‘Because of Sophie up there in the turret.’
She nodded.
‘Well, the Tourvilles have come up with a suggestion and I think it is a good one. Why shouldn’t you be married from their place? I know it is a bit unorthodox and it should be the bride’s home … but in the circumstances … ’
I could see they were planning it for me and I was content to let them do so. I was very excited at the prospect of being married to Charles, not to have to fight against my instincts any longer.
I was not sure whether I loved him. I certainly was
I wanted change. I wanted excitement. I did not want to go back to Aubigné where Sophie lived like a grim ghost in her turret … haunting me. Though why I should feel a hint of blame at what happened I did not know. It was true that during that fearsome débâcle Charles had turned to me, had rescued me. But if he had left me to go to Sophie he could not have saved her.
Yet I could never stop feeling that niggling little sense of guilt when I was shut up in Aubigné with Sophie there reminding me for ever.
I had to escape and Charles offered that escape. I was going to adventure—erotic adventure which I knew in a way would appeal to my senses; unknown yes, certainly unknown. But the future would solve that for me.
We came back to Aubigné, and all through the winter weeks I thought of my wedding.
I missed Lisette more than ever. I promised myself that when I was a married woman I would have more freedom than I possessed now and I would go and see Lisette at her farmhouse wherever it was. Tante Berthe had come back and settled into her old post as though nothing had happened, but she had never been very communicative and I could not get an address from which would have enabled me to write to Lisette.
She was still travelling with her husband, Tante Berthe insisted. She would be moving into her new house with the coming of Spring. Finally I wrote a letter in which I explained that I was going to marry Charles de Tourville and I thought she and her husband ought to come to the wedding. I took the letter to Tante Berthe who said that as soon as she knew Lisette’s address she would send it to her.
I heard nothing and after a while began to think less of Lisette because I was so occupied with my own affairs.
We went to Paris to get my trousseau and my attention was taken up entirely with the gowns which were being prepared for me. There was my wedding-dress of white brocade which was delicately trimmed with pearls; and there was a white veil which would flow down from a pearl coronet placed high on my head. All hairstyles now were high so that one’s hair had to be padded out to get the desired effect. This fashion had been introduced by the Court hairdressers because Marie Antoinette’s high forehead made it a becoming style for her. And it certainly was becoming except when carried to extreme, which often happens with fashions sooner or later.
However, I had a pleasant time in Paris and for the first time since the accident could ride down the Champs-Elysees without feeling unbearably sad.
All the clothes would be delivered to Aubigné so that we could make sure they were what I wanted and then they would be sent on to Tourville. Aubigné would no longer be my home after the wedding as I should be with my husband’s people. I think at one time that would have saddened me. It no longer did. What I wanted more than anything was to escape. I wanted to get away from my childhood, to understand the emotions which Dickon had first aroused in me before I realized what they meant. I had grown up since then and I knew that Charles would be my tutor.
Often I tried on my dresses. I revelled in them. Silks and velvets, charmingly simple day dresses and an elegant riding habit in pearl grey. Excitement did something for me, such as love had for Sophie.
‘You can see she’s in love,’ said one of the maids, for several of them peeped in while I was trying on my dresses.
Was I? I didn’t know. But whatever it was, I was pleased to be in it.
The wedding was to be in May, exactly a year since Sophie’s tragedy, and we should have a quiet wedding because people might remember that Charles had been going to marry Sophie.
I was longing for the day of our departure for Tourville and yet in a way I was savouring these days of preparation. How often since have I thought that anticipation is sometimes more delightful than the realization. I revelled in looking forward to the future in delicious uncertainty of what it held for me.
And so the days passed. It was the night before we were to leave. One of the maids would pack my wedding-dress after we had left and it would come along after us with my other clothes. The dress was now hung in a cupboard and I was constantly peeping at it.
I went to bed early, for we should be up as soon as it was light in order to begin the long journey which lay before us, and as I was tired I was soon asleep.
