Zipporah's Daughter

The Procuress

THERE WAS GREAT EXCITEMENT throughout the capital and indeed throughout the entire country because of the royal wedding. The people seemed to have forgotten their grievances and were growing excited at the prospect of all the fetes and entertainments which would be planned to celebrate the great occasion. The weather was beautiful; the may was in blossom; and it was a time for rejoicing.

It was three years since my mother had married my father and it amazed me to see how happy they were together. I think I had grown a little cynical. Dickon’s defection had made me grow up overnight. I still thought of him; he was enshrined in my heart as the perfect lover and no matter what I heard of him, nothing could change that. I used to talk about him to Lisette and Sophie and would build up romantic dreams, the theme of which was that there had been a terrible mistake; he had not written that letter jilting me; he had not married, and all this time he had been pining for me, for he had received a false letter from me.

It eased me, that dream, ridiculous as it was, for there were letters from my grandmother and Sabrina telling us how wonderful Dickon was and how happy with his dear wife Isabel, who had brought him a fortune and new interests in life.

My mother always gave me the letters to read with a certain embarrassment and apprehension, but I had learned to hide my feelings; I would read them avidly and then go away and tell myself I didn’t believe a word of them.

‘Dickon’s father-in-law is a very influential man,’ wrote Sabrina. ‘He is a banker and some high official at Court. It is all rather secret and we are not sure what he does there. He has his finger in many pies … and that means Dickon has too. You may be sure he makes the most of everything that comes his way …’

Once my grandmother and Sabrina came to visit us. They wanted to assure themselves that my mother and I were really happy.

Dickon did not come with them. ‘I suppose he can’t get his fingers out of all those pies,’ I said maliciously.

They laughed and replied that Dickon was indeed busy. He was in London a great deal and there was Eversleigh to run. He surrounded himself with good men … the right people.

‘He talks of you often, Lottie,’ said my grandmother. ‘He was so sweet to you when you came to stay, wasn’t he? Not many young men would have taken so much notice of a little girl.’

My mother put in rather tartly: ‘He took a lot of notice of Eversleigh and that included Lottie at that time.’

My grandmother ignored that and insisted: ‘It was a charming gesture to take so much interest in a little girl and he used to do everything to make Lottie happy.’

Yes, I thought. He kissed me in a way that I find hard to forget. He talked to me of marriage … and how happy we should be together. He persuaded me to love him. He tricked me, and when he got Eversleigh he jilted me.

I knew now that my mother had contrived it. She had sent for my father who had come and changed everything. Then she had given up Eversleigh because she thought that when Dickon had it he would cease to want me.

And how right she had been! I suppose I should have been grateful to her, but I wasn’t. I wouldn’t have cared for what reason Dickon wanted me. Perhaps I refused to let myself forget him; perhaps the idea of lost love pleased me, made me feel that my life, though tragic, was full of interest. That may well have been the case, but the fact remained that Dickon was always ready to come into my thoughts, and with the memory would come that frustrated longing.

‘There is only one fly in the ointment,’ said Sabrina; ‘they can’t get children.’

‘Poor Isabel, she does so long for a healthy child,’ added my grandmother. ‘There have been two miscarriages already. It seems as though she is ill-fated. Dickon is most disappointed.’

‘It is the only thing he cannot win for himself,’ I commented.

My grandmother and Sabrina never recognized irony when it was directed against Dickon. ‘Alas, that is so, my dear,’ said Sabrina sadly.

So there I was at the time of the royal wedding. The little Austrian girl who was about my age was coming to France to marry the Dauphin, who himself was not much older. The Comte would be at Court and I supposed we should all go to some of the entertainments. There would be balls and ballets and we should be able to catch a glimpse of the notorious woman, Madame du Barry, who was causing such a scandal at Court. She was vulgar and breathtakingly beautiful, I believed, and the King doted on her. Many had tried to remove her from her position, but the King remained enslaved.

There was always some intrigue in progress; life was rich, colourful and uncertain—the more so because on occasions we heard of the rumblings of discontent throughout the country. News would reach us of riots in a small town, a farmer’s haystacks being burned down, a baker’s shop raided … Small outbreaks in remote places. We took little notice of them. Certainly not during those golden days before the wedding.

The château had become my home by now but I never really got used to it. It could never be home to me as Clavering and Eversleigh had been. There I had been in the houses of my ancestors—but in a way the castle was that too; yet there was something alien about it. It seemed full of echoes from the past and I could never quite forget those dungeons which the Comte had shown me soon after my arrival.

My mother had settled in with ease and had taken on the role of Madame la Comtesse without any apparent effort. I supposed that was because she was happy. I marvelled that she, who had lived rather quietly, could suddenly become a figure in society, although throughout it all she preserved a certain air of innocence which was very attractive. There was mystery about her. She had a virginal air and yet it was well known that she had borne the Comte’s child—myself—all those years before when she had been the wife of another man, and the Comte had had his own wife and family. As for the Comte, he had become a doting and faithful husband, which I was sure was something society had never expected of him. It was a miracle. The miracle of true love. That, I would say to myself, is how Dickon and I would have been had we been allowed to marry.

I was educated with Sophie according to French custom, which meant that there was an emphasis on what was considered gracious living rather than academic achievement. Literature was important, as was an appreciation of art in any form, and fluency of language and the ability to converse with wit and charm; we must be skilled in courtly arts such as dancing, singing and playing a musical instrument; and we had special teachers for these subjects. I found them very interesting—far more so than the tuition I had received from my English governesses. Lisette shared our lessons.

Lisette was very bright and learned with a feverish application as though she were determined to excel, which she did. Sophie lagged behind. I often tried to point out to her that it was not so much that she was slower to comprehend as that she believed herself to be, and so willed it.

She would always shake her head and Lisette said that she would never grow out of it until she married and found a husband and children who adored her. ‘And that,’ added Lisette, with one of her looks of wisdom, ‘will never come about because she will not believe it even if it were actually the case.’

Lisette and I were high-spirited. If something was forbidden we were always seized with the urge to have it. We broke the rules set down by our teachers and once, when we were in Paris, we slipped out after dark and walked through the streets, which was a very daring thing to do. We were accosted by two gallants and were really frightened when they took our arms and would not let us go. Lisette screamed and attracted the attention of some people who were passing. Fortunately they stopped and Lisette cried out that we were being held against our will. The gallants released us and we ran with all the speed we could muster, and so reached the hôtel in safety. We did not try that again, but it had been a great adventure and, as Lisette said, it was experience.

Sophie was quite different, timid and subdued; and we always had great difficulty in persuading her to do anything which was forbidden.

So Lisette and I became the friends, whereas Sophie always remained something of an outsider.

‘It’s as though we are the sisters,’ said Lisette, smiling fondly at me.

There was one person of whom Lisette was afraid and that was Tante Berthe. But then the entire household was in awe of that formidable lady.

Sophie’s continual fear was that a husband would be found for her; she dreaded that and had already made up her mind that whoever was chosen for her would dislike her for being expected to marry her.

Lisette said: ‘There is one consolation in being the niece of the housekeeper. One will very likely have the privilege of choosing one’s own husband.’

‘I should not be surprised if Tante Berthe chose one for you,’ I commented.

‘My dear Lottie,’ she retorted, ‘no one, not even Tante Berthe, would make me marry if I did not want to.’

‘Nor I,’ I added.

Sophie listened to us round-eyed and disbelieving.

‘What would you do?’ she demanded.

‘Run away,’ I boasted.

Lisette lifted her shoulders which meant: Where to?

But I had an idea that if I were desperately determined my mother would not want me to be forced and she would persuade the Comte not to do so … so I felt safe enough.

This was the state of affairs when one day—it must have been about six weeks before the wedding—my mother told me that she and the Comte were going to visit some friends north of Angoulême and they were taking Sophie with them.

This threw Sophie into a state of trepidation for it could mean only one thing. It must be something to do with betrothal because the Comte was not very fond of Sophie’s company, and I was sure that if it had been a matter of pleasure only they would have taken me with them.

