He smiled secretly. ‘I try to make a point of not doing what I don’t want to,’ he said. ‘I can imagine nothing more dreary. To tell the truth—but just for your ears only—I am really on the side of the Colonists. I think our government are behaving as foolishly as the French and should never have levied those taxes which sparked it all off. But don’t tell a Frenchman that. I take back nothing of what I have said about them. Frenchmen are making another of their mistakes which could rebound. You should come home to England, Lottie. You’d be safer there. I don’t like what I see here. There is a cauldron of discontent … simmering at the moment, but there will come a time when it will boil over, and this War of Independence … or rather the French participation in it … is adding to the fuel under the pot. Foolish aristocrats like Lafayette and that husband of yours can’t see it. A pity for them.’
‘Don’t preach to me, Dickon. I believe you were determined to get him away.’
‘I must admit that I do not like to see him being so intimate with you.’
I laughed. ‘He is my husband you know. Goodbye, Dickon.’
The next weeks were given over to Charles’s preparations. He arranged for Amélie and her husband to come to the château and stay during his absence. Amélie’s husband had considered himself fortunate to marry into a family as rich as the Tourvilles and was only too ready to install himself in the château. As for Amélie, she was delighted to be home again.
So within a few weeks of Dickon’s visit, Charles left for the New World.
It was several months since Charles had left and I had heard nothing from him. For some weeks I could not believe he had really gone; then I wondered why he had gone so readily. It was true that he had indulged in that foolish game of chance, but I sensed that in his heart he had wanted to go. It showed me clearly that he must have been finding our marriage vaguely unsatisfactory. He had married me and desired me greatly in the beginning; he still did, for there had been nothing perfunctory about his love-making and on our last night together he had been definitely regretful, declaring again and again that he hated leaving me. On the other hand, the excitement of adventure was on him and he was eager to start out on a new way of life—for a while at any rate.
I was sure he thought he would not be away for more than six months. Yet I could not forget that he had gone with a certain amount of eagerness.
Then Dickon? What had been his motive. To separate us, I believed.
During the months I heard nothing from Dickon but Sabrina sent messages expressing the wish that I would come to Eversleigh. ‘Poor Clarissa, she is very weak now,’ she wrote. ‘She would love to see you.’
My mother received the same appeal and perhaps if she had suggested going I would have gone with her; but she did not. My father must have persuaded her that he needed her more than anyone else. Moreover the situation between France and England was worsening, and the more help France poured into America, the more difficult it was for the English to subdue the Colonists, and the greater was the rancour between our two countries.
So there were many reasons why it would not be wise for me to pay a visit to England at this time.
We had settled into the new routine at Tourville. Amélie and I had always been friendly in a mild way; her husband was a gentle person, very honoured and delighted to live in the château and take over the management of the estate. His own business affairs had been small and he was able to incorporate the two without much difficulty. As for my parents-in-law, they were delighted to have their daughter back. I think they understood her more than they had Charles, so his absence did not appear to concern them as much as I had thought it would.
I spent a great deal of time with the children and it was enjoyable to watch them growing up. Lisette was my constant companion and I was more in her company than that of any other of the adult inhabitants of Tourville.
I remember well that spring day when Lisette and I sat together in the garden. Claudine was running about on the grass and the boys were out riding with one of the grooms.
We were talking about Charles and wondering what was happening in that far-off land.
‘Of course,’ I was saying, ‘it is difficult to get news through. I wonder if there is much fighting.’
‘I imagine he will soon grow tired of it and long for the comforts of home,’ said Lisette.
‘Well, at least he did what he said he would do.’
‘Dickon rather forced him to it. Have you heard from Dickon?’
‘No, but from Sabrina.’
‘I wonder …
‘Yes, what do you wonder?’
‘About Dickon … whether he just likes to stir up a little mischief or whether this is part of a great design.’
