by Steven Neil
‘I am sorry if I have caused you any distress. The situation was impossible. I have to put France first. I can explain everything.’
Yet he cannot find the words. He is at the end of his prepared speech and he can see that Harriet is in no mood for forgiveness.
‘I am waiting,’ she says.
‘Let us leave it there for now, Harriet. You are angry with me. I understand that.’
***
When Nathaniel Strode calls, he tells her to see the positive side of things. It could be worse.
‘You should see it as a long-term project, but it is fundamentally a sound property. It will be a solid addition to your portfolio.’
‘That is something, I suppose. Is there any update on Sly?’
‘Not yet.’
Harriet does not have long to wait, though. Francis Mountjoy-Martin visits after a long absence.
‘You have been neglecting me,’ she says.
‘You seem to be managing well enough without me, Harriet. Or, should I say, Countess.’
‘I am guessing you have not come merely to flatter me. Do you have news?’
‘Indeed, yes. I have been in London. While I was there, I saw Sly.’
‘And?’
‘Sly is a cripple. He walks with two sticks and then not easily.’
‘I wonder he has not summoned me.’
‘You should not. He would not have you see him like that. He is broken, but do not underestimate him. He still has some power and influence. And he hates you with a vengeance.’
‘I have only ever done his bidding. He should have no quarrel with me.’
‘Harriet, he knows. And I know, too. Do not take us for fools. Be careful.’
***
Back in England, Jem has a fall in a steeplechase at Dunchurch and it reaches the front pages of Bell’s Life. Of course, falls don’t make the headlines often. It is in the nature of the jump jockey’s existence. Jem is not seriously hurt, but it is the circumstances that create the news story. The theory is that the horse in question has been doped. In other words, a drug has been administered that effectively stops the horse running on its merits. In this case, the doping is so severe that the horse ploughs straight through a fence, appearing not to see it. There is no suggestion that Jem has been targeted. The conclusion is that someone wanted the horse stopped, presumably to win a bet, and Jem was the unfortunate jockey. When Harriet hears the news, she reaches a different conclusion.
***
The year ends with a disagreement between Jem and Harriet. Harriet is more paranoid than ever about secrecy. She refuses to meet at a hotel or at his apartments and insists they go back to outdoor meetings. It annoys him, but he goes along with it. He can deal with the arrangement with Louis. He has pieced together the truth of it, but the rumours reaching his ears about Captain Trelawney cannot be brushed aside so readily. He is not entirely convinced by Harriet’s explanation of Trelawney as a helpful smokescreen for their own relationship.
Twenty-One
House of Cards
Paris, France
1854
Clarence Trelawney makes some rather half-hearted attempts, Harriet thinks, to advance their friendship. He sends flowers, but no message. She gives him scant encouragement. He remains a helpful diversion, but she senses Jem’s latent jealousy and doesn’t want to do anything more to damage their already-fragile progress together. The news from Francis Mountjoy-Martin about Nicholas Sly plays on her nerves. She imagines Sly back in his offices in London, dreaming up new ways to inflict misery on her. Of course, she has always known that it was Nicholas Sly in Lady Blessington’s room. Poor Margaret paid the price for her haste. If only she had waited, as they agreed. Harriet would like some confirmation about Sly’s state of health. Her normal sources draw a blank. Strode says he is still making enquiries, while Lord Cowley, who would be no help anyway, seems to be avoiding her.
***
In March, the British and French Governments announce that they are at war with Russia.
Louis Napoleon feels the need to flex his muscles, as far as foreign policy is concerned. The Emperor needs a military success to complete his list of achievements. Taking on the Russians, alongside the British and the Ottomans on the Crimean peninsula, looks like a fight readily won. He places Armand-Jacques Leroy de Saint-Arnaud in charge of the French troops and waits for news of victory. It will all be over within the year, he thinks.
There are other items on Louis’s list. Driven on by the success of the 1851 Great Exhibition in Britain, he announces plans for the Exposition Universelle to take place in Paris in the next year. It will be a celebration of all things French and, more especially, a celebration of France and the empire and, perhaps even more especially, the Emperor himself. This is no time for modesty. As part of the grand design, he sponsors the development of a Bordeaux wine classification; this will secure France’s reputation as the premier wine producer. He knows there are pretenders in Spain and Italy. They need to be put in their place. At the same time, it will promote Louis’s château and vineyard-owning friends to the top of the pyramid. No doubt they will show their appreciation in the usual way. Lord Palmerston is unimpressed.
‘Most Frenchmen are happy just to drink it,’ he says. ‘Louis Napoleon wants to categorise it. No one will take any notice. Mark my words.’