When we heard that they were visiting the Château de Tourville, the home of the Tourville family, and that there was an unmarried son of the family who was some twenty years old, it seemed as though Sophie’s fears were justified.

I said goodbye to my parents and a despairing Sophie and then rushed back to Lisette, and the two of us went to the top of one of the towers to watch the cavalcade until it was out of sight.

‘Poor Sophie,’ said Lisette. ‘Charles de Tourville is a bit of a rake.’

‘How do you know?’

‘One of the advantages of being the housekeeper’s niece is that one has an ear—a foot rather—in both camps. Servants know a great deal about the families they serve and there is communication between them. Mind you, they are a bit suspicious of me in the servants’ quarters. An educated young lady who is on terms of familiarity with the daughters of the house! Mind you, that doesn’t go for much. Sophie is so mild and you, after all, dear Lottie, are a bastard sprig, and a belated rush into respectability by your parents doesn’t alter that.’

Lisette always amused me with her banter. Sometimes she seemed to despise the nobility but she studied so hard at lessons because she was so anxious to be regarded as a member of it. If I had my dreams about Dickon’s one day returning to me with explanations and reconciliations, she had her dreams of marrying a duke and going to Court and perhaps catching the King’s eye and becoming as great an influence there as Madame du Barry.

We often lay on the grass overlooking the moat weaving rosy dreams of the future. Sophie used to be quite baffled by the outrageous situations we conjured up; they were so fantastic and alike in one respect. Lisette and I were always the glorious heroines in the centre of our romantic adventures.

During the time Sophie was away—it was fourteen days and much of that was spent in travelling, we did spare a thought for her and wondered whether she would come back betrothed to Charles de Tourville. We made plans to comfort her and to keep her mind from the horror marriage would mean to her.

Our amazement was great when she did come. She was a different Sophie. She had become almost pretty. Even her lank hair had a special sheen to it; and the expression on her face was almost rapt.

Lisette and I exchanged glances, determined to find out what had happened to change her.

We might have guessed. Sophie was in love.

She even talked about it.

‘From the moment I saw Charles … I knew … and so did he. I couldn’t believe it. How could he feel like that …’

‘Like what?’ demanded Lisette.

‘In … love,’ murmured Sophie. ‘With me …’

I was delighted for her and so was Lisette. We were very fond of her and were always trying to help her when we were not endeavouring to make her join in some mischief. She talked of nothing else but Charles de Tourville … how handsome he was, how charming, how brilliant. They had ridden together—not alone, of course—but in a party; but Charles had always contrived to be beside Sophie. Her father and Charles’s father had become great friends; and my mother and Charles’s mother had found so much to talk about.

The visit had been a great success and nothing would ever be the same again.

Sophie had found her true self. She had been brought face to face with the fact that her lack of attraction had been largely due to herself. She was still reserved—one did not change one’s entire character overnight—but Charles had done a great deal for her and before I met him I liked him for doing that.

Lisette said to me when we were alone: ‘Do you think he really fell in love with her or is it because he wants the marriage? An alliance with Aubigné would be very desirable for a family like the Tourvilles.’

I looked rather apprehensively at the knowledgeable Lisette with her ears in two camps and who was in possession of all the gossip from servants, who had got it from servants in other households. The thought had occurred to me but I would not allow myself to believe it. I wanted so much for Sophie to cast off her shyness and self-deprecation. I wanted her to be happy.

I asked my mother about it. She said: ‘It worked so well. It was just as we hoped. Charles is very charming and of course the Tourvilles were very anxious for the match. Your father is delighted. We were all rather surprised that Sophie was such a success. Charles seemed to work some magic on her.’

‘The magic of love,’ I said dramatically.

‘Yes,’ agreed my mother, looking back I was sure to those long-ago days when my father had come into her life and shown her that she was not the sort of person she had hitherto believed herself to be. Just as Charles de Tourville had for Sophie.

So Sophie was to be married. The wedding would not take place in May as the whole Court and my parents’ circle of friends would be taken up with that other wedding; but preparations would go on for some time, for besides the making of the trousseau there were marriage settlements, which needed a great deal of negotiations where such families as the Aubignés and Tourvilles were concerned.

Sophie was the most important member of the household now. She was given her own maid—Jeanne Fougère, a girl a few years older than herself who had been one of the serving girls and was delighted to become a lady’s maid. She took her duties seriously and because Sophie was so pleased to have her and she so happy to be there, an immediate bond sprang up between them.

It was pleasant to watch Sophie’s progress but Lisette was growing restless. She had been educated as we were and yet was never really allowed to cross the social barrier; she did not sit at table with us but ate her meals with Tante Berthe and Jacques, the major-domo, in a special small dining-room where, Lisette told me, formality was at its greatest. But being Lisette she found some amusement in the procedure and as both Tante Berthe and Jacques were prodigiously interested in food, what was served in their dining-room could be compared very favourably with that eaten in the great hall or the family salle à manger. Lisette was grateful to have the education of a daughter of a nobleman but at times I fancied I caught a glimmer of resentment in her eyes.

It was typical of her that, with Sophie so much in demand and being constantly whisked away from us, she should think of our doing something which would amuse us and show Sophie, when we had the opportunity of telling her, that we too could live excitingly.

One of the servant girls had told her about Madame Rougemont, the great clairvoyant, who could see into the future and could give the most glowing accounts of what was to come.

The serving-girl had herself been to Madame Rougemont. It had been the most exciting adventure. She had sat in a room and Madame Rougemont had read her palm and looked into the crystal ball.

‘I see a tall dark gentleman,’ she had told the girl. ‘You are going to meet him soon and he will fall in love with you.’

‘And,’ said Lisette, ‘no sooner did she step outside Madame Rougemont’s salon than there he was. She said it was wonderful and she is going to meet him again. But wasn’t that strange? She had said a tall dark gentleman … and there he was.’

The more Lisette thought about it, the more determined did she become that we ourselves must pay a visit to Madame Rougemont. Our previous foray into the streets had not been very successful. In fact we had had a real scare; I reminded Lisette of this and she said: ‘Well, you know why. We did not have the right clothes. We must get some.’

I suppose we could have borrowed some from the servants with whom Lisette was on such good terms, but she had heard that second-hand clothes were sold in the Place de Grève on Mondays and decided that it would add spice to the adventure if we purchased them ourselves.

How we laughed! It was necessary to slip out of the house in the morning, which was not easy for we had to elude our governess and tutors. We chose a time when we had no lessons and went into the streets in our morning gowns which were the plainest we had.

What fun it was to walk through Paris! I would never lose the exhilaration I felt in those streets. Walking was different from riding; one saw more; one became more part of the scene.

There were people everywhere and no one took much notice of us except the occasional man who threw us a speculative glance.

Lisette, who had more freedom than I, was more familiar with the streets. She was allowed occasionally to go on some errand for Tante Berthe in the company of one of the servants. She revelled in her knowledge. She showed me the shops as we passed.

‘There,’ she said, ‘is the grocer-druggist. You can buy lots of things there … brandy, paint, sugar, lemonade, and confiture of all kinds with arsenic and aqua fortis. So if you want to poison someone you will know where to come.’

‘Do people really …’

‘Of course they do. Have you never heard of Marchioness de Brinvilliers who, a hundred years ago, poisoned people who were in her way? She used to try her poisons out on the hospital patients and went visiting the sick and taking little goodies for them. Then she would come and see what effect they had had and whether it was safe to use them.’

‘How diabolical.’

‘People are like that sometimes,’ said Lisette blithely.

She pointed out the narrow winding streets through which we must not venture and even she had no desire to do so. She also identified an old marcheuse, a fearful little creature who scuttled past; her face was scarred with the ravages of some terrible disease.

‘Once,’ said Lisette, ‘she was a beautiful woman. But a life of sin made her diseased and now she is fit only to run errands for the lowest type of prostitute. A lesson to us all,’ she added piously. ‘It just shows what terrible things can happen to women.’

