Zipporah's Daughter (Knave of Hearts) (29 page)

‘What of my father?’

‘Bring him with you.’

‘Do you think he would ever leave Aubigné?’

‘No.’

‘I shall not leave him as long as he wants me. It would be too cruel to go away. It would be worse for him than my being at Tourville. At least then I was in France.’

‘And what of me?’

‘You, Dickon? You are capable of taking care of yourself.’

‘You will see that I am right.’

‘I hope not.’

‘And I shall not give up. I shall continue to harry you. And one day you will realize that it is useless to hold out any longer.’

‘You mean you will come to France again on your secret mission?’

‘On my romantic mission. That is the only mission important to me.’

We talked and I swayed. I believed at some times I was on the point of giving up everything for Dickon. He had that effect on me. Then I heard again the voice of my mother and I remembered that I could not leave my father. So I tried to be content and make a happy life for myself in Aubigné.

Time passed quickly at Aubigné. There was so much to do. Lisette had added the task of governess to that of lady’s maid. She had always taught Louis-Charles when he was young and now she took over Claudine. I helped her and we enjoyed our sessions with Claudine, who was a bright child.

My father said the boys should have a tutor and he would look out for someone reliable and suitable.

The American war had come to an end and even King George had given his consent to the independence of the colony. Everyone was very pleased about that, including my father, who pointed out that the English had been soundly beaten and that as well as losing half a continent they had added millions to their national debt.

‘A piece of folly,’ he said.

And I thought of what Dickon had said about French participation in it. It had taken Charles; it had brought a republican spirit into France; Dickon had said that it could have far-reaching consequences, and although I tried to dismiss those implications from my mind I could not do so entirely.

I had been up to see Sophie on several occasions. I think she could bear to see me now that Charles was dead. Neither of us had him now. I believed that was how she saw it.

She managed to look quite pretty in a way. Jeanne, who was an expert seamstress, had devised a method of attaching hoods to her gowns; they always matched in colour or were beautifully blended; and they were designed to hide her scars completely.

I tried to make her believe that Charles and I had not been lovers before our marriage. I insisted that the flower she had found in his room had not been dropped there by me. I wished I could have found that flower, but although I had searched, I never had been able to. Charles had given it to me so long ago and I had never given it a thought until Sophie mentioned it. I greatly regretted that it was lost and I could not show it to Sophie to prove that I was speaking the truth. But she did not want to hear any more on the subject and I knew that if I persisted I should be prevented from going again to see her and I was trying very hard to get back to that relationship which we had once shared.

The children were a safer subject, but I did not take them to see her. It occurred to me that it might make her resentful of me if she saw the children, for she would immediately think that they might have been hers. So I merely told her about Charlot’s prowess at sport and how he enjoyed playing with Louis-Charles.

I knew that Lisette went to see her, and I thought it was a great breakthrough when Lisette and I went together and there were the three of us just as there used to be in the old days.

Lisette was a great asset. She could keep the conversation flowing in the right directions. She brought materials to show Jeanne and we all discussed the making of a new gown for Sophie.

I thought: One of these days we shall persuade her to come down and live like an ordinary member of the household. There was no reason why she should not. She looked rather pretty in her cleverly fashioned gowns, and the hood seemed like a charming fashion.

Jeanne would welcome us when we went up so I supposed we were making good progress.

There was a sudden change in Armand. He seemed to have become almost lively and there was a new sparkle in his eyes. It was as though he were taking a new and sudden interest in life.

I mentioned it to my father when I was sitting with him in the small room of his own apartments which he regarded as his very private sanctum. I was one of the few who were invited to join him there.

When I mentioned Armand, he smiled and said: ‘Yes, he has changed. So you noticed. He really is getting quite enthusiastic about this project.’

‘Has he a project then?’

‘Yes. Perhaps he is rather over-reacting. But on the other hand, it is a change to see him really getting interested in something. He is gathering together quite a little band of his friends. He was deeply affected, you know, by what …’ My father faltered and went on briskly: ‘By what happened to your mother.’

