Zipporah's Daughter (Knave of Hearts) (12 page)

‘If the girls go willingly I suppose it is not the same as if they are taken by force …’

‘Force? That is not the gentleman’s way. You can be sure that all those little girls in the
trébuchet
and the Parc aux Cerfs went willingly enough. A period of service … and then the rewards. It was irresistible.’

‘And those who were lured into the fortune-telling apartment?’

‘Some might have had to be persuaded. But girls who consult fortune-tellers are looking for adventures, would you not say?’

‘I suppose I should be grateful to you for sending us home.’

‘You should indeed. How nice of you to remember. Perhaps the occasion will arise when you have the opportunity to show your gratitude.’

‘Let us confine it to words.’

‘For the moment,’ he said.

As we walked through the streets he said: ‘The wedding fever is still in the air. It won’t die down until after the fireworks display.’

‘Shall we be able to see it from the
hôtel?’

‘Not very well. I think we might get out. All Paris will be out for the night. I know what we will do. We will make up our little foursome. Armand, you, Sophie and myself. You would like that, would you not?’

I had to agree that I should.

I was sorry when we returned to the
hôtel
to find that Sophie was already back with my mother.

‘We took a little walk,’ said Charles. ‘It is such a beautiful day.’

Sophie was looking at me intently.

‘I came to suggest that
we
take a walk,’ went on Charles, smiling at Sophie.

‘Had you forgotten that I had told you I was going to the dressmaker?’

‘I thought it was this afternoon.’

He went over to her and laid his hand on her shoulder. ‘How pretty you look this morning,’ he said. ‘Are they making you some beautiful clothes?’

She smiled at him, her suspicions melting away.

What a liar he is! I thought. And what a good actor! Poor Sophie, I hope she is not going to be badly hurt.

I
T WAS THE DAY
of the fireworks and we were all eagerly waiting for dusk.

Armand had said we should try to get as near as possible to the Place Louis XV, and he and Charles debated whether it would be best to take a carriage.

‘We shall never get through those little streets,’ said Armand. ‘The press of people will be too great.’

‘Well, let’s go on foot if the ladies are willing.’

Both Sophie and I said we should do that.

‘Wear cloaks,’ advised Charles. ‘We don’t want to look conspicuous. And watch, for there will be pickpockets abroad tonight. I’ll swear that they are already swarming into Paris.’

So it was agreed and we went. I was glad to see that Sophie had recovered her happiness and was as ready to enjoy the evening as any of us. But she was by nature timid and she was soon apprehensive of the crowds.

‘Lottie,’ she whispered to me, ‘I don’t like all these people. I wish we could go home.’

‘But we have come to see the fireworks.’

‘There are too many crowds.’

‘It’s going to be fun,’ I assured her.

I thought of that often in the years to come. If only I had agreed with her and we had persuaded the men to take us back!

We were jostled. Charles caught my arm and held me against him. Sophie saw the gesture and a look of anguish appeared on her face.

‘It’s too crowded,’ she whispered.

‘My dear, what did you expect?’ asked Charles. ‘This show is for the whole of Paris, not just for us.’

She didn’t answer but turned slightly away. I was sure there were tears in her eyes.

Armand said: ‘They are going to start now.’

A cry went up from the crowd as the fireworks exploded, illuminating the sky.

More people were crowding into the square and it was difficult to keep one’s balance. And then … suddenly it happened. Something had gone wrong with the fireworks which were shooting up into the sky. They were exploding with sharp reports and were falling … falling on the people in the square.

There was the briefest of silences followed by screaming voices. Then there was pandemonium. I felt myself caught up. It was Charles who picked me up and held me above the crowd.

‘Sophie!’ he screamed.

I could not see Sophie but I was aware of Armand, his eyes wide, bewildered and frantic.

Then I did see Sophie. I was seized with horror for some of the sparks from the fireworks had fallen on her hood, which was on fire.

Armand had seized her and was trying to smother the flames. I felt sick and faint. Charles was shouting: ‘Get her out …We’ve all got to get out of here.’