She was sad for a moment. Lisette’s moods did change rather rapidly; and then she brightened.

‘Here is the Place de Grève. No executions here today because it is a Monday … but second-hand clothes instead.’

I couldn’t help crying out with pleasure, for ahead of us was a noisy crowd of people—mostly women—parading before the onlookers in all sorts of garments. Some wore hats with feathers; others had pulled gowns over their own. They screamed and laughed and chattered; and the vendors at the stalls looked on crying out: ‘What a miracle!’ ‘The fit is perfect!’ ‘It becomes you, Madame. You are a lady in that garment.’

‘Come on,’ said Lisette, and we were part of the crowd.

Lisette found a brown gaberdine dress—sombre in hue but which somehow set off her beautiful blonde hair. I found a dark purple which was plain, the sort which might have been worn by a shopkeeper’s wife.

Gleefully we made our purchases and no one took any special notice of us as we scuttled away through the streets back to the hôtel. We went up to my room and there tried on the dresses and rolled about in mirth as we assured ourselves that in them no one would have the slightest notion where we came from.

We could scarcely wait to set out on the real adventure. Lisette knew exactly where to go. The serving-girl who had told her about the fortune-teller had walked past the place with her only the day before.

On the way we passed the Bastille and I shivered as I always did and wondered how many people were incarcerated there who were innocent of any crime.

I tried to interest Lisette in the subject. She would surely know something about lettres de cachet, but she was not interested in anything but the fortune which lay in store for her.

We found the house. It was in a narrow street of tall houses. We mounted the steps and found the heavy door was open. We stepped into a hall. There a concierge sat in a boxlike room with glass panes through which he could see who came in.

‘Up the stairs,’ he said.

We went up. It was different from what I had expected. There was a carpet on the stairs of a rich red and a certain air of brash luxury about the place.

A girl in a low-cut blue dress came out of a room at the top of the first flight of stairs. She studied us very closely and smiled.

‘I know,’ she said. ‘You have come to have your fortunes told.’

‘Yes,’ said Lisette.

‘Come this way.’

She took us into a little room and told us to sit down, which we did. Lisette giggled. I think now she was a little nervous. I certainly was and I had a feeling that we were being watched and began to wonder whether we had been unwise to come. I remembered that stroll we had taken and the young men who had come along and seized us and I started to wonder what would have happened if that crowd of people had not come along precisely at the right moment.

I looked at Lisette. Her eyes were brilliant, as they always were when she was excited.

‘Why are we waiting here?’ I whispered.

‘Perhaps Madame Rougemont has another client.’

The girl who had shown us in appeared.

‘Madame Rougemont will see you now,’ she said.

We rose and the girl signed to us to follow her. We did so and were ushered into a room with a large window looking down on the street.

Madame Rougemont’s face was painted and patched to such an extent that it was difficult to know how much of what we saw was really her. She wore a red velvet gown the colour of her curtains, her hair was most elaborately dressed and I guessed that a great deal of it was not hers either. Her plump hands were loaded with rings; she looked rich and vulgar and she frightened me. If I had been alone I should have been tempted to turn and run out of the house.

‘Ah my dears,’ she said, smiling falsely at us, ‘so you want to look into the future?’

Lisette said: ‘Yes, that is so.’

‘Why else should you come to Madame Rougemont, eh? Well, sit down.’

She peered at us. ‘Two very pretty young ladies. There is nothing I like better than finding a happy future for pretty ladies. Have you the money for the sitting?’

Lisette reached into her pocket and found it.

Madame Rougemont took it and put it into a little drawer. She looked intently at Lisette, and then at me.

‘Come and sit at this table, dears. I’ll tell you together, shall I? First one … then the other … unless of course there are secrets. Those I shall tell you when we are alone … if that is necessary. But first let me see if they are there. You are very young, aren’t you? Tell me your ages, my dears. It helps a little.’

Lisette said she was seventeen. I exaggerated a little and said I was sixteen.

‘And you live here … in Paris?’

‘Some of the time,’ I told her.

‘Not always. You are with one of the rich families, eh?’

‘Yes,’ I said quickly. ‘Yes.’

‘I thought so. Give me your hands.’

She took mine first. ‘A pretty little hand,’ she said. ‘So white and clean. How do you manage to keep them so white … a lady’s hands. That’s what they are.’

Her fingers gripped my hand tightly and the look of speculation in her eyes alarmed me. I knew we shouldn’t have come. I glanced at Lisette. She was still enjoying the adventure.

Now Madame Rougemont had taken one of her hands so that she held us both.

‘Another pretty little hand,’ she said. ‘Oh, I see great things here. Rich husbands for you both …. Long journeys and excitement … plenty of it. You are going to be so happy.’

I heard myself say: ‘Is it the same for both of us then?’

‘There are variations, of course, but you are both lucky young ladies. You are going to meet your fate …one of you will meet it today.’

‘Which one?’ asked Lisette.

Madame Rougemont put her hand to her head and closed her eyes.

‘I think,’ she said, ‘that we should look into the crystal ball. First the fair lady.’

She drew the crystal towards her and closed her eyes. Then she began to speak in a dreamy voice. ‘I see him. He is tall, dark and handsome. He is close … very close … He will love you dearly. You will ride in carriages. Beware of hesitation. If you do not act promptly you will lose your good fortune, my dear.’ She turned to me. ‘And now you, little lady. Ah, here it is again. The finger of fate. Your future will be decided soon … and it is in your hands. When fate comes to you, you must be ready to grasp it. Again, hesitation could lose all. It may seem sudden but if you do not take advantage of what the gods offer you now you could regret it all your life. I see that your fate is entwined with that of the other lady and that is what makes it difficult for me to speak more openly. Don’t despair. If the turn of one of you is not today, it will be tomorrow.’

I stood up, for every moment I was growing more and more uneasy. There was an oppressiveness about the place which seemed to shut me in.

‘We should be going,’ I said. ‘Thank you very much, Madame Rougemont.’

Lisette stood beside me. I think she was beginning to catch my uneasiness.

Madame Rougemont said: ‘You would like a little refreshment. I never send my clients away without a little hospitality. I have a little salon just across the passage. Come on.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘We must go.’

But she held us firmly by our arms.

‘We serve wine here,’ she said. ‘A little wine bar. Ladies and gentlemen like to come in when they are thirsty.’

The girl who had shown us in appeared again; she opened a door and we were more or less pushed into a room in which were little tables and red plush chairs.

A man was sitting in one of them. He looked as though he were tall and he was certainly dark and handsome.

‘Ah, Monsieur St Georges,’ said Madame Rougemont. ‘How nice to see you! I was just going to drink a glass of wine with these two young ladies. Please join us.’

She made a sign and a waiter appeared. She nodded to him and he went away.

Monsieur St Georges bowed and, taking Lisette’s hand and then mine, kissed them and said he was delighted to make our acquaintance.

We all sat down at the table. A good deal of my fear had disappeared. As for Lisette, she was undoubtedly enjoying the adventure.

‘These young ladies are attached to one of the big houses,’ said Madame Rougemont. ‘That’s so, is it not, my dears?’

‘Tell me,’ said the young man. ‘Which one?’

Lisette and I exchanged quick glances. I felt myself flushing. There would be great trouble if it were known that we had come to the fortune-teller. Tante Berthe was always warning Lisette of the dangers of life in Paris. It was the surest way to make Lisette want to sample it.

The silence went on for several seconds. Both of us were trying to think of the name of a rich family for whom we might be working.

Lisette was quicker than I. She said: ‘It is the Hôtel d’Argenson.’

‘That would be in …’ said Monsieur St Georges.

Again that pause and Lisette said: ‘In Courcelles …’

‘In Courcelles! Oh, you have come a long way.’

‘We are fond of walking,’ I said.

‘I see.’

He drank off his glass of wine and I saw him make some sort of sign to Madame Rougemont. She said: ‘I have an appointment with another client.’ She leaned towards Lisette and whispered something which Lisette told me afterwards was: ‘See, here is your dark handsome man.’

