Zipporah's Daughter (Knave of Hearts) (14 page)

Armand was like any other young Frenchman. I was sure he had his amorous adventures but they were quite apart from marriage; and he was content with the match.

Both my father and mother realized that I was feeling the loss of Sophie’s company and they knew too that Lisette and I had been special friends; they tried in every way to help me over this depressing period which the loss of my young companions had brought me to; they took me to Paris, but somehow the delights of that city did not stir me out of my melancholy; they only served to remind me of it more vividly. In the streets I kept remembering that walk down the Champs-Elysees where the lamps were being hung; and I could not bear to go near the Place Louis XV.

There was a great deal of gaiety but I could not feel part of it. I listened to Court gossip, but it was immaterial to me whether Marie Antoinette received Madame du Barry or not. If the King was bewitched by this woman from the gutters of Paris—where some people said she came from—let him be. I did not care that the Barriens—the party round Madame du Barry—had succeeded in getting Minister Choiseul dismissed even though all this was of some importance to my father, who was deeply involved in Court intrigue. My mother used to be a little anxious about him because such activities could be dangerous. It was so easy to lose everything—one’s life as well as one’s estates. There were those dreaded
lettres de cachet
of which nobody spoke much because it was considered unlucky to do so.

But all the intrigue and gaiety of Paris could not lift me out of my gloom … until Charles came.

He must have known we were in Paris. I wondered afterwards whether my mother told him so. She knew that I was attracted by him and he by me; she still lived in her idealist world and saw life not as it was but as she wanted it to be. I think it was her innocence which had so attracted my father. I would have been ready to swear that since he had married her he had been entirely faithful to her. She would accept this as the natural course of events and not realize how very powerful was the attraction she had for him. And that was, of course, part of her innocence.

I would never have such. Perhaps it was a pity. On the other hand, it might be better to know the truth and face life as it really was.

So while we were in Paris Charles came there. We rode in the Bois together. We walked during the days. Once we rode out of the city towards St Cloud and when we had left the town behind us we dismounted and tethered our horses and walked among the trees.

He said: ‘You know I’m in love with you, Lottie.’

‘What goes for love with you, perhaps.’

‘I thought we were becoming friends.’

‘We have seen each other fairly frequently.’

‘That is not what I meant. I thought there was an understanding between us.’

‘I think I understand
you
very well.’

He stopped suddenly and caught me up in his arms. He kissed me … once … twice … and went on kissing me. I was bewildered, making an attempt to hold him off—but it was rather feeble.

‘Lottie, why won’t you be true to yourself?’ he asked.

I withdrew myself and cried: ‘True to myself? What does that mean?’

‘Admit you like me, that you want me in the same way as I want you.’

‘The last thing I should want is to be one of that multitude who have ministered to your desires … temporarily.’

‘You know that is not what I want. I want you permanently.’

‘Indeed?’

‘I want marriage.’

‘Marriage. But you are betrothed to Sophie.’

‘No longer. She has rejected me … irrevocably. Those were her words.’

‘And so now you would turn to me?’

‘I turned to you the moment I saw you.’

‘I remember. You were looking for a victim at Madame Rougemont’s.’

‘Didn’t I rescue you? Didn’t I look after you? I protected you from the wrath of your family. I have always sought to please you. I was betrothed to Sophie before I met you. You know how these marriages are arranged. But why shouldn’t there be one which is a love-match, and why shouldn’t that be ours?’

I felt my heart leap with excitement. I could not curb my exultation. Escape from the gloomy château with its memories. Sophie in her turret, Lisette gone. One day so like another … and my inability to rouse myself from my lethargy and depression.

I struggled to suppress my elation.

I said: ‘There is Sophie.’

‘It is accepted now that she will never marry. It would not surprise me if she made up her mind to enter a convent. The life would suit her. But that does not mean that I must remain unmarried all my life. I have spoken to your father.’

I stared at him.