I nodded.

‘He has always had strong feelings about the rights of those born in high places and what happened was an outrage against his class.’

‘So it was that which affected him so deeply, not … ’

‘Armand’s feelings for people do not go very deep. But he can feel strongly for causes. People are like that. Have you noticed? Those who campaign on behalf of the masses very often have little feeling for the individuals. Armand is such a one. So what deeply affected him was the outrage against class. It has stirred him to action, and he is gathering together a number of his friends with some scheme in mind for forming an armed band to deal with those agitators who are making speeches in the towns. They seem to be the ones who are stirring up trouble. Indeed it was one of those … ’

I put my hand over my father’s. ‘Don’t talk of it,’ I said.

‘You are right. I should stop myself. It brings it all back more vividly. We were saying that Armand had changed and it is a change for the better. It is good to know that he can show some spirit about something. I thought he never could.’

‘What do they plan to do?’

‘I don’t quite know. When they find these agitators speaking to the people they will attempt to answer them … and if there is trouble they will be ready to deal with it.’

‘There really is a great deal of trouble in the country, I fear,’ I said.

‘That is so, my dear. Sometimes I say to myself as our King did, “Perhaps after me the deluge.” But it won’t come to that. There are men like Armand all over the country. They would soon deal with a revolt. Sometimes I wish it would come to the boil so that we could deal with it. It is these undercurrents, these subversive attempts to undermine law and order, which terrify me.’

I could see that the subject was dangerously near that one which could bring back such poignant memories and although they were never far from the surface of his mind I wanted to stop his plunging into them. So I talked of Charlot and asked how he was getting on with his chess which my father was teaching him.

‘Not bad … not bad at all. He lacks the necessary concentration … but he might play one day.’

‘He enjoys being with you.’

‘He likes best to talk about the castle.’ My father smiled. ‘I have had to look up our family history to satisfy him.’

‘Claudine likes too to get into this room.’

‘Ah, Claudine. She is a minx.’

There was no doubt what the children’s presence meant to him. How could I ever go to Dickon and take them away from him!

I vowed to myself that I would never leave Aubigné while my father lived.

The castle had its effect on Lisette. I realized that before we came here there had been a vague dissatisfaction in her manner. She had never talked about her farmer husband and I had not asked because I had quickly understood that that period of her life was something of which she did not wish to be reminded. It had brought her Louis-Charles, it was true, but although she was ambitious for him, she did not show him a great deal of tenderness.

But since we had returned to the castle she had become more like the old Lisette whom I had known when we were young girls. She used to come to my room to dress my hair and we had a great deal of fun trying out new hairstyles. At Court, under the influence of the most extravagant of queens, they were becoming more and more ridiculous. Ladies vied with each other to build up these towers of folly on their heads, using jewels, feathers and stuffed birds. Lisette amused herself by trying out ideas on her own and my hair.

I had always been fond of her but since my father had told me the pathetic story of her beginnings, I felt tender towards her, and when she was laughing and talking with me I often used to wonder what her life would have been like but for my father.

We talked about everything that came into our heads. We often discussed the children and I told her that now that they were growing up my father wanted to find a good tutor for the boys.

‘We can manage Claudine for a little while yet,’ she said, ‘but boys in their teens certainly do need a tutor.’

‘I dare say my father will find someone soon. He is waiting really until he goes to Paris and then he can make enquiries in certain quarters. He is most anxious to find the right sort of person.’

‘That is very important. And this tutor … he will teach Louis-Charles as well?’

‘But of course.’

I glanced at Lisette in the mirror. Her mouth had that old square look which I had noticed before. I construed it as a form of bitterness. She was very proud, I knew, and hated to accept charity.

I said quickly: ‘It is good for Charlot to have a companion round about his own age. I am so glad you had a son, Lisette.’

‘He certainly made a lot worth while.’ She had recovered and was smiling.

