‘I really don’t want to listen to your boasting of your prowess,’ I said.
‘Well, let us leave something so obvious unsaid. Let’s talk of other things. Lottie, I am delighted that you are to be my little sister. I hope we shall get to know each other Very well indeed.’
‘I think it hardly likely.’
‘Oh, that’s not very kind.’
‘People who are not kind themselves should not expect kindness in others.’
‘Are you worried about Sophie?’
‘Yes … very.’
‘You have a sweet nature. Have you noticed that she has been less happy since she has known me?’
‘You must know very well what a difference it has made to her. That’s why …’
‘You don’t look deeply enough into life, dear Lottie. Sophie is happy. I made her happy. Isn’t that something to be proud of, to earn Sophie’s gratitude and that of her family? I assure you I intend it to stay like that. Sophie and I will live amicably together with the children we shall have and when we are old and grey people will point to us as the ideal couple.’
‘And in the meantime you will continue with your secret adventures?’
‘That is the key to all successful marriages - as every Frenchman knows.’
‘Does every Frenchwoman know it?’
‘If she is wise, I think she does.’
‘It is not my idea of happiness and I am glad that I am not a Frenchwoman.’
‘There is something very English about you, Lottie.’
‘Of course there is. I am English. I was brought up in England. There is much I like about France but this …profligacy … I … I loathe.’
‘You do not look like a puritan and that is what makes you so fascinating. You are warm …you are passionate. You can’t deceive a connoisseur such as I am. And yet you talk so primly.’
He held me close to him suddenly. I felt quite excited and at the same time I wanted to tear myself away and run back to Madame de Grenoir. I think I must have betrayed something, for he was smiling in a complacent way.
‘Lottie,’ he said, ‘we are going to meet … often. I am going to make you like me … yes, I think I can make you like me quite a lot.’
‘I never shall. I can only feel sorry for poor Sophie. Will this dance never end?’
‘Alas, it ends too soon. But never fear, you and I are going to be good friends.’
I wanted to get away.
‘You look a little put out, dear,’ said Madame de Grenoir. ‘Are you tired?’
‘Yes,’ I answered. ‘I should like to go.’
‘I don’t think you can do that until after midnight. Then perhaps …’
I danced again. I hardly noticed with whom. I was upset. He had reminded me so much of Dickon. Dickon had talked like that. He had never tried to make me like him because he was good; rather he had stressed his weaknesses. How this man had brought it all back!
I was glad when the ball was over. I went to my room and took off my gown. I was sitting in my petticoats brushing my hair when Sophie came in. She was radiant and did not look in the least tired.
She sat on my bed, her skirts billowing round her; she looked young, fresh and … vulnerable.
‘What a lovely ball! What did you think of Charles? Isn’t he wonderful? He says such marvellous things. I never thought there could be anyone quite like him.’
‘He is very good-looking,’ I said.
‘I think he rather liked you.’
‘Oh … I didn’t notice. What made you think that?’
‘It was the way he looked when he was dancing with you.’
‘Oh, did you see us? Weren’t you dancing?’
‘Most of the time, yes. But the second time I was sitting with your mother and a few others. I watched you all the time.’ I felt my face turning pink. ‘What were you talking about?’
‘Oh … I’ve forgotten. Nothing important.’
‘He was watching you all the time.’
‘People usually do when they are talking.’
‘Not so … intently. You know …’
‘No, I’m afraid I don’t. If it were important, I’d remember, wouldn’t I? Sophie, you ought to go to bed. Aren’t you tired?’
‘No. I feel as though I could go on dancing all night.’
‘It would have to be with Charles.’
‘Oh yes, with Charles.’
‘Good night, Sophie. Sleep well.’
I almost pushed her out and she went away to dream of her incomparable Charles whom she did not really know at all.
When she had gone I put on a wrap, for I felt a great urge to talk to Lisette. I wondered if I should tell her what had happened. She was very worldly. She would probably think nothing of it and say that what Sophie did not know could not grieve her.
I went along to her room and knocked gently. There was no answer.
I opened the door quietly and tiptoed in. I went to the edge of her bed and whispered: ‘Lisette. Are you asleep? Wake up. I want to talk.’
My eyes had grown accustomed to the gloom and I saw that Lisette’s bed was empty.
During the days which followed I saw a great deal of Charles de Tourville for whenever possible he contrived to be at my side. I tried to keep up an air of frigid disapproval, for disapprove of him I most certainly did; but I found myself looking for him and being disappointed if he were not there. I could not understand myself but I enjoyed talking to him. I tried to insult him at every turn. I endeavoured to convey to him how much I despised his way of life; but I could not hide from myself the fact that I enjoyed berating him—and he was shrewd enough to know it.
The fact was that I was bewildered. I was too young to realize what was happening. I was not afraid of life, as Sophie was; I was avid for it. I was ready to rush forward and savour it without wondering what the consequences would be. When I understood myself better I realized that my nature was by no means frigid. I wanted experience. Dickon had aroused me when I had been too young to realize that I was being physically stimulated and I had sublimated my feelings for him into a devotion and what I thought of as abiding love. Now Charles de Tourville came along and he reminded me so much of Dickon that I could not help being attracted to him.
I was young and ignorant, and although he was not old in years he was in experience. I think he understood exactly what was happening to me and found it very diverting. Since he was the sort of man who would visit an establishment like that of Madame Rougemont, he was no doubt in search of fresh sensation and a young girl such as I could provide just that. I gathered later that it was not such a coincidence as I had first thought that he should happen to be at Madame Rougemont’s when Lisette and I called there. Up to that time he had been a frequent visitor there and had looked in almost regularly to see if there was anyone who could amuse him for a while.
Naturally the families met often, which meant that he was constantly in the house. The wedding was to take place in three weeks’ time when all the excitement over that of the Dauphin and Marie Antoinette had died down.
In the meantime, as the families were both in Paris, and my father would no doubt take part in some of the ceremonies of the royal marriage, we saw a great deal of each other.
The Tourvilles gave a ball and once more I danced with Charles, and this time I was conscious of Sophie as she watched us. She insisted that Charles seemed to like me very much and when I protested that I thought he had a very poor opinion of me, she assured me that this was not so.
‘Oh,’ I said, ‘he is so much in love with you that he even likes your family.’
And that seemed to please her.
When I saw Lisette next I told her who Charles de Tourville was, and what a shock I had had at the ball.
‘Is it really so?’ she cried; and she started to laugh. But when I talked of him she did not seem very interested.
‘I only hope he doesn’t tell about us,’ I said.
‘How could he? He’d have to explain how he happened to be there.’