He watched her disappear. Then he said sharply: ‘Who are you and what are you doing in a place like this?’

‘What do you mean?’ I cried. ‘A place like this …’

‘Do you mean you don’t know what sort of place it is? Mon Dieu, here we have the innocents in Paris. Tell me where your home is. The truth now. You are not serving-girls. Where did you get those clothes?’

‘At the Place de Grève,’ I answered.

I saw a smile touch his lips. ‘And you live …?’

‘In the Rue Saint-Germain.’

‘And at which house?’

‘Is that any concern of yours?’ asked Lisette.

‘Yes, young lady, it is, because I am going to take you back there.’

I felt great relief and gratitude towards him, and I said before Lisette could answer: ‘It is the Hôtel d’Aubigné.’

For a moment he was silent; then he seemed as though he were suppressing laughter.

‘You are a pair of very adventurous young women,’ he said. ‘Come on. You are going home.’

He led us to the door and as we reached it Madame Rougemont appeared. She was smiling blandly.

‘Well, Monsieur St Georges. You are pleased …?’

He said in a low voice: ‘I am taking these ladies home. They belong to one of the great families in France. Good God, woman, have you no sense?’

He was clearly rather angry with her but when he turned to us he was all smiles.

‘Now,’ he said, ‘I am going to take you out to the street. I am going to put you into a.pot de chambre which will take you back to the hotel. Go straight in at once and never be so foolish again.’

‘Why is it so foolish to have one’s fortune told?’ asked Lisette defiantly.

‘Because frauds tell fortunes. That is not all. Fortune-telling is not the main business of that woman. Something you are too young to understand, but never do it again. If you do, you deserve all you get. Now go back and don’t be such silly little girls again.’

We came out into the street; he hailed the carriage, paid the driver and told him where to take us. He stood back and bowed as we drove away.

We were subdued until we reached the hôtel. Then we went up to my room and took off our second-hand dresses. Mine had suddenly become repulsive to me and I wondered who had worn it before.

‘What a strange adventure!’ I said. ‘What was it all about?’

Lisette looked wise. She had guessed, of course.

Madame Rougemont was what was known as a procuress. The fortune-telling was a blind. She had her dark and handsome gentleman waiting as they plied the girls with wine to make them acquiescent.

‘You’re making it up.’

‘No. I see it all clearly now. That girl met her young man because he was waiting for her.’

‘Do you mean that Monsieur St Georges was waiting for us?’

‘He was a noble gentleman. Therefore there were two for him to choose from.’

‘But he didn’t.’

‘Not when he realized who we were. Imagine the Comte’s rage if anything had happened to you.’

I stared at her in horror.

Lisette was thoughtful and then she said: ‘I wonder which one of us he would have chosen.’

A grand ball to celebrate Sophie’s betrothal was to be held in the hôtel and preparations went on for days. Sophie was in a twitter of excitement and it was wonderful to see her so happy. She was thrilled about the new ball dress which was being made for her. I was to have one too.

‘You realize that this is a very special occasion,’ she said. ‘You will meet Charles and see for yourself how wonderful he is.’

‘I very much look forward to meeting him,’ I said. ‘I think he must be a bit of a miracle-worker.’

‘He is different from everyone else,’ she cried ecstatically.

She and I paid several visits to the Paris dressmaker who was said to be the most fashionable in town. Sophie’s dress was of pale blue with yards of shimmering chiffon in the skirt and a low cut bodice which fitted her firmly and managed to make her look almost slender. Her dumpiness was less noticeable nowadays because of her radiant face. She was really becoming rather pretty. I was to have a similar dress in pink, which the dressmaker said would be a foil to my dark hair.

‘It will be your turn next,’ she said, as she fitted the gown on me.

In spite of the excitement I did notice that Lisette was rather quiet, and I fancied she was getting more resentful than she used to be about not being quite one of us. I sympathized with her, for it did seem to be a little unkind to let her take lessons with us, ride with us, be our constant companion and then on social occasions make it clear that she did not belong.

She went off by herself a good deal and often I looked for her and could not find her. If I had not been so absorbed by the coming ball, I might have thought something odd was happening. She seemed secretive and sometimes appeared to be enjoying a private joke. Usually she would have shared amusing incidents. But, I told myself, perhaps I was imagining again, as I often did.

I was with my mother more during those days for she had thrown herself wholeheartedly into the preparations.

‘Your father is very pleased about this match,’ she said. ‘He will be glad to see Sophie settled.’

‘I suppose the Tourvilles are a very distinguished family?’

‘They are not quite Aubigné,’ replied my mother with a certain pride and I suddenly remembered the years she had spent as the wife of Jean-Louis, so far removed, it seemed to me, from the life she led as Madame la Comtesse.

‘I think they are delighted to marry into the family,’ she went on. ‘And as I said, your father is very pleased.’

‘And Sophie is happy.’

‘That’s the best of all and I am so happy about it. She is not an easy girl …and so different from you, Lottie.’

‘I shall not be so easily disposed of.’

She laughed at me. ‘Don’t you think Sophie is very happy to be as you say disposed of?’

‘Sophie is in love.’

‘So will you be one day.’

She spoke earnestly because she knew I was thinking of Dickon and she hated anything to disturb the perfect life she had found with her Count.

‘I will never be again.’

She tried to laugh as though it were a joke; then she put her arms about me and held me against her.

‘My dear, dear child, it is a long time ago. It would have been so wrong to have allowed that to go on. Why, even now you are very young …’

‘The ball might have been for us both … Sophie and me … to celebrate our betrothals.’

‘You are living in a false dream. You would never have been happy with Dickon. It was so ridiculous. He was years older than you and because you were only a child it was easy for him to deceive you. He wanted Eversleigh and as soon as he got it he no longer thought of you.’

‘I think I should have been the best judge of that.’

‘A child of—what was it? twelve. Not quite that. It was preposterous. You should have seen his face when I offered him Eversleigh. He was quite cynical, Lottie.’

‘I knew he wanted Eversleigh.’

‘He wanted only Eversleigh.’

‘It is not true. He wanted me too.’

‘He would have taken you as part of the bargain. Oh, Lottie, it hurts you, but it is better to face facts. It is heartbreaking to discover that someone who professes to love you is lying. But you were only a child … and it is all finished now. You are not really grieving. I have seen you joyously happy. You are just trying to keep it all alive … when you remember to. But it is dead, Lottie; and you know it.’

‘No,’ I contradicted her. ‘What I felt for Dickon will never die.’

But she did not really believe me. Her own experiences had taught her to expect a ‘happy-ever-after’ ending.

At last the great day came. Lisette arrived in my room to see me when I was dressed.

‘You look beautiful, Lottie,’ she told me. ‘You will overshadow the prospective bride.’

‘Oh no. Sophie looks really pretty. Love has worked miracles.’

She seemed rather thoughtful but I confess I was so eager to meet Charles de Tourville that I was not thinking much about Lisette.

At the top of the staircase was the Comte, looking magnificent in his brocade coat, discreetly flashing a few diamonds, and his curled white wig setting off his fine features and his lively dark eyes; my mother, standing beside him in pale lavender looked beautiful and very much the Comtesse. I marvelled at her yet again, remembering the quiet lady of Clavering. And beside her was Sophie, radiant in turquoise blue and happiness.

I was in the charge of Madame de Grenoir, a distant cousin of the Comte’s, who appeared at times like this when she was needed and was only too happy to act as chaperone. I was to sit quietly with her as became my years, and when a gentleman asked me to dance, if he were suitable, I might accept. If he were not, Madame de Grenoir—who was adept at handling such situations, having had much experience of them—would make it clear that I was not available.

Once more I was handicapped by my youth. But at least I had been presented to the King and he had spoken to me, although that was a long time ago and the Comte had made sure that I did not come in the presence of the King again.

Many members of the nobility would be present tonight because they were in Paris for the royal wedding. It was the best possible time to give a ball.

