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
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
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.’