***
On the first day of August, the wealthy Parisians leave the town. Those lesser mortals left behind are the beneficiaries. In the early morning, a calm serenity pervades the parks and open spaces. By mid-morning, gypsy children in ragged clothes sail makeshift, wooden boats across the lake in the Jardins du Luxembourg. The park-keepers are taking their annual holidays and there is no one to chase the children away. The new “pelouse interdite” signs, so widely hated and thus ignored, are completely unenforced and impromptu picnics spring up here and there as lunchtime approaches. Small groups grow to larger assemblies and the wine flagons are passed around. A crackle of activity creeps across the park. Just after one o’clock, with the sun’s rays scorching the grass, the noise subsides. Solace is sought from the heat and the shady bases of the horse chestnut trees are encircled by reclining figures, sleeping off the effects of the food and alcohol. The occasional lurcher lies sprawled, legs twitching at the thought of a dream rabbit. Only the whispering whirr of the hummingbird hawk moths, flitting between the verbenas, seeps into the slumbering silence.
Harriet enters the gardens by the top gate on the rue de Vaugirard. She looks left and right. She is well practised. Her hair is pulled back into a black bonnet and her plain clothes give her the look of a teacher, or perhaps a lady’s companion. No one gives her a second glance. She walks diagonally south and then turns east along the southern face of the Palais to the eastern end of the gardens, breathing in the scent of the musk roses as she goes.
Jem enters by the lower gate, at the meeting of the rue d’Assas and the rue Auguste Comte. His stride is long but halting, as if he carries a weight in one shoe. He looks straight ahead. When he reaches the Medici fountain, he sits down on a bench and lights up a cheroot. He leans back, one arm resting along the back of the bench. He crosses his legs and blows out a series of smoke rings. Presently, one of the gypsy children scampers towards him and sits beside him, swinging his legs. They exchange a few words and Jem presses a coin into the boy’s hand. The boy looks at the coin and a beam breaks out across his face. A few more words pass between them and the boy skips away again. Jem finishes his cheroot and stamps it into the dust. He is on the move again.
At the far end of the garden, below the fountain, is an orchard. A wooden building in a beamed, Normandy style, festooned in wisteria, sits almost hidden. There are a few garden tools scattered about and a wheelbarrow stacked against a wall. A pool of water, from a leaking water butt, spills along the edge of the path and a robin dots down and
takes a long drink, ignoring Jem’s approach. Jem pushes at the door of the building and goes in. Harriet is already inside.
They meet like this often. It is not ideal, but it is a relationship of sorts. Sometimes she flies at him, ripping at his clothes, like an animal tearing at flesh. At other times, she sits, looking down, waiting for him to come to her. He never knows what he will find. A lot goes unsaid. There is an unspoken rule between them that the lives they live when they are apart are not talked about. They live in the moment. Today, however, there is a different charge in the air. Harriet senses it as soon as he comes in.
‘We cannot carry on like this,’ he says.
‘Like what?’
‘I cannot bear the dishonesty. I don’t want to be slinking about in the shadows.’
‘You know my situation very well. It is difficult. I am hopeful that things will resolve themselves soon. I don’t want to put you in danger. That is my first concern.’
‘I can look after myself.’
‘That is pride talking. I don’t doubt your bravery, but this danger cannot always be seen. It comes out of nowhere. It is driven by spite and fuelled by hatred.’
‘You are talking in riddles.’
‘I am sorry. Please trust me that we must remain covert for the time being. Nothing would please me more than to be open.’
‘I think we need some time to think things through. I don’t know where we are going. Do you?’
‘I am trying to hold us together in difficult circumstances, but I can’t do it on my own. Will you not meet me halfway?’
The question hangs unanswered between them. Jem stares at her. He looks as if he might speak, but in the end he kicks the door open and walks out, without a backward glance.
***
Even weeks later, Harriet still blames herself for the disagreement, going over the conversation, wondering how she could have managed things differently. Her thoughts go around in circles. At least Nathaniel Strode is right about the Château de Beauregard. It is a sound property and potentially a very beautiful home. He arranges builders on Harriet’s behalf and by the middle of September she is able to move into the west wing. She retains her apartments in the rue du Cirque.
One of the first visitors to the château is Harriet’s old adversary, Princess Mathilde Laetitia Wilhelmine Bonaparte, Louis’s cousin. Mathilde has a surprise in store.
‘I owe you an apology,’ she says.
‘I am not often lost for words. You have me.’
‘I thought you a schemer. An opportunist. I believed you sought advantage from your relationship with Louis. I find I was wrong on all counts.’
‘That is gracious of you to say so. Your apology is, of course, accepted.’
‘Thank you.’
‘May I ask what has changed your mind?’
‘I find that it is our Spanish friends who I should have been concerned with. And Monsieur Mocquard has been most helpful in explaining things to me.’
***
Lord Cowley also visits. Harriet is not quite sure why he is there. It is soon apparent that he doesn’t really know why he is there either. Lord Palmerston has asked about her, it seems, and since Cowley has had nothing to do with her for the best part of a year and Lieutenant-Colonel Mountjoy-Martin is carrying out other duties in England he decides he better see for himself. After the usual polite exchanges, it is inevitable that the conversation turns towards the Crimean War.
‘Was this why you wanted Louis at the head of the French Government?’ she says.
‘We don’t interfere in French matters of state. We are nevertheless pleased that the French share our views about Russian aggression.’