Sophie had fallen. I prayed swiftly: ‘Oh God, please save her. She will be trampled to death.’

In a few seconds I saw her again. Armand had picked her up and put her over his shoulder. She was limp but the fire was out.

Charles cried: ‘Follow me.’

He had slung me over his shoulder as though I were a sack of coal. All around us were screaming people pushing in all directions in their efforts to get out of the square. I saw pushing hands and frantic faces and the noise was deafening.

Charles was forcing his way through the crowd. I could no longer see Armand and Sophie and I had a terrible fear that they had been trampled underfoot.

Perhaps people are blessed with superhuman strength when faced with certain situations. I really believed Charles possessed it on that night. It is difficult now to recall the stark horror of everything about us. Some people had brought their carriages into the square and were now trying to get out. The horses seemed to be maddened by the press of people and there was a further danger as carriages toppled over and the horses tried to break free. The noise was unearthly and terrible.

I was expecting to fall at any moment but Charles kept steadily forging his way through the crowd. There was a relentlessness about him, a ruthless determination to save us at any cost. He was the sort of man who was accustomed to getting what he wanted and now all his efforts were concentrated on getting us safely out of the square.

I looked about for Armand and Sophie but could not see them. I could see nothing but that seething mass of panicking, hysterical people.

I could not say how long it lasted. I was only aware of fear and anxiety, not only for ourselves but for Sophie and Armand. A terrible premonition came to me that nothing was ever going to be the same after that night.

Some of the buildings were ablaze and that had started a fresh panic; fortunately for us it was on the far side of the square.

I can still hear the sounds of screams, the sobbing and anguished cries when I recall that fearful night.

But Charles brought me safely through. I remember always his pale face grimy with smoke … his clothes awry, his wig lost exposing his fine dark hair so that he seemed like a different man. I knew that if I survived that night I should have him to thank for it.

When we were apart from the crowd … and safe, Charles put me down. I had no idea where we were except that we had escaped from the Place Louis XV.

‘Lottie,’ he said in a voice such as I had never heard him use before.

I looked at him and his arms were round me. We clung together. There were many people about. Some had come from the nightmare square; others were spectators who had come out to see what was happening. No one took any notice of us.

‘Thank God,’ said Charles. ‘Are you … are you all right?’

‘I think so. And you … you did it all.’

There was a flicker of the old pleasantry but it did not seem quite natural. ‘I did it just to show that I am always at your service.’

Then suddenly we were laughing and I think nearly crying at the same time.

Immediately we remembered Sophie and Armand. We looked back at the square. Smoke was rising to the sky and we could still hear the shouts and screams of people fighting to get free.

‘Do you think … ?’ I began.

‘I don’t know.’

‘The last I saw of Armand he was carrying her.’

‘Armand would get through,’ said Charles.

‘Poor Sophie. I think she was badly hurt. Her hood was on fire for a time.’

We were silent for a few seconds. Then Charles said: ‘There is nothing to do but get back quickly. We’ll have to walk I’m afraid. There is nothing to take us back.’

So we began our walk to the
hôtel.

My mother took me into her arms.

‘Oh, Lottie … Lottie …thank God …’

I said: ‘Charles saved me. He carried me through.’

‘God bless him!’ said my mother.

‘Sophie and Armand …’

‘They are here. Armand stopped a carriage and they were brought back. It was ten minutes ago. Your father has sent for the doctors. Armand is safe. Poor Sophie … But the doctors will be here at any moment. Oh, my dear, dear child.’

I felt limp, dazed, exhausted and unable to stand up.

As we went into the
salon
my father ran out. When he saw me he took me into his arms and held me tightly. He kept saying my name over and over again.

Armand came towards us.

‘Armand!’ I cried with joy.

‘I got through,’ he said. ‘I was lucky. I brought Sophie out and there was a carriage. I made them bring us back here.’

‘Where is Sophie?’ I asked.

‘In her room,’ said my mother.

‘She … ?’

