Текст книги "Zipporah's Daughter"
Автор книги: Philippa Carr
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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
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.’