‘Sir, have you come here to insult my intelligence or do you have some other purpose?’
Cowley makes his excuses and leaves before she can get into her stride.
The Battle of Alma seems like a positive turning point in Crimea, but in the weeks that follow the war swings this way and that without any clear direction emerging. Despite being outnumbered by the French and the British, the Russians prove resilient. When Harriet reads the London Gazette account of the Charge of the Light Brigade in October, she is shocked by the loss of life. How many dead? Two hundred and fifty men killed and many more wounded. Four hundred and seventy-five horses killed or maimed. Was this what her support for Louis Napoleon was all leading to? She feels ashamed. No, more than that. She feels angry.
***
When the war continues to go badly, Louis Napoleon decides he must intervene himself. He will lead the troops at the front, just as his uncle, Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte, did. When Lord Cowley hears this, he is horrified. He rushes back to London with the news and explains the problem to Lord Clarendon, the foreign secretary.
‘The damn fool will get himself killed and our investment with it,’ he says.
‘That would not do at all.’
Clarendon charges Cowley with persuading Louis that it might not be a sensible course of action. He is not easily persuaded, but Lord Palmerston knows the way to bring him to heel.
‘Tell him he and the Empress are invited to Britain for a state visit.’
It is the breakthrough Louis has been seeking. The royal houses of Europe are cool towards the upstart Emperor, as they see him, but approval from Queen Victoria and Prince Albert will, he is sure, bring them all round. Thoughts of military adventure are set aside and plans put in place to secure the grand alliance.
***
Just before Christmas, Captain Trelawney makes an unexpected visit to Harriet at the Château de Beauregard. He explains that he is planning to come to live near Paris. His family has settled a generous allowance on him and he has wealthy associates who wish him to set up a stud, to breed racehorses on their behalf. He is thinking of setting up at Chantilly or, possibly, Saint Cloud.
‘Perhaps we will be neighbours,’ he says.
‘The grass is very good here. The foals and yearlings seem to grow well on it.’
‘Or perhaps we could even form an association. Your mares and my stallions. That would be a match, would it not?’
He is an adept, if not very subtle, flirt. She realises that this visit is in the nature of a formal courtship. There is no doubting he is a handsome man. And Harriet knows she is at risk of doing what she always does when she quarrels with Jem. She punishes him.
Twenty-Two
Cavalry to the Rescue
Paris and Nice, France
1855
Large parts of Paris have the look of a building site. The Emperor has ambition. His architect, Georges-Eugene Haussmann, is brought in to give substance to the great man’s vision. Paris will be a modern city, full of wide boulevards and elegant buildings. A city to be envied, a city appropriate for the capital of a grand empire. Construction work springs up all along the north banks of the Seine and as far west as the Pont de Saint Cloud.
Harriet and Jem don’t meet again after their argument in the Jardins du Luxembourg. Jem and Tom Olliver continue with their contracts, riding at the Paris tracks, but Jem doesn’t stay, preferring to travel in and out. Railway building also gathers pace and the Compagnie de l’Ouest links all the lines between Le Havre and Paris. Tom and Harriet still meet occasionally, but it seems clear from what little indication Tom gives that Jem is not in any mood for reconciliation.
‘Is it over, Tom?’ she says.
‘I can’t say. I never guess what Jem will do. I have known him a long time. I sometimes think life would be much simpler for Jem if he could spend it on a horse. At least there he knows what to do. He doesn’t have to think about it. Intuition takes over. Back on the ground, everything is more difficult.’
‘I have tried to make things work, but there is too much against us, isn’t there?’
‘You never really know a man like him. He
is not easy. Be patient.’
‘Will patience be enough?’
‘You are your own worst enemies. You both blame your circumstances for your inability to sustain your relationship.’
‘You are the expert now, are you?’
‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to offend you or to criticise Jem, but to say nothing is to deny my responsibility as a friend to try to help you. Everyone who cares about you sees it.’
***
Louis Napoleon no longer visits. Harriet thinks it is probably for the best. Jean Mocquard occasionally calls, with a thinly disguised offer from Louis, but when she refuses Mocquard shrugs. His heart is not in it and neither, she thinks, is Louis’s. A rumour circulates that all is not well “dans la chambre” with Eugenie. When Harriet tests this with Mocquard, he shrugs again and smiles. Mocquard can say a lot without speaking. Inevitably, they discuss the newspaper stories of how well Queen Victoria and Prince Albert have got on with Louis and Empress Eugenie at the reciprocal state visits.
‘A great success by all accounts,’ she says.
‘By all accounts.’
‘Then there may be more you can tell me, I surmise.’
‘Newspapers, here and in England, have a habit of giving us the news that our lords and masters want us to hear. It is the way things will go now. We should not imagine that we are hearing anything in the order of truth.’
‘Then it was not a success?’
‘You might think that. What is important is that the Russians think that the relationship between our countries continues all sweetness and harmony. The Tsar thinks an alliance between us cannot hold and he is relying on it. Anything that dents his confidence serves our joint interests. The war in Crimea depends as much upon attitudes as military strength.’