions, you will be more believable. Should I join you? I also need to pass muster if I’m quizzed about the wine business.

What we need to do seems a bit vague to me, this time. ’

‘It does,’ Jack agreed. ‘That’s what was getting to me earlier. Building a network from scratch is always going to be a frustrating game, but something will pop soon. We just need to keep paying attention to what’s going on.’

After breakfast, they readied themselves to venture into the city for another reconnaissance mission.

Lizzie wore her lucky yellow scarf and as it was already blisteringly hot, she dressed in a modest summer dress and sun hat, as befitted a family member of the owner of the most prestigious chateau in the region.

‘I wish it wasn’t so hot. I would wear my new raincoat,’ Lizzie said.

‘Spoken like a true Brit. That’s not the first time you’ve mentioned it. Do you miss the rain already?’

Lizzie whispered in Jack’s ear. ‘It’s not that. It’s just they kitted me out with the most fabulous reversible raincoat. It’s two different colours and I’ve been dying to wear it again to try the other side.’

‘Oh, I see. Never fear, I’m sure we’ll get a summer storm one of these days and you can wear it then. I remember the storms here can be quite sudden and violent. Henry and I used to watch the rain beating down on the vines from the turret room, and we would pretend we lived here.’

‘Sounds perfect. I shall pray for some rain soon, then.’

On their way to the car, they saw a labourer busy shifting crates, and Jack called out a greeting. The man waved back and introduced himself as he wiped his shiny forehead with a handkerchief. His name was Pierre, and he said he’d been working in the vineyards for the past five years.

‘Can I drive this time?’ Lizzie asked as they neared the car.

‘Of course,’ Jack said. He opened the door for her and then circled the vehicle to the passenger side and jumped in.

Lizzie familiarised herself with the workings of the car and revved the guttural engine.

This was good, she needed to be in action, like when she was on her own undercover.

It was harder to be scared when she was busy.

‘I’ve never driven in France. When Hannah borrowed a truck in Paris, I decided I would remedy that at the first opportunity. ’

‘When you say borrowed , I take it you mean when she stole that milk truck?’

Lizzie laughed. ‘Yes, exactly, she meant no harm though.’

‘Hannah really inspired you, didn’t she?’

Lizzie glanced at him as she steered around the circular drive. The car nosed its way across the chateau courtyard and slid onto the narrow country road.

‘She’s amazing,’ Lizzie said.

‘How many times must I tell you, you are amazing?’

‘Keep on telling me, smooth talker,’ Lizzie said.

Lizzie pressed her foot hard on the accelerator and soon they were whizzing down the bendy hillside towards Toulouse.

‘Whoa,’ called Jack, gripping the dashboard. ‘You’re not holding back, I see.’

Lizzie’s yellow scarf flapped in the wind, whistling through the open windows.

‘Why should I, darling? You only live once. I mean to make the most of it …’

The car raced around the bends and Jack roared with laughter as he watched his gorgeous undercover wife clutch her hat to stop it flying away. Lizzie slowed as they reached the city and passed a row of pink-hued buildings.

‘You really are priceless, my love. What on earth would I have done if you hadn’t come along to rescue me from my miserable existence?’

Lizzie parked the car in a little back street, and turned to face Jack, her adoration for him illuminated in her green eyes. ‘That would never have happened. We were always meant to be together. You are my raven.’

Michel and Isabelle Dubois walked hand in hand across the Place du Capitole, luxuriating in their deep love for each other, unaware they were being watched closely by a man in a café beneath the arcades.