‘Don’t look alarmed,’ he said. ‘I have had a very encouraging answer. Your mother is anxious that you shall not be forced to do anything you do not wish. But the glorious truth is that I have your father’s permission to lay my heart at your feet.’

I laughed at the expression and he laughed too. He had a ready wit and he was well aware—how could he be otherwise?—that I knew the sort of life he had led. Our first meeting had been indicative of that.

‘So,’ he went on, ‘Mademoiselle Lottie, I hereby ask you to become my wife. At least,’ he went on, ‘you hesitate. Do you see, I feared a determined No. Not that I should have accepted it, but it is encouraging not to be refused in the first few seconds.’

‘You must see how impossible the whole thing would be.’

‘I don’t. I see it as perfectly possible.’

‘What of Sophie?’

‘Sophie has made the choice. She has left me free.’

‘And you think that with her in that turret, you and I … ’

He gripped me by the shoulders and looked into my face.

‘I want you Lottie,’ he said. ‘You will have such a wonderful time with me. You will see. I will awaken you to such delights that you never dreamed of.’

‘I am not interested … ’

‘Now, Lottie, I know you well. You are bursting from your shell. You long to experience that of which you have heard so much. I am sure you have had endless discussions with that girl—what was her name?—the one who came to Rougemont’s with you.’

‘You mean Lisette. She is married now.’

‘And enjoying life, I’ll swear. She would. She was that sort of girl. Dear Lottie, so are you. You will marry one day. Why not me? Wouldn’t you rather choose for yourself than have someone choose for you?’

‘Certainly I will make my own choice.’

‘Well, then, having your father’s permission to woo you, I shall begin now.’

‘Save yourself the trouble.’

His answer was to pick me up in his arms and hold me, looking up at me and laughing.

‘Put me down,’ I said. ‘What if we were seen?’

‘Everyone will understand. A gallant gentleman and a beautiful lady. Why shouldn’t they be in love?’

Slowly he lowered me until my face was on a level with his.

‘Lottie,’ he murmured. ‘Oh, Lottie.’

And I just wanted to be held like that. I felt suddenly that life had become interesting again.

It was decided that Armand should be married at Christmas, which would mean that we would spend Christmas at Brammont, Marie Louise’s family home not far from Orléans.

Sophie would not come and declared her intention of staying at the château where she would be well looked after by Jeanne. Although my mother at first attempted to persuade her, she was relieved. The festive season would have been scarcely festive with Sophie hiding herself away and everyone knowing she was there.

So we made our preparations to go to Brammont without her.

After the wedding Armand and his bride would return to Aubigné and make their home there. I hoped I should get on well with Marie Louise. It would be pleasant to have another woman in the house, though she was a serious girl and very religious and I could not imagine anyone less like Lisette.

I often wondered about Lisette. I had heard nothing from her. I had asked Tante Berthe for her address as I intended to write to her, but Tante Berthe said leave it for a while for Lisette was travelling with her husband and would be away for some months.

I did discover that her husband owned land. I imagined he was a farmer.

‘I hope she will be happy,’ I said. ‘I cannot imagine Lisette on a farm.’

‘Lisette was very contented, I do assure you,’ said Tante Berthe.

But she would not give me the address.

‘Later on,’ she promised. ‘When they are settled.’

I was, of course, rather immersed in my own affairs at the time and the possibility which had arisen in connection with Charles.

My mother talked of the matter with me.

‘He is very much in love with you, Lottie, and your father would be happy with the match. He says he will give you the dowry he promised Sophie. I know the Tourvilles would be very happy with the marriage.

‘What of Sophie?’

‘Sophie has chosen her way of life. She will expect others to do the same. Poor Sophie. It was tragic … and just as she was beginning to forget her shyness. But it happened. It is life. It could have happened to anyone. Oh my darling, how relieved I am that you came safely out of all that. I want you to be as happy as I have been. I often marvel at the way things turned out for me.’

‘Dear Mother,’ I told her, ‘they turned out well because you are what you are. The Comte loves you because you are so different from all these people whom we meet.’

She looked amazed and realized that she did not see them as I did.

