She spoke German as a foreigner speaks it and he knew from her accent that she was French.
The Princess had presented him to her.
‘Take care of my little demoiselle d’honneur,’ she said, ‘and she will see that you are well cared for as it is your first visit to us and we want it to be the forerunner of many.’
Perhaps she was being a little mischievous. Perhaps she was thinking of his reputation for indulging in amorous intrigue, and Eléonore’s for virtue; but she as well as these two were astonished at what happened that night.
They danced together and they talked. Those who knew George William well would have been surprised, for his manner had changed. Into his voice there had come a gentleness which had never been there before. There was a complete absense of innuendo in his remarks; he was not planning the quickest route to the desired goal. Not that she did not delight him; she did, as he had never been so enchanted; but from the first moment of their meeting this was an adventure such as he had never indulged in before. He took her to an alcove lightly secluded by foliage where he said they could talk in comfort. He wanted to know why she was in Breda, how long she had been there, how long she intended to remain, what had brought her there.
‘I was at the Court of France,’ she said, ‘but we are Hugue nots.’
‘Exiled then?’ he asked.
She nodded.
‘And you long to return?’
‘Not as things are. It would not be wise.’
‘So you live here in the Princess’s household.’
‘She has been so good to us.’
‘To you … and others?’
‘To my family. My father and my sister Angelique.’
‘They should have called you Angelique,’ he told her. ‘It would have suited you. Though I prefer your name. But perhaps any name which was yours would become beautiful simply for that reason.’
‘You like to pay compliments.’
‘And you to receive – although I know you must grow weary of them.’
‘I like best the truth,’ she said.
‘Perhaps I may meet your father and sister.’
‘I am sure they would be delighted. My father is Alexandre d’Esmiers, Marquis d’Olbreuse.’
‘Do you think he would be pleased to receive me?’
‘He is always delighted to receive friends of the Princesse de Tarente. She has been so good to us. To have many friends helps to soothe the … mal du pays.’
‘And you suffer from that?’
‘A little. Though perhaps not so much as my father. It is easier to leave your home when you are young. I think he often dreams of Poitou. He would love to go back. But how can he? His estates were confiscated after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes when Huguenots were persecuted by the Government.’
‘That must have been sad for your family – but I can only be glad because it has brought you here.’
She was quite enchanting, and after the first shock of being with the most beautiful and attractive young woman he had ever met he began to wonder how soon he could make her his mistress.
He was too experienced to make a false step; he knew very well that he would have to be patient. He was prepared for a little delay, but because of that, the culmination would seem all the more worthwhile when it was reached.
He went warily through the evening – yet as though in a dream. And when he said farewell to the Princess he had made no assignation with her charming demoiselle d’honneur, not being sure how this should be done.
‘I trust,’ said the Princess, a little slyly, ‘that Mademoiselle d’Olbreuse looked after you?’
‘Admirably,’ he answered.
‘I am so pleased. You look as though you have really enjoyed my little ball.’
‘So much,’ he answered fervently. ‘As I never have enjoyed a ball before.’
She laughed and tapped him with her fan. ‘I am delighted. Then my little Mademoiselle did her duty. She is such a good and virtuous girl. I knew I could trust you with her … and her with you.’
Two days later he presented himself at the Princess’s house and begged for an audience with her.
Once more he was received graciously. He looked about him for a sign of Eléonore. There was none.
‘You are contented in Breda?’ asked the Princess.
‘I am not sure. It has occurred to me that I should not give myself entirely to pleasure while I am here.’
The Princess raised her eyebrows and asked what he had in mind.
‘My education in languages has been rather neglected, I fear. I have been thinking that while I am staying here it might be a good opportunity to remedy that in some way.’
‘Oh? What language did you wish to learn?’
‘French. I was wondering if you could suggest a teacher.’
‘I doubt not I could find you one. Some old nobleman – an exile from France, very short of money – might be glad to earn a little.’
‘You have many French friends with you here in Breda.’
She studied him archly. ‘As you discovered when you last visited us.’
‘Yes. There was one young French woman …’
‘Ah, Mademoiselle d’Olbreuse. What an excellent idea! Her father might help you. Oh, I am not sure. They are a very proud family. You have no idea how proud some of these exiles can be. Pride seems to grow out of poverty.’
‘To show it perhaps is their only way of reminding others of their past splendours.’
‘I am sure you are right. I do not think the Marquis would care to become a teacher of French. I believe I know an old professor …’
‘Well, I fear I should not wish to be so serious as that. He would put me through lessons which I should find beyond my powers of concentration.’
‘But my dear friend, you will have to concentrate if you wish to learn a language.’
‘I meant rather to learn through conversation … light, amusing conversation.’
‘Such as you might exchange with a young lady?’
‘Exactly.’
‘With say … Mademoiselle d’Olbreuse?’
‘That is what I mean.’
She laughed and nodded. ‘Well, I could ask Eléonore how she would feel about giving you such lessons. Shall I do so?’
‘I would deem it a great favour if you did.’
‘It would please me to please you,’ she aswered. ‘After all we are connected by marriage now. But I must warn you, cousin. Are you my cousin? Let us pretend so. It is such a pleasant, cosy relationship. I must warn you that it could only be Mademoiselle d’Olbreuse teaching you the French language. You would not be expected, however tempted, to teach her anything.’
She laughed and went on. ‘She is an enchanting creature, I grant you. She is the loveliest girl I have ever seen. Do you agree with me?’
He nodded seriously.
‘Consider, cousin. She will never be your mistress. Would it not be better at this stage to turn your attention towards an easier conquest? I would not have your stay in Breda clouded in any way.’
‘You are very kind.’
‘Well, we are … cousins, and I want to help you.’
‘So you will ask this lady if she will consent to instruct me in the French language?’
‘If you are still sure that you want to learn it?’
‘I was never more sure of anything in my life,’ he answered.
‘Then, I shall ask her.’
When he had left she was thoughtful for a while. He was a handsome fellow and well-versed in the arts of seduction. It would be interesting to see what happened now. How would he tilt against Eléonore’s impregnable virtue. She could not for the life of her guess how this would end.
The Princesse de Tarente obligingly lent them a room. Eléonore sat on one side of the table, he on the other; he watched her gesticulating hands; he listened to her fluting voice.