I sat there watching the people arrive. One or two men glanced at me and hesitated and presumably they were unsuitable, for Madame de Grenoir gave them such cold looks that they moved on. I felt again that frustration with my youth and promised myself that I would soon escape from it. In a year I should be considered quite grown up.

Madame de Grenoir was telling me about other balls she had attended and other girls whom she had chaperoned.

I said: ‘You really must be a very experienced practitioner. What an occupation! Chaperone for girls! Not exactly exciting.’

Then it happened and found me quite unprepared.

Sophie was coming towards me and there was a man with her. He was tall and dark and I recognized him at once. I stood up uncertainly. Madame de Grenoir was beside me, laying a hand on my arm.

‘Lottie,’ said Sophie, ‘I want you to meet Charles de Tourville. This is Lottie, Charles, of whom I have told you so much.’

I felt the colour rush into my face, for the man who was taking my hand was none other than Monsieur St Georges, who had rescued Lisette and me from Madame Rougemont.

His lips were on my fingers and the eyes he raised to me held a hint of mischief.

‘I have so longed to meet you,’ he said. ‘It is true Sophie has told me so much about you.’

Sophie was laughing. ‘You look alarmed, Lottie. I haven’t told all. I have only told Charles the nice things.’

‘And,’ he added, ‘the more I heard the more eager I was to meet you.’

Sophie was watching me intently, urging me to admire. I sought for words, but for once could not find anything to say.

‘My father is going to open the ball with me in a moment,’ said Sophie. ‘I think the guests have all arrived now. If they are late they cannot expect to be received, can they?’

I stammered: ‘It … it is a great pleasure to meet you.’

‘There will be many meetings,’ he answered, ‘when I am a member of the family.’

‘Charles,’ said Sophie, ‘you will have to dance with the Comtesse.’

‘It will be a pleasure,’ he answered. ‘And later I hope that Mademoiselle Lottie will honour me.’

‘Of course she will, won’t you, Lottie?’

‘Thank you,’ I said.

Sophie looked over her shoulder at me as she laid her hand on his arm in a proprietorial manner and they walked away.

I was too stunned to do anything but stare after them.

‘It is so good when a marriage is a love-match,’ Madame de Grenoir was saying. ‘Those two … so happy. I have seen some who are far from happy. This is quite different … a very, very happy arrangement.’

When the dance began I was immediately taken on to the floor. I had no lack of invitations to dance and providing the men were suitable I was allowed to accept them. Madame de Grenoir kept her alert eyes on me as I danced and I was aware of her watching all the time. My partners were flirtatious, expressing ardent admiration, but I scarcely listened to them. I could not wait until the moment when Charles de Tourville came for me.

He was smiling in a manner which I can only call mischievous.

‘I have been waiting for this moment,’ he said, as soon as we were out of earshot of Madame de Grenoir.

‘Oh?’ I said. ‘Why?’

‘You are not going to pretend that we have not met before, are you?’

‘No,’ I replied.

‘You were a very naughty little girl and I caught you, didn’t I? Do you often have such adventures?’

‘That was the only one of that kind.’

‘You learned your lesson, I hope.’

‘I suppose we were a little adventurous.’

‘Not a little. Very adventurous, I should say. However, as long as you learned that it is unwise for little girls to stray into the dubious haunts of the city, good can come of it. I must say I was delighted to meet you.’

‘It wasn’t a surprise for you?’

‘Of course not. I knew who you were as soon as I discovered where you lived. Don’t forget our families are to be united. We have to know about each other …not everything, of course. That would be asking too much. But we should know those little things which cannot be hidden. Like a beautiful daughter, for instance. There has to be some explanation. I know that there was a charming sequel to the Comte’s English romance and that sequel so enchanted him that he kept her with him and married her mother.’

‘I think I would rather not discuss my family’s affairs.’

‘Our family’s. I shall be a member soon.’

‘Tell me about that woman … that fortune-teller, Madame Rougemont.’

‘One of the most notorious brothel-keepers in the town. Forgive me. You are an innocent young girl. Do you know what a brothel is?’

‘Of course I do. I am not a child.’

‘Then you will not need me to explain. She has quite a fashionable apartment in another district but she does a little business in the quarters to which you went. I am surprised that a young lady in your position should have gone into such a house … in such a street.’

‘I told you, it was an adventure.’

‘Is life in the Hôtel d’Aubigné so dull then?’

‘I did not say it was dull, but we are kept under strict control.’

‘Not strict enough, obviously.’

‘Well, we slipped out.’

‘You were fortunate that I was there.’

‘I have often wondered about that. What were you doing there?’

‘What every man does there. Looking for pretty girls.’

‘You! You mean …’

‘I mean exactly what you are thinking.’

‘But you are going to marry Sophie!’

‘Well?’

‘Why then … should you be looking for someone else?’

‘That someone else would have nothing to do with my marriage.’

I was horrified and desperately sorry for Sophie. Here was another of those blasé young men to whom marriage was a matter of convenience. Dickon was back in my thoughts. Oh, how could they behave in such a way!

‘I see that you are getting ready to despise me.’

‘I think I already do. How much longer does this dance go on?’

‘A little while yet, I hope. You are a very attractive young lady, Mademoiselle Lottie.’

‘I would rather not hear you talk to me like that.’

‘I was only telling the truth. When you grow up you are going to be irresistible, I know.’

‘I do hope Sophie is not going to be unhappy but I very much fear for her.’

‘I promise you that she is going to be the happiest bride in Paris.’

‘With you visiting Madame Rougemont? What when she discovers?’

‘She will never discover. I shall see to that, and it will be precisely because there will be some others to charm me and satisfy my baser instincts that I can be a figure of chivalric love to my bride.’

‘I think you are the most cynical man I ever met!’

‘Call it realistic. I don’t know why I am telling you the truth. It is not very flattering to me, is it? Oddly enough I have to tell you. But then you found me out, didn’t you? We found each other out. No use trying to cover up our sins after such blatant exposure. Still, I like you to know the truth about me. I have grown very fond of you, Lottie.’

‘When?’

‘Well, it began when I looked through a peephole and saw one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen gazing into a crystal ball. A tall dark handsome man, said Madame Rougemont. Well, she was right, wasn’t she?’

‘Are you trying to flirt with me?’

‘You do invite it, you know.’

‘I think Sophie should be warned.’

‘Will you warn her? She won’t believe you. Besides, who are you to talk? What if I told of my first meeting with you in Madame Rougemont’s brothel? You would be in trouble then, wouldn’t you?’

‘And so would you. They would surely want to know how you happened to be there.’

‘So you see we are both caught in our particular web of intrigue. Dear Lottie, I do believe those wretched musicians are reaching their finale. I shall dance with you again this evening and then we will talk of more pleasant things. Alas … it is au revoir.’

He released me and bowed; then he gave me his arm and took me back to Madame de Grenoir.

I felt very disturbed and in a strange way excited. More than anyone I had ever met he reminded me of Dickon.

Madame de Grenoir chattered about the Tourvilles. ‘A noble family … not like the Aubignes, of course … but wealthy enough. They have a château somewhere near Angouleme and a hôtel in Paris like most noble families. It is an excellent match, and he is a charming young man, is he not?’

I found it difficult to sit there and listen to her and was glad to be dancing again. I was looking out for him all the time and once or twice I saw him; then he gave me a smile and flashed a message at me with his eyes which I was sure meant that he would be with me as soon as he could.

The time came and there I was dancing with him again.

‘This is the highlight of the evening for me,’ he said. ‘You don’t quite look so angry as you did. Have you thought better of it?’

‘I still think badly of you.’

‘And I still think you are enchanting. Do you know, I have come to the conclusion that sinners often are … more than saints, that is.’

‘I do hope Sophie is not going to be hurt. I am sure she doesn’t know you at all.’

‘I promise to keep her in blissful ignorance.’

‘I suppose you have had lots of adventures … with women?’

‘Right,’ he said.

‘I won’t call them love-affairs. They are not that … just sordid little adventures.’

‘I suppose you could be right again, but the pleasant thing is that while they are happening they don’t seem what you say they are.’

‘You have this modern French outlook.’