I went on quickly: ‘I think so much about Sophie. It would not seem right to marry the man who was to have been her husband.’

‘That would have been an arranged marriage.’

‘But she loved him very much.’

‘Sophie would have loved anyone who took notice of her. Poor girl, her life is tragic but she must not be allowed to stand in the way of your happiness. If you married Charles you would not live here … not like Armand. This is his home. The château will be his one day. But you will go to your husband’s house. You can build a life for yourself … have children … be happy … forget that terrible night. Forget Sophie.’

‘I wish I could.’

She smiled at me and put her arm about me. ‘My dearest child, you know you are doubly dear to me … coming as you did. You brought great happiness to Jean-Louis and to me. More than anything I want to see you happy.’

‘And you think that if I married Charles de Tourville … ’

‘I know it because I have watched you closely. You hold back but you don’t want to. As for him, I have rarely seen a man more in love.’

And so it was when we went to Brammont for Armand’s wedding.

The Brammont château was a good deal smaller than that of Aubigné but built in the same style with tall slate roofs and pepperpot towers. It was delightful, more charming in fact than the larger castles. I was enchanted by the arabesque friezes, sculptured niches and pinnacled windows.

There was more than the usual Christmas activity as this was to be the occasion of the wedding as Well, which was to take place two days after Christmas Day. The château was filled with guests and family and I was surprised to find that the Tourvilles were there.

It was not long before Charles sought me out. He was obviously delighted because we should spend Christmas under the same roof.

We rode, we danced, we sang Christmas hymns. It was different from our Christmases in England, but I was accustomed to these celebrations now. There was no punchbowl nor wassailing which had been such a feature of our Christmases at Clavering; but we were all celebrating the same event.

I was enjoying everything very much and was happier than I had been for some months. Verbal sparring with Charles exhilarated me and when he kissed me and held me against him—which he did whenever possible—I had to admit I was excited.

The marriage was celebrated in the château chapel and afterwards there was a banquet. Charles had been seated next to me at this, for it seemed general knowledge that there was an understanding between us.

The Catholic ceremony of marriage had reminded me that I was a Protestant. My father had not suggested that I change my religion, although the matter had never been gone into. My mother had gone through some formality before her marriage. It now occurred to me that if I married in France it would very likely be that my husband was a Catholic, and although that might not be of paramount importance, the problem would certainly arise if there were children.

When Charles was telling me how foolish I was to delay giving him an affirmative answer, before I could stop myself I blurted out: ‘What about the children?’

‘What children?’ he asked in amazement.

‘Of the marriage.’

‘Ours, you mean. Then this is your answer. It is yes. My dearest Lottie, at last! I shall have it announced this very day.’

‘But I didn’t say … ’

‘You said, What about the children? My dear girl, you are not suggesting we have children without the blessing of clergy?’

‘It was thinking aloud.’

‘You were thinking of us … our children. What were you going to say about them?’

‘I am not a Catholic’

He looked serious for a moment. Then he said: ‘That’s easy. You could become one.’

‘I would not do that. Don’t you see, this is the reason why I cannot marry you.’

‘Such reasons can easily be dealt with.’

‘How? Would you give up your religion?’

‘I have to confess that I have not much religion.’

‘I gathered that by your conduct.’

He laughed. ‘Dear Lottie,’ he said. ‘Seriously, it is something of a habit. But this matter of the children.’ He narrowed his eyes and surveyed me. ‘We wouldn’t let it come between us. I am a reasonable man. You wouldn’t change, you say. I can see you are adamant on that point. Very well. How is this? Our first boy will be the heir. He would have to be a Catholic. But the girls we shall have, well, they will be yours. The boy for me … the necessity of an ancient family and all that … for future inheritance and so on. You understand. And the girls for you. That’s fair, isn’t it?’

‘I suppose it is.’

‘Then why are we waiting? I shall announce our betrothal tonight.’

And that was how it happened; and, in truth, it was what I wanted. It was what I had wanted for a long time.