The Merest Loss

by Steven Neil

  ‘You are right, Jean.’

  ***

  Lord Palmerston makes a rare visit to France to meet the Emperor. Relations between them have dipped over the assassination attempt, now known as the “Orsini affair”, but it is nothing that a bottle of Krug and two bottles of Château Latour cannot put right. When he discusses the meeting the next day with Lord Cowley – at least what he can remember of it – he reluctantly admits that Emperor Napoleon is becoming a liability.

  ‘Not content with fighting the Austrians, he wants to invade Mexico. This will end badly,’ he says.

  ‘There is even talk that war is possible in America. Mocquard says Louis would intercede there, if only he could make up his mind which side he supports.’

  ‘God spare us.’

  ‘Even Fialin begins to despair. If anyone is a Bonapartist, it is he.’

  ‘Fialin has been a sound adviser from the early days and a trustworthy ambassador, even if he is a rather strange fellow. We have much to be grateful for, where he is concerned. The Empress has taken against him, though, and his days of influence are numbered. Who will replace him?’

  ‘He must be a bold man who speculates on the Emperor’s intentions. I must doubt whether he knows them himself.’

  ‘Indeed. I think Her Majesty sums him up very well. He has charm, she says, but he is untrustworthy and unreliable.’

  ‘Quite so.’

  ***

  At the Château de Beauregard, the restoration is in full flow. Weeds and brambles are grubbed out. Paddocks are reseeded and post and rail fencing is restored. Hedges are cut and laid throughout the estate. The stables thump and scrape with the sound of carpenters’ tools. In the house, plasterers and painters press on with the renovation of the rooms. Harriet stays in Paris at the Hotel Bristol while the work continues at La Celle and Princess Mathilde visits regularly. She seems to have taken Harriet under her wing.

  ‘Can I advise you?’ she says.

  ‘I would welcome it.’

  ‘Look after your own interests. Louis is resigned to his fate now. He need not concern you. Martin will make his own way. He has every advantage. It is not too late for you to be happy. Jean tells me there is someone.’

  ‘Jean is a gossip.’

  ‘He is a friend. He has a great affection for you.’

  ‘We have come to know each other well.’

  ‘You should know that you have friends here and in England. They will help if you need them. Do not be afraid to ask.’

  Later, Harriet thinks over Mathilde’s advice. She senses a change in momentum and her thoughts turn to the future. What does she really want? If she could have the life she wanted, how would it be? It is not so easily answered. She decides she will write it all down. She settles down at a desk, overlooking the Place Vendôme. She takes a piece of paper and draws a line down the middle. At the top of the left-hand column, she writes “wants”. At the top of the right-hand column, she writes “doesn’t want”. She sits, gazing out of the window. She doodles on the blotter. She leans forward and rests her head in the crook of her arm. She sleeps. When she wakes, the room is dark. She lights a lamp and looks down at the page she has prepared. Both columns are empty. She looks up. She crumples the page tightly in her hands. What has she ever wanted? She begins to compose a letter to Jem, but the words won’t come. Eventually, she gives up and writes a different letter.

  Le Hotel Bristol

  Place Vendôme

  Dearest Mama

  I hope you and Papa continue well and that everything in England is as I remember it. There is a little of England that still calls out, but I have been here in France for so long now that I think of it as home. I don’t think I shall ever come back now.

  As you may know, there have been some small financial details to organise recently, but I am happy to say that all is now settled. Captain Trelawney and I have decided to separate, most amicably, and I will live at the château with my staff and Martin. My work with the embassy is now complete and so I shall throw myself into my gardening and my charitable work. Martin