My mother was silent and my father put an arm round me. ‘We don’t know yet,’ he said. ‘She has suffered some burns. The doctors must come soon.’

I sat down on a couch with my mother beside me. She had her arm round me and held me as though she would never let me go.

I lost count of time. I could not shut out of my mind all that horror. I kept thinking of Sophie and the waiting was almost as terrible as that nightmare journey through the crowd.

That was a night which none of us—including the entire French nation—was going to forget for a very long time. What had gone wrong with the fireworks no one knew and had the people remained calm the damage would not have been great. But the panic of the crowd to get out of the square in frantic haste had resulted in many being trampled to death and one hundred and thirty-two people had been killed outright and two thousand badly injured on that terrible night.

Remembering the storm on the wedding day, people began to ask themselves if God was displeased with this marriage. They were to remember what they called these omens later.

I had prayed so fervently that Sophie should not die and I rejoiced when my prayers were answered; but I have sometimes wondered whether had Sophie been given the choice she would have chosen to live.

She kept to her bed for several weeks. The day which should have been her wedding-day came and went. None of her bones had been broken—Armand had saved her from being trampled to death—but one side of her face had been so badly burned that the scars would be with her forever.

My mother nursed her and I wanted to help but whenever I went into the room Sophie was disturbed.

My mother said: ‘She does not want you to see her face.’

So I stayed away, but I wanted to be with her, to talk to her, to comfort her if I could.

Even when she rose from her bed she would not leave her room and she did not want anyone to be with her except her maid, Jeanne Fougere, who was devoted to her and of whom she had become very fond.

Jeanne spent her days in Sophie’s apartments and both my father and mother were grateful to the girl, for she seemed to be able to comfort Sophie as no one else could. I had hoped that I should be able to, but it was very clear that my half-sister did not want that.

Jeanne was clever with her fingers and she devised a kind of hood of blue silk which covered half of Sophie’s face. Fortunately the burns had not touched her eyes although one side of her face was badly scorched and the hair would never grow again there; but it was the lower part of her jaw which had caught the full fury of the flames. The hood which Jeanne had made was, said my mother, very effective.

‘She will emerge from her room in time,’ went on my mother. ‘And your father thinks that we should return to the country. Sophie will feel better there. The sooner she gets away from the place where it happened the better.’

I said: ‘The wedding will have to be postponed for some time, I suppose.’

My mother was thoughtful. ‘She won’t see Charles,’ she said.

‘I suppose she can’t bear him to see … ’

‘Poor girl. It may be that now … ’

‘You mean he won’t want to marry her?’

‘I don’t know. The Tourvilles are very eager for the marriage. A good deal is involved.’

‘Settlements? Money?’

‘Yes, and your father would have liked an alliance with the Tourvilles. Sophie, however, has told Jeanne that she will never marry now.’

‘She may change her mind. She loved Charles very much.’

‘Well, you know she was always nervous … unsure of herself. The betrothal made such a difference to her. Now, of course, she just wants to hide herself away.’

‘I wish she would see me.’

‘I can understand it. Perhaps it is because you are so very pretty. I think she has always been a little … well, not exactly jealous but aware that you are more attractive than she is.’

‘Oh … nonsense.’

‘Not nonsense at all. It is all very natural. She was never very attractive herself; although she did change after the engagement.

‘Is Charles willing to go ahead?’

‘Yes. As soon as it can be arranged.’

‘So it is just Sophie.’

‘No doubt she will change her mind. We must wait and see. And now your father thinks that the best thing we can do is return to the country.’

So we did. Sophie sat in the carriage huddled in the corner, her face covered by Jeanne’s hood and her cloak wrapped tightly around her.

I tried to talk to her but she clearly showed she did not want me to. I wished that Lisette was in our carriage but she did not of course travel with us. She had gone ahead to the château in the company of Tante Berthe.

It was a very gloomy journey.

Everything changed after the night of the fireworks. The château was different; it was as though the ghosts of so many who had suffered there had come out of their hiding places to remind us that life was cruel.