‘Oh, it is not modern. It has been like that for centuries. We make a success of living because we know how to set about it. Wisely, we don’t sigh for the unattainable. We take what is offered and learn to live with it without regrets. It is this realism, this acceptance of life as it is which puts us at the peak of civilization. It is why we are such wonderful lovers, so amusing, so charming. It is a matter of experience. Oddly enough the best mistress I ever had—to date—was the one my father chose for me when I was sixteen years old. It’s an old French custom, you know. The Boy is growing up. He will get into mischief so find a charming older woman who will initiate him. It is part of that sensible outlook on life which my countrymen have worked out to perfection.’

‘I really don’t want to listen to your boasting of your prowess,’ I said.

‘Well, let us leave something so obvious unsaid. Let’s talk of other things. Lottie, I am delighted that you are to be my little sister. I hope we shall get to know each other Very well indeed.’

‘I think it hardly likely.’

‘Oh, that’s not very kind.’

‘People who are not kind themselves should not expect kindness in others.’

‘Are you worried about Sophie?’

‘Yes … very.’

‘You have a sweet nature. Have you noticed that she has been less happy since she has known me?’

‘You must know very well what a difference it has made to her. That’s why …’

‘You don’t look deeply enough into life, dear Lottie. Sophie is happy. I made her happy. Isn’t that something to be proud of, to earn Sophie’s gratitude and that of her family? I assure you I intend it to stay like that. Sophie and I will live amicably together with the children we shall have and when we are old and grey people will point to us as the ideal couple.’

‘And in the meantime you will continue with your secret adventures?’

‘That is the key to all successful marriages - as every Frenchman knows.’

‘Does every Frenchwoman know it?’

‘If she is wise, I think she does.’

‘It is not my idea of happiness and I am glad that I am not a Frenchwoman.’

‘There is something very English about you, Lottie.’

‘Of course there is. I am English. I was brought up in England. There is much I like about France but this …profligacy … I … I loathe.’

‘You do not look like a puritan and that is what makes you so fascinating. You are warm …you are passionate. You can’t deceive a connoisseur such as I am. And yet you talk so primly.’

He held me close to him suddenly. I felt quite excited and at the same time I wanted to tear myself away and run back to Madame de Grenoir. I think I must have betrayed something, for he was smiling in a complacent way.

‘Lottie,’ he said, ‘we are going to meet … often. I am going to make you like me … yes, I think I can make you like me quite a lot.’

‘I never shall. I can only feel sorry for poor Sophie. Will this dance never end?’

‘Alas, it ends too soon. But never fear, you and I are going to be good friends.’

I wanted to get away.

‘You look a little put out, dear,’ said Madame de Grenoir. ‘Are you tired?’

‘Yes,’ I answered. ‘I should like to go.’

‘I don’t think you can do that until after midnight. Then perhaps …’

I danced again. I hardly noticed with whom. I was upset. He had reminded me so much of Dickon. Dickon had talked like that. He had never tried to make me like him because he was good; rather he had stressed his weaknesses. How this man had brought it all back!

I was glad when the ball was over. I went to my room and took off my gown. I was sitting in my petticoats brushing my hair when Sophie came in. She was radiant and did not look in the least tired.

She sat on my bed, her skirts billowing round her; she looked young, fresh and … vulnerable.

‘What a lovely ball! What did you think of Charles? Isn’t he wonderful? He says such marvellous things. I never thought there could be anyone quite like him.’

‘He is very good-looking,’ I said.

‘I think he rather liked you.’

‘Oh … I didn’t notice. What made you think that?’

‘It was the way he looked when he was dancing with you.’

‘Oh, did you see us? Weren’t you dancing?’

‘Most of the time, yes. But the second time I was sitting with your mother and a few others. I watched you all the time.’ I felt my face turning pink. ‘What were you talking about?’

‘Oh … I’ve forgotten. Nothing important.’

‘He was watching you all the time.’

‘People usually do when they are talking.’

‘Not so … intently. You know …’

‘No, I’m afraid I don’t. If it were important, I’d remember, wouldn’t I? Sophie, you ought to go to bed. Aren’t you tired?’

‘No. I feel as though I could go on dancing all night.’

‘It would have to be with Charles.’

‘Oh yes, with Charles.’

‘Good night, Sophie. Sleep well.’

I almost pushed her out and she went away to dream of her incomparable Charles whom she did not really know at all.

When she had gone I put on a wrap, for I felt a great urge to talk to Lisette. I wondered if I should tell her what had happened. She was very worldly. She would probably think nothing of it and say that what Sophie did not know could not grieve her.

I went along to her room and knocked gently. There was no answer.

I opened the door quietly and tiptoed in. I went to the edge of her bed and whispered: ‘Lisette. Are you asleep? Wake up. I want to talk.’

My eyes had grown accustomed to the gloom and I saw that Lisette’s bed was empty.

During the days which followed I saw a great deal of Charles de Tourville for whenever possible he contrived to be at my side. I tried to keep up an air of frigid disapproval, for disapprove of him I most certainly did; but I found myself looking for him and being disappointed if he were not there. I could not understand myself but I enjoyed talking to him. I tried to insult him at every turn. I endeavoured to convey to him how much I despised his way of life; but I could not hide from myself the fact that I enjoyed berating him—and he was shrewd enough to know it.

The fact was that I was bewildered. I was too young to realize what was happening. I was not afraid of life, as Sophie was; I was avid for it. I was ready to rush forward and savour it without wondering what the consequences would be. When I understood myself better I realized that my nature was by no means frigid. I wanted experience. Dickon had aroused me when I had been too young to realize that I was being physically stimulated and I had sublimated my feelings for him into a devotion and what I thought of as abiding love. Now Charles de Tourville came along and he reminded me so much of Dickon that I could not help being attracted to him.

I was young and ignorant, and although he was not old in years he was in experience. I think he understood exactly what was happening to me and found it very diverting. Since he was the sort of man who would visit an establishment like that of Madame Rougemont, he was no doubt in search of fresh sensation and a young girl such as I could provide just that. I gathered later that it was not such a coincidence as I had first thought that he should happen to be at Madame Rougemont’s when Lisette and I called there. Up to that time he had been a frequent visitor there and had looked in almost regularly to see if there was anyone who could amuse him for a while.

Naturally the families met often, which meant that he was constantly in the house. The wedding was to take place in three weeks’ time when all the excitement over that of the Dauphin and Marie Antoinette had died down.

In the meantime, as the families were both in Paris, and my father would no doubt take part in some of the ceremonies of the royal marriage, we saw a great deal of each other.

The Tourvilles gave a ball and once more I danced with Charles, and this time I was conscious of Sophie as she watched us. She insisted that Charles seemed to like me very much and when I protested that I thought he had a very poor opinion of me, she assured me that this was not so.

‘Oh,’ I said, ‘he is so much in love with you that he even likes your family.’

And that seemed to please her.

When I saw Lisette next I told her who Charles de Tourville was, and what a shock I had had at the ball.

‘Is it really so?’ she cried; and she started to laugh. But when I talked of him she did not seem very interested.

‘I only hope he doesn’t tell about us,’ I said.

‘How could he? He’d have to explain how he happened to be there.’

‘Lisette,’ I said, ‘when I came to tell you about it when the ball was over, you weren’t in your bed.’

She looked at me steadily and said: ‘Oh …you must have come when I was in one of the attics with the servants watching the guests depart. There is a good view up there.’

And I forgot about that until much later.

It was the day of the Dauphin’s wedding and my parents had gone to Versailles to attend the reception afterwards which was to be held in the Galerie des Glaces. I felt an uneasiness which I could not shake off. My thoughts were filled with Charles de Tourville and his coming marriage to Sophie. I fervently wished I could forget that man and not be so disturbed by his presence. It was not that I liked him … in fact I disliked all that he stood for; but on the other hand when he was not present, it seemed dull; and if he were to put in an unexpected appearance, I would feel an elation which try as I might I could neither suppress nor ignore.