‘Armand seems to have changed lately,’ she added.

‘Oh yes, he has a project. The Comte was telling me about it.’

‘A project? What sort of project?’

‘Well, you know there is some concern about what is happening in the country.’

‘Is there?’ said Lisette.

‘Lisette, you must give some serious attention to these matters.’

‘Why?’

‘Because they concern you.’

‘How could they concern
me?

‘Remember my mother.’

‘Oh yes,’ said Lisette quietly.

‘There was an agitator in the town. It was his talk which aroused the fury of the mob.’

‘I know. Don’t talk about it. I can’t bear it. Your mother was such a charming …
good
lady.’

‘Apparently these agitators are travelling round the country. They are men with a gift for words. Well, people are getting rather worried about it. Even Armand.’

‘Even Armand!’ She echoed my words.

‘Yes, he and some friends are getting together apparently.’

‘What are they going to do?’

‘They will try to do something about it. I don’t know what.’

‘Oh … I see. Armand has certainly changed. He seems to have found something he can really care about.’

‘Armand was incensed by what happened to my mother. It evidently stirred him.’

‘To a hatred of the rabble?’

‘He always had that. But this brought home to him how much damage they could do. Well, he and his friends are getting together and they are going to do something. I think it’s a good thing, don’t you?’

‘That people should be aware of what is going on, yes.’

‘Dickon is always talking about it.’

‘Dickon! I thought when he was here he talked of other things!’

‘He does, but he talks a good deal about the state of affairs in France as well.’

‘What does he—the Englishman—know of French affairs?’

‘He seems to make it his business to find out.’

‘Does he tell you what he finds out?’

‘No. It is all rather secret, I gather. I accuse him of being on some mission.’

‘It would be against France, I suppose.’

‘I don’t know. He won’t talk of it.’

‘He is a fascinating man. I don’t know how you can resist him.’

I was very frank with Lisette as I had been in the past and I admitted that sometimes it was not easy.

She understood.

‘What if you married him?’ she said.

‘I have sworn never to leave my father.’

‘He would not wish you to stay, surely, if you would be happier married.’

‘It would be too much for him. If he knew I wanted to go he would say I should, I know. Think of it. I should take the children with me. It would be too cruel.’

‘And me … ? Would you take me with you?’

‘But of course you would come. You and Louis-Charles.’

‘I think the Comte is a little bit fond of Louis-Charles. Do you agree?’

‘I am sure he is. Louis-Charles is a delightful boy.’

‘I fancy I see the Comte’s eyes on him now and then, which is rather strange, don’t you think?’

‘No, I don’t. The Comte likes lively children. He is desperately missing my mother and the best thing that can happen to him is to have children in the house.’

‘His own … yes. But the way in which he looks at Louis-Charles … ’

‘Oh, Lisette, stop being so obsessed.’

‘With what?’ she asked sharply.

‘With position. You are always remembering that you are the niece of the housekeeper.’

‘Well, am I not?’

‘Yes, but it is not important.’

‘It is … now,’ she answered. ‘If those agitators had their way, perhaps it would be a good thing to be the niece of the housekeeper and not such a good thing to be the daughter of a Comte.’

‘What an absurd conversation! How do you think my hair would look with this green feather stuck in it at a ridiculous angle?’

‘Very amusing … and far more important than all this talk about boring matters.’ She snatched the green feather from me. ‘Here! Let’s put it there, so that it sticks right up at the back. Isn’t that grand?’

I gazed at my image in the mirror and grimaced at Lisette, who was watching me with her head on one side.

About a week later we had a visit from the Duc de Soissonson. This was quite unexpected and put the household in a turmoil.

Tante Berthe complained that she should have been told and immediately set to work ordering her staff in her usual efficient and peremptory manner. They were busy in the kitchens. The cook plunged into her prodigious memory and remembered that when the Duc had last stayed at the château, which was twelve years before, he had shown a preference for a very special potage, the recipe for which was a guarded secret known only to her family.