Raised in the grand chateau of Tourville, lovely young Claudine, with her widowed mother, had fled the solitude of the French countryside as revolution torched it, sparking flames that would forever alter the landscape, their destiny, and the face of history itself.Warmly ensconced and safe from harm in her mother's ancestral English home, Claudine discovers a new kind of danger; turning ripe and sensuous overnight, she is torn between the love of her new stepbrothers - David, steady, scholarly, the perfect husband ... if not the lover of her dreams; and Jonathon, so passionate, so willing to dare, far from the perfect husband, but as her first and foremost love, unsurpassed. Theirs is an amorous triangle that will burn bright through the years when England and all Europe struggle in a tyrant's grasp, till a moment on a rocky beach when one of the two men Claudine adores falls victim to a power beyond destiny.
On my seventeenth birthday my mother gave a dinner party to celebrate the occasion.
At that time I had been living at Eversleigh for three years. Little had I thought when I had left my grandfather’s chateau that I should never see him again. Of course I had known that there was great anxiety throughout France. Even a girl as young and ignorant of the world as I had been, could not be unaware of that, especially as my own grandmother had met a violent death at the hands of the mob. That had had a devastating effect on everyone around me.
Afterwards my mother, my brother Chariot and I had left our home at Tourville and had gone to live in my grandfather’s chateau of Aubigne in order to comfort him, and Lisette, my mother’s friend, and her son, Louis Charles, had come with us.
I had loved Aubigne and my grandfather had seemed a splendid gentleman, though a very sad one, unlike the man I had known before the death of my grandmother. Yes, no one could help being aware of a brooding menace; it had been everywhere-in the streets, in the country lanes, in the chateau itself.
Then my mother had brought us to England-myself, Chariot and Louis Charles-to visit her relatives, and there everything was different. I was fourteen at the time and adapted myself quickly. I felt it was my home. I knew my mother felt like that too; but that was understandable because she had lived there in her childhood. There was a certain peace -indefinable-for it was by no means a quiet household. No household could be with Dickon Frenshaw in it. Dickon hi a way reminded me of my grandfather.
He was one of those dominating men of whom everyone is in awe. Such men don’t have to ask for respect; it is freely given them, perhaps because they take it for granted that it must be there. He was tall, quite handsome, but what one was most aware of was that sense of power which emanated from him. I think we were all aware of it-some resented it, like my brother Chariot, and I fancied on some occasions that Dickon’s own son Jonathan resented him as well.
So through those June days we rode, we walked, we talked, and my mother spent a lot of time with Dickon, while I was delighted with the company of his children, David and Jonathan, who both showed an interest hi me and teased me because of my imperfect English; and Sabrina, Dickon’s mother, looked on benignly because Dickon liked to have my mother there, and Dickon’s slightest wish was law to Sabrina.
She was turned seventy then, but she did not look her age. She had a great purpose in living, and that was anticipating and granting the wishes of her son.
It was clear to us all even then that Dickon would have liked my mother to stay.
If ever two people were attracted by each other, those two were. They seemed very old to me and it was a source of wonder that two such mature people could behave like young lovers-and one’s own mother, at that, made it more surprising than ever.
I remember the time when my father had been alive. She had not been the same with him; and I think she did not mind very much when he had gone to fight with the American colonists. That was the last we saw of him for he had died in the fighting, and it was soon after that when we left Tourville and went to my grandfather at Aubigne.
Then came this holiday. My mother had refused to leave my grandfather and he had promised to come with us but he had been too ill right at the last moment when it was too late to cancel our arrangements and I had never seen the chateau since.
I remembered well that day when my mother received the message that he was very ill and prepared to return to France. There had been hurried consultations and at length she had decided to leave us children -as she called us-with Sabrina, and had travelled back with one of the grooms who had brought the message from Aubigne.
Dickon had been in London at the time and Sabrina had tried to persuade my mother not to go because she knew how upset Dickon would be by her departure when he returned to find her gone. But my mother was adamant.
When Dickon returned and discovered that she had left for France, he was frantic and lost no time in setting out after her. I did not fully understand why he should have been so disturbed until I heard Chariot talking with Louis Charles and Jonathan.“There’s trouble over there,” said Chariot, “big trouble. That is what Dickon is afraid of.”
”She should never have gone,” said Louis Charles.
“She was right to go,” retorted Chariot. “My grandfather would want to see her more than anyone when he is ill. But she should have taken me with her.”
I joined in then. “You would, of course, fight all the mobs in France.”
“What do you know about it?” asked Chariot witheringly.
“If I knew what you knew, that wouldn’t amount to much,” I replied.