There was to be a fireworks display in the evening and Charles with Armand were to conduct Sophie and me to the place so that we could have a good view. However during the afternoon the skies became overcast, the rain pelted down and the thunder and lightning were really alarming.

Sophie was terrified as she always had been of thunder, and Charles comforted her solicitously under my cynical eyes. He was clearly amused by my attitude.

‘No trip to Versailles,’ announced Armand. ‘There’ll be no fireworks tonight.’

‘The people will not be very pleased. A lot of them are trudging out to Versailles just to see them,’ said Charles.

‘They can’t blame the King for the storm,’ said Armand with a laugh. ‘Though I have no doubt some of them will.’

‘I dare say they will do the fireworks display on another occasion,’ added Charles. ‘Perhaps here in Paris, which would be sensible. It would save the trip to Versailles.’

‘What an end to the wedding-day!’ I murmured.

‘People are going to say it is a bad omen,’ added Charles.

‘Poor little bride,’ I couldn’t help saying, looking straight at Charles. ‘I hope she will be happy.’

‘They say she looks like a girl who can take care of herself,’ Charles replied, gazing into my eyes. ‘There are some like that. Perhaps that sort need more of a man than our little Dauphin has so far proved himself to be.’

‘Hush!’ said Armand in a mocking voice. ‘You speak treason.’

That evening the four of us played a card game while we listened to the rain spluttering on to the windows of the hôtel. The streets were quiet; it was very different from what we had expected it to be and rather an anticlimax to all the fuss there had been about the royal wedding.

The next day my parents returned to the hôtel. My mother was ecstatic about the reception at Versailles. Sophie and I made her tell us all about it. It had taken place in the chapel of the Palace and my parents had been very honoured to be present. This was because some long way back my father had a blood connection with the royal family.

‘Poor little Dauphin!’ said my mother. ‘He looked most disconsolate in spite of his gold-spangled net garments. Most unhappy and uncertain. She looked enchanting. She is a most attractive girl … so fair and dainty and she was beautiful in a white brocade gown with panniers, which made her look so graceful. We went through the Galerie des Glaces and the Grands Appartements to the Chapel, where the Swiss guards were assembled. Those dear children! They looked so young, they made me want to weep as they knelt before Monseigneur de la Roche-Aymon. I thought the Dauphin was going to drop the ring and the gold pieces he had to bestow on the bride.’

‘What about the fireworks display?’ I asked.

‘Oh, that is going to be later … in Paris. In a week or so, I imagine. There was so much disappointment about it. It has to take place or the people will feel they have been cheated. What do you think? The little Dauphine made a blot on the marriage contract as she signed her name. The King seemed quite amused.’

‘They will be saying that is an omen,’ said Armand. ‘What with the storm and the blot … they’ll really have something to work on. And wasn’t there an earthquake somewhere on the day Marie Antoinette was born?’

‘In Lisbon,’ said my father. ‘What has Lisbon to do with France? The people will like her. Oh yes, they will cheer her, for she is very pretty.’

‘And that counts for a great deal with the French,’ I put in, which made them all laugh.

Then my mother went on to describe the reception presided over by the King.

‘How old he is getting!’ She sighed. ‘It is a good thing that there is a Dauphin to follow on.’

‘A pity the boy is not older and more of a man,’ added the Comte.

‘Boys grow up,’ my mother reminded him.

‘Some take a long time doing it.’

‘Oh, it was so beautiful,’ went on my mother. ‘Although it was so dark outside it was as light as day in the Galerie. I don’t know how many candelabra there were and each had thirty candles. I counted them. The young people looked adorable sitting at the table which was covered with green velvet decorated with gold braid and beautifully fringed. You should have been there. As a matter of fact the people were so disappointed because of the cancellation of the fireworks display that they were determined to see something and broke into the Palace. They stormed up to the Galerie and mingled with the guests.’ She turned to my father. ‘Do you know, at one time, I felt rather frightened.’

‘No need to be on such an occasion,’ my father answered. ‘The people are pleased about the wedding. As a matter of fact, they are quite fond of the Dauphin and are longing for the King to die so that his grandson can take his place. They long to turn du Barry out on the streets, and as soon as the King dies that is what they will do.’

‘I heard the Dauphiness made a little gaffe which is amusing the whole court and beyond,’ said Armand. ‘When she saw the du Barry close to the King she was interested and asked what was the function of the beautiful lady. “To amuse the King”, was the answer. “Then”, said our little girl, so anxious to please her new Papa, “I shall be her rival”.’

Everyone laughed.

‘There was a shocked silence,’ the Comte said. ‘But Louis knows exactly how to deal with such situations in whatever else he fails, and all agree that he has the most gracious manners at Court. He patted the hand of the little Dauphiness and said he was delighted that she had become his little granddaughter, and poor Marie Antoinette was quite unaware of the social error she had committed.’

‘She won’t be for long,’ said Armand.

‘Well,’ added my mother, smiling at Sophie, ‘weddings are in the air. I wish the greatest happiness to the brides and their grooms.’

The date of the fireworks display had now been announced. It was to take place in the Place Louis XV and already workmen were busy setting lamps along the Champs Elysées; and in the Place Louis XV itself, a Corinthian temple was being put up near the King’s statue.

It was exciting to be in the streets during those May days. People who had goods to sell were making the most of the occasion. The well-known markets were busy and new ones had been set up wherever it was possible to do so. Salesmen and women were everywhere; medallions of the royal bride and groom were on sale with the flags of France and Austria; at every street corner there was a coffee woman, and lemonade-sellers who seemed to be doing a good trade with the thirsty people of Paris as well as those who had come into the city from the surrounding country.

It was impossible not to be caught up in the mood, and as the sun was shining after the great storm, it was good to be out.

Charles suggested that the four of us take a stroll down the Champs-Elysées to see how the decorations were progressing. Then we could wander into the Place Louis XV to take a look at the much talked-of Corinthian temple. The people would be amusing in any case.

So Charles, Armand, Sophie and I set out that morning.

We were all full of high spirits. Armand was quite amusing in his cynical way although he said he hated the people- ‘the unwashed’, he called them. He said the smell of them offended him. He was a very fastidious gentleman.

Charles warned him. ‘Don’t let them see your contempt, my dear fellow. Even on such a day as this, with all their loyalty to the crown they could easily take offence.’

Sophie was radiant, but my feelings were mixed. I was elated because I enjoyed Charles’s company so much and I kept telling myself that when they were married they would go to his estates in the south and I should not see them very often. That would be good, because I did not really like the man.

But that morning I was determined to enjoy myself.

We strolled along. A band was playing somewhere. From a building fluttered the flags of France and Austria, reminding the people that the country now had a reliable ally through this marriage, which would mean more to France than the happiness of two young people.

We strolled down the Champs-Elysées. It was going to look beautiful tonight with all those lamps aglow. In the Place Louis XV figures of dolphins were being set up and there was the grand medallion of the Dauphin and his bride. I stood beneath the bronze statue of the King on horseback surrounded by figures representing Prudence, Justice, Force and Peace.

Charles was beside me. ‘You look good there, sister Lottie,’ he said. ‘Tell me, are you prudent, just, forceful and peace-loving?’

‘Perhaps I have not lived long enough to discover.’

‘A very wise answer,’ he commented. ‘It is not always easy to be prudent and just, and if your are going to show force can you be peaceful?’

‘I suppose one must aim to have these qualities.’

‘As long as one tries perhaps that is good enough. It is not always possible to succeed though, is it? You are looking at me severely, Lottie. I don’t know why you do that so often, when you know you really like me very much.’

Sophie was coming towards us and I saw the watchful look in her eye. There was a hint of the distrust she had always had of herself before the coming of Charles.

‘We were talking about the statues,’ I said, ‘and Charles was saying how difficult it was to have the four qualities they represent.’

Charles took her by the arm. ‘Come, Sophie,’ he said, ‘let us look at them more closely and you tell me what you think of the workmanship. It was Pigalle, I think … but I’m not sure.’

