‘And you think that if I married Charles de Tourville … ’
‘I know it because I have watched you closely. You hold back but you don’t want to. As for him, I have rarely seen a man more in love.’
And so it was when we went to Brammont for Armand’s wedding.
The Brammont château was a good deal smaller than that of Aubigné but built in the same style with tall slate roofs and pepperpot towers. It was delightful, more charming in fact than the larger castles. I was enchanted by the arabesque friezes, sculptured niches and pinnacled windows.
There was more than the usual Christmas activity as this was to be the occasion of the wedding as Well, which was to take place two days after Christmas Day. The château was filled with guests and family and I was surprised to find that the Tourvilles were there.
It was not long before Charles sought me out. He was obviously delighted because we should spend Christmas under the same roof.
We rode, we danced, we sang Christmas hymns. It was different from our Christmases in England, but I was accustomed to these celebrations now. There was no punchbowl nor wassailing which had been such a feature of our Christmases at Clavering; but we were all celebrating the same event.
I was enjoying everything very much and was happier than I had been for some months. Verbal sparring with Charles exhilarated me and when he kissed me and held me against him—which he did whenever possible—I had to admit I was excited.
The marriage was celebrated in the château chapel and afterwards there was a banquet. Charles had been seated next to me at this, for it seemed general knowledge that there was an understanding between us.
The Catholic ceremony of marriage had reminded me that I was a Protestant. My father had not suggested that I change my religion, although the matter had never been gone into. My mother had gone through some formality before her marriage. It now occurred to me that if I married in France it would very likely be that my husband was a Catholic, and although that might not be of paramount importance, the problem would certainly arise if there were children.
When Charles was telling me how foolish I was to delay giving him an affirmative answer, before I could stop myself I blurted out: ‘What about the children?’
‘What children?’ he asked in amazement.
‘Of the marriage.’
‘Ours, you mean. Then this is your answer. It is yes. My dearest Lottie, at last! I shall have it announced this very day.’
‘But I didn’t say … ’
‘You said, What about the children? My dear girl, you are not suggesting we have children without the blessing of clergy?’
‘It was thinking aloud.’
‘You were thinking of us … our children. What were you going to say about them?’
‘I am not a Catholic’
He looked serious for a moment. Then he said: ‘That’s easy. You could become one.’
‘I would not do that. Don’t you see, this is the reason why I cannot marry you.’
‘Such reasons can easily be dealt with.’
‘How? Would you give up your religion?’
‘I have to confess that I have not much religion.’
‘I gathered that by your conduct.’
He laughed. ‘Dear Lottie,’ he said. ‘Seriously, it is something of a habit. But this matter of the children.’ He narrowed his eyes and surveyed me. ‘We wouldn’t let it come between us. I am a reasonable man. You wouldn’t change, you say. I can see you are adamant on that point. Very well. How is this? Our first boy will be the heir. He would have to be a Catholic. But the girls we shall have, well, they will be yours. The boy for me … the necessity of an ancient family and all that … for future inheritance and so on. You understand. And the girls for you. That’s fair, isn’t it?’
‘I suppose it is.’
‘Then why are we waiting? I shall announce our betrothal tonight.’
And that was how it happened; and, in truth, it was what I wanted. It was what I had wanted for a long time.
Both my father and mother were delighted, and that went for the Tourvilles too. It was a happy solution to the situation. All the settlements which had been arranged for Sophie would be turned over to me. My mother said: ‘I am delighted. I was a little worried really because the French are so formal … and your birth being a little irregular … I know your father was concerned about that. He was considering having you legitimized. It can be done, you know. Now that you are marrying it won’t be necessary. I am so happy for you, my darling. I know you love him and he is such an attractive man. You are happy, I can see.’
‘Yes,’ I said in a rather surprised voice, ‘I believe I am.’
My mother began making arrangements immediately.
‘It is fortunate that the Tourvilles are here now,’ she said. ‘We can get everything settled. Though perhaps the wedding should not take place just yet. There ought to be a year, say, after that dreadful accident. I thought perhaps May. That is a lovely month for a wedding. And there is something else. I thought about having it in Paris … but somehow I don’t think so. It would be difficult at the château because …’
