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L izzie immediately liked Jack’s uncle and could see he was a forceful character with a sense of humour.

A maid tapped on the door and served breakfast, and Lizzie devoured the poached egg on a piece of black bread.

Eggs were hard to come by back home, and Lizzie’s tastebuds sang a symphony as she ate the freshly laid egg.

‘We have hung onto a few of our own hens,’ said Luc.

‘How fortunate,’ Lizzie said.

‘Yes, it is. As long as we can keep the German army at bay, otherwise they will take them all for themselves.’

‘Coffee?’ Luc asked.

‘Thank you,’ Lizzie said, sipping the hot, seedy coffee with relish. It didn’t seem to matter where she went, the coffee was just as bad, but she’d grown used to the bitter flavour.

Jack told Luc why they had come and asked him to pretend Jack was a distant cousin from Brittany, rather than his sister’s son.

‘Right, I think I’m grasping the essence of your story. What part do you want me to play?’ Luc asked, his eyes gleaming.

‘The last thing we mean to do is put you in danger, but clearly there is an element of risk if we are discovered.’

Luc gazed out over his vineyards and his eyes wandered to the lavender haze that cast a riot of glorious colour over the fields in the distance.

‘Those Nazi bastards want all this for themselves. I’d rather die than let them have it, so count me in. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you.’

‘Thank you. I thought you didn’t like the English, Uncle,’ Jack said in a low murmur, one eyebrow raised.

‘The English are the least of my troubles now. We’ve got our own mini-Hitlers in France who are only too happy to throw in their lot with the Thousand-Year Reich, if it means they line their pockets. They’ve forgotten where their loyalties lie and have made a pact with the devil.’

Jack listened as he finished his breakfast.

Luc cleared his throat. ‘You’d better call me Luc, my boy. Start as we mean to go on. One slip up could cost us dearly.’ His eyes moved to Lizzie. ‘And you, too. Please call me Luc, and know you are very welcome here. After this dark period in our history is over, you shall call me uncle.’

‘Thank you,’ said Lizzie, relieved they were off to a smooth start.

Things could easily have gone differently if Luc wasn’t keen or even willing to cooperate.

They had formulated a backup plan, but staying at the chateau as Luc’s family was vastly preferable to fending for themselves in Toulouse.

Now they would have a safe base from which to operate and begin building their new network.

Jack and Lizzie exchanged a jubilant look.

‘Are you from London too?’ Luc asked Lizzie, his voice low, as he refilled their cups.

Lizzie shook her head. ‘I moved to London with my family, before the Germans invaded the Channel Islands. I was born in Jersey, actually.’

Luc’s eyes registered surprise. ‘How wonderful. So, you’re a little bit French, one might say.’

‘A little bit,’ Lizzie agreed, her mouth curving into an indulgent smile. If he wanted her to be French, she would be French. She’d always felt half French, anyway. Her father could trace his ancestors back ten centuries in France.

‘You speak our language beautifully,’ Luc said.

Jack said, ‘That’s how we met. Lizzie was a translator at the start of the war. It’s probably best we don’t tell you more. For now, let us be your distant cousins from Brittany.’

‘Well, that’s close to Jersey. I see why you picked it for your cover. What a clever pair you are and so well-suited. Are you really married or is that part of the charade?’

Jack answered smoothly without missing a beat and laid his hand on Lizzie’s. ‘We’re really married. It was love at first sight. It just so happens we work well together, too.’

‘How romantic,’ Luc said, and Lizzie wondered whether he believed them or was just playing along.

They finished breakfast and went back inside. ‘Let me show you some of the chateau.’

They followed behind him as he took them on a tour of the ground floor. ‘There is so much to see. We will tour it in parts.’

‘What a beautiful home, Luc. You must be very proud,’ Lizzie said.

‘I am proud, although it’s rather big for just me and the small staff I keep these days.’

‘Were you never married?’ Lizzie asked. Then she hesitated. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.’

‘Nonsense, my dear. I’m alone in this grand house so much of the time, it’s an absolute pleasure to have you to listen to my ramblings.

If I talk too much, you must tell me, yes?

’ His eyes shone and Lizzie warmed to him further.

‘The truth is, I always meant to marry, but it never quite happened. I fell madly in love as a young man, but sadly, my fiancée died from scarlet fever.’

‘Oh goodness, I am so sorry to bring up sad memories for you, Luc.’

