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families—would host
Le Bal du Muguet
, a sumptuous ball that was the highlight of the spring social season. This year,
     as Astrid entered the arched passageway leading into the L’Herme-Pierres’ splendid
hôtel particulier
on Île Saint-Louis, she was handed a delicate sprig of flowers by a footman in smart
     black-and-gold livery. “It’s after Charles IX, you know. He would present lilies of
     the valley to all the ladies at Fontainebleau every May Day,” a woman wearing a tiara
     explained to her as they emerged into the courtyard where hundreds of miniature eighteenth-century
     hot-air balloons floated among the topiaries.
    Astrid barely had time to take in the delightful sight when the Vicomtesse Nathalie
     de L’Herme-Pierre pounced on her. “I’m so glad you could make it,” Nathalie effused,
     greeting Astrid with quadruple cheek kisses. “My goodness, is that
linen
? Only
you
could get away with wearing a simple linen dress to a ball, Astrid!” The hostess
     laughed, admiring the delicate Grecian folds of Astrid’s buttercup-yellow gown. “Wait
     a minute … is this an
original
Madame Grès?” Nathalie asked, realizing that she had seen a similar dress at the
     Musée Galliera.
    “From her early period,” Astrid replied, almost embarrassed to have been found out.
    “But of course. My goodness, Astrid, you’ve outdone yourselfonce again. How on earth did you get your hands on an early Grès?” Nathalie asked
     in awe. Recovering herself, she whispered, “I hope you don’t mind, but I have put
     you next to Grégoire. He is being a
beast
tonight, as he thinks I am still fucking the Croatian. You are the only person I
     can trust next to him at dinner. But at least you’ll have Louis on your left.”
    “Don’t worry about me. I always enjoy catching up with your husband, and it will be
     a treat to sit next to Louis—I just saw his new film the other day.”
    “Wasn’t it a pretentious bore? Hated the black-and-white, but at least Louis looked
     edible with his clothes off. Anyway, thank you for being my savior. Are you sure you
     have to leave tomorrow?” the hostess asked with a pout.
    “I’ve been gone almost a month! I’m afraid my son will forget who I am if I stay one
     more day,” Astrid answered as she was ushered along into the grand foyer, where Nathalie’s
     mother-in-law, the Comtesse Isabelle de L’Herme-Pierre, presided over the receiving
     line.
    Isabelle let out a small gasp when she caught sight of Astrid. “Astrid,
quelle surprise
!”
    “Well, I wasn’t sure that I would be able to attend until the last minute,” Astrid
     said apologetically, smiling at the stiff-looking grande dame standing beside Comtesse
     Isabelle. The woman did not smile back. Rather, she tilted her head ever so slightly
     as if appraising every inch of Astrid, the gigantic emerald earrings fastened to her
     long earlobes swaying precariously.
    “Astrid Leong, permit me to present my dear friend Baronne Marie-Hélène de la Durée.”
    The baronne nodded curtly, before turning back to the comtesse and resuming their
     conversation. As soon as Astrid had moved on, Marie-Hélène said to Isabelle,
sotto voce
, “Did you notice that necklace she was wearing? I saw it at JAR last week. It’s unbelievable
     what these girls can get their hands on nowadays. Tell me, Isabelle,
whom
does she belong to?”
    “Marie-Hélène, Astrid is not a kept woman. We’ve known her family for years.”
    “Oh? Who is her family?” Marie-Hélène asked in astonishment.
    “The Leongs are a Chinese family from Singapore.”
    “Ah yes, I’ve heard that the Chinese are getting quite rich thesedays. In fact, I read that there are now more millionaires in Asia than in all of
     Europe. Who would have ever imagined?”
    “No, no, I’m afraid you don’t quite understand. Astrid’s people have been wealthy
     for generations.
Her father is one of Laurent’s biggest clients
,” Isabelle whispered.
    “My