He drew her away from me and was smiling into her face with such love that she was completely satisfied.

When we left the Place Louis XV we walked leisurely home and on the way we passed a stall on which several kinds of ornaments were displayed. Among them were some delicately fashioned flowers in silk. The colours were beautiful and Sophie gave a cry of admiration.

‘Why,’ she said, ‘that is just the colour of my lavender gown.’

‘I believe you really like it,’ said Charles. He picked it up and held it against her dress. ‘Enchanting,’ he went on, and kissed her lightly on the cheek. The saleswomen—there were two of them—applauded. Charles gave them one of his quick speculative glances which I noticed he bestowed on women, and these two were young and one quite pretty.

‘My lady must have it, do you not think so?’ he asked.

The two women laughed and said the lady had a very kind admirer.

Charles paid for the flower and handed it to Sophie. She looked so happy as she took it that I felt a little lump in my throat. I hoped fervently that she would always remain in blissful ignorance of the kind of man he was.

He had picked up another flower. It was a red peony—a most lovely shade of scarlet.

He held it against my hair.

‘What do you think?’ he asked the salesgirls.

‘A beautiful flower for a beautiful young lady,’ said the elder of them.

‘I agree,’ said Charles. ‘Don’t you, Sophie?’

Sophie stammered: ‘Y … yes … yes …’ But I saw the uneasy look in her eyes again and I wanted to say that I would not have the flower. But that would have made the whole matter too important, so I took the flower and thanked Charles.

Then we made our way home, but I felt a little of the joy had gone out of the morning for Sophie.

I wished I could warn her that she must not show jealousy, for Charles was the kind of man who would be irritated by it. Her only happiness lay in taking what came her way and being grateful for it, not to ask questions, not to probe, to shut her eyes to what was not meant for her to see. Then she would have a chance of being happy—and only then.

How could I tell her that? How could I tell her that I spoke from experience of what her fiancé was really like?

I did, however, try to show her that I did not treasure my flower as she did hers. I had an opportunity when Lisette came to my room as she was in the habit of doing—although lately I had seen less of her.

Sophie was with me, wearing the flower pinned to her dress and Lisette noticed it at once.

‘It’s lovely,’ cried Lisette. ‘I believe artificial silk flowers are becoming very fashionable.’

‘Charles bought it for me,’ Sophie explained. ‘From a stall in the street.’

‘You’re a lucky girl. He does dote on you, doesn’t he?’

Sophie smiled happily. ‘We were walking along and came to this stall. Nothing else on it caught my fancy but the flowers … they were very pretty.’

Lisette examined it. ‘It is so cleverly made,’ she said.

‘He bought one for Lottie.’

‘He had to … because I was there with Armand,’ I explained quickly.

‘Where is yours?’

‘I put it somewhere. I forget where …. Wait a minute. I think it’s here.’

I wanted to convey to Sophie that it meant nothing to me that Charles had given it.

I brought out the flower.

‘What a lovely rich colour!’ said Lisette.

‘I don’t think it will go with anything I wear.’

‘Nonsense. Red is one of your best colours. It makes you look darker and passionate.’

‘What rubbish.’

I took the flower from her and threw it into a drawer.

Sophie looked relieved. She could never disguise her emotion. Dear Sophie, she was so easy to deceive. Surely that arch-deceiver whom she was to marry would manage with the utmost ease.

All was well. Sophie had a good chance of achieving the happy marriage which was so necessary for her.

It was about two days after the incident of the flowers when Charles called at the hôtel. Sophie had gone with my mother to the dressmaker to discuss her trousseau, so when Charles called it aroused no comment that I should be the one to receive him.

He seized both my hands and kissed them.

‘Lottie!’ he cried. ‘How glad I am to find you alone!’

‘Was it accident or design?’

‘A bit of both,’ he admitted. ‘I believe Sophie is at the dressmaker with your Mama.’

‘You are well informed.’

‘It’s a good habit in life. Now I want to take you some- where. I have something to show you and you will really want to see it.’

‘Where would you take me?’

‘Only for a walk through the streets, I promise you.’

‘A walk? But why … ?’

‘You will see. Come, get your cloak. We haven’t a great deal of time.’

‘Were you going to show this to Sophie?’

‘Certainly not. There is no reason why she should be particularly interested.’

‘Then why … ?’

‘Curb your curiosity and hurry. I don’t want us to be too late. I promise to have you back in the house within an hour.’

He had succeeded in exciting me as he always did.

‘All right,’ I agreed. ‘But it is only to walk in the streets.’

‘That is all … on my honour.’

‘I am glad to know that you possess some.’

‘I am always known to be a man of my word.’

What harm was there? I was not allowed to go out alone, but I would be under the protection of one who was soon to be a member of the family. He would not dare behave in any but a reputable way. He was considerably in awe of my father and it had become clear to me that the Tourvilles wanted this marriage very much. So I put on my cloak and we went into the streets.

I was unprepared for what he had brought me to see and when I heard the sound of drums I was surprised and interested because a crowd of people had gathered. They were laughing; some cheered, some jeered.

‘It’s a procession of some sort,’ I said.

‘You wait,’ said Charles. ‘You’ll see an old friend of yours.’

He gripped me firmly by the arm, for the crowds were pressing round us and when they were too close he put an arm about me to protect me, I could not protest because I could see that the gesture was necessary. But I did feel an intense excitement as I was held close to him.

Then I saw. First came the drummer and with him a sergeant who carried a pike. Following these two was a groom leading a donkey and seated on this donkey, her face turned towards its tail, a crown of plaited straw on her head, was Madame Rougemont. There was a large placard hanging round her neck and painted on it in startling red letters was the word PROCURESS.

She sat there impassive—her face that mask I had seen before - white lead and carmine. Her head-dress had slipped a little but it had been elaborate. I did not understand half of what the crowd was yelling at her but it was mostly bawdy comment on her profession.

My eyes were fixed on Madame Rougemont, who sat the donkey with an air of unconcern, looking straight ahead of her with a certain dignity which I could not help admiring. I was expecting someone to pull her off the donkey at any moment, but no one did; and the crowd really was quite good-humoured. The drummer went on beating his drum and someone broke into a song which the rest of the crowd took up.

‘I can’t hear the words,’ I said to Charles.

‘That is just as well,’ he answered with a grin.

Then he took me by the arm. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘That is enough.’

‘You brought me here just to see that, didn’t you?’

‘I took you out because I enjoy your company and I know you do mine. That was an extra pleasure.’

‘Not much of a pleasure for Madame Rougemont.’

‘I think it happened to her once before.’

‘It did not make her give up her profession.’

‘Good Heavens, no! It would take a great deal more than that to make such a good business woman give up such a profitable profession.’

‘How shameful to be paraded through the streets like that … with everyone knowing …’

‘Save your sympathy. She’ll be back at her work tomorrow.’

‘Not now that it is known … won’t something be done about it?’

‘I think that is hardly likely.’

‘But isn’t what she is doing against the law?’

‘I’ll tell you something, Lottie. She has friends in high places. She runs a very fine establishment near the Cours de Reine and it is patronized by many powerful men. They would not want to see it disbanded, which I suppose it would have to be if she were convicted.’

‘I see. So if she were a poor procuress she would be a criminal?’

‘It could be so. But what will happen is that she will dismount from her donkey and go back and carry on with her business.’

‘It is so … unjust.’

‘But prudent. And she is a forceful woman and no doubt peaceloving. You did admire those statues, didn’t you and you wanted an example of all qualities in action. My dear Lottie, our King had his own procurer until lately. Why Le Bel, his valet de chambre, was avid in his search for those charms which would appeal to Louis’s jaded appetites. The secret room on the north wing of the palace was kept for them alone. It was called Le Trébuchet, the snare for birds; and there the young girls were kept that the King might visit them when it pleased him. That was before the Parc aux Cerfs was founded because it was considered better for Louis to have his girls outside the palace. The whole of France knew it. Such matters cannot be kept secret. So who is going to be unduly shocked by the activities of Madame Rougemont?’

‘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.