‘Not at all. I think often of my darling Mirabelle. It keeps her alive in my mind. The years have passed, but the memories linger on.’

Lizzie noticed his eyes shone, and she regretted bringing up such a poignant event for the old man.

She had only meant to make polite conversation to put him at ease.

She was, after all, an absolute stranger in his home, who had thrust herself upon his hospitality with no warning, unlike Jack, who was a blood relation, even if they hadn’t seen each other for years.

Luc continued talking softly, as if in a dream, as they meandered from one huge elegant high-ceilinged room to another, taking in the majesty of the old chateau.

‘I never met the right woman after Mirabelle. I would have loved to fill this place with children, but it wasn’t meant to be. Fate had different plans.’

Lizzie churned with emotion for Luc’s lost love, and she glanced at Jack. How lovely that the old man would have his nephew’s company for a while.

The housekeeper reappeared and showed Lizzie and Jack to the rooms she had made up for them, and Lizzie’s mouth opened slightly when she showed them inside.

Like in the rooms on the ground floor, an exquisite chandelier hung from the high ceiling of intricate carvings on exposed wooden beams, and the open shuttered windows overlooked the breathtaking view of Toulouse, the pink city, nestled in the curves of the Garonne River.

An enormous bed stood on one side of the largest room, and plush upholstery covered the opulent yet dated furniture.

It was like stepping back in time to an earlier century.

When the housekeeper left them, Lizzie wandered around the adjoining room and called out to Jack. ‘We even have our own private sitting room. Have I died and gone to French heaven? These rooms are breathtaking.’

Jack opened his bag and removed a few items of clothing he had placed strategically around their radio to pad it for the drop.

Lizzie reappeared at his side. ‘I don’t know how you travel with so few items. I swear if you didn’t need to buffer the radio, you wouldn’t have even brought a case.’

Jack ran his fingers across the stubble on his face. ‘I think you may be right. I prefer to travel light.’

Lizzie opened her own little case, which had several hidden compartments sewn into the lining. ‘What will you do for clothing, then?’

‘I’ll ask Luc if he has any for me. If not, I’ll get some in the city. It’s a good excuse to get into conversation with the locals.’

Lizzie unpacked and hung her clothes in the antique wardrobe, and placed her few belongings in the rickety drawers of a heavy wooden chest. She left her secret items in the compartments of the case, away from prying eyes.

‘Do you think we can trust the housekeeper and maids?’ Lizzie asked.

‘I don’t know, but let’s act as though we can’t. I’ll keep an eye on them, and it will no doubt become apparent in time where their sympathies lie.’

Lizzie agreed that was a sound plan, and she would watch them too.

‘Wasn’t it a tragic love story about Luc’s fiancée dying and leaving him unmarried for his whole life?’

‘Tragic indeed. I confess I never heard a word about it until today,’ Jack said.

‘Well, you know how parents like to keep anything interesting from us when we’re young,’ Lizzie said.

‘Yes, but I’m a grown man in my thirties.’

Lizzie teased, ‘You’re quite advanced in age and your mother still keeps secrets from you.’

‘Not that advanced, thank you very much, you cheeky minx, but yes, it would seem so. Not as many as I keep from her, though,’ he chuckled.

‘Maybe it’s her little slice of revenge,’ Lizzie said.

‘I’d like you to meet my mother soon. It’s odd you met my uncle before you met her.’

‘Well, if he’s anything to go by, I’m sure I’ll love your mother.’

‘And she’ll love you even more if you tell her your ten centuries of French ancestors’ story!’

‘It’s not a story, it’s true. It is rather popular with the French,’ Lizzie said. ‘May as well play to my strengths, even if Jersey has been part of the British Crown since 1066, and I’m a loyal British citizen.’

‘True.’

‘I’m going to have a wash,’ Lizzie said.

‘I’ll ask Luc if he’s got a change of clothes for me, and then I suggest we find our way into the city.’

Lizzie was excited by the thought of visiting Toulouse for the very first time. How different this mission felt from her previous ones. She could almost pretend it was a real honeymoon, and as she washed, she twiddled the slim gold band on her wedding finger.

Lizzie's heart swelled with love for Jack, and she was determined to make the most of this unusual situation, which she never could have imagined. She was Madame Isabelle Dubois, and they would live as man and wife in the South of France.

Lizzie had a feeling their visit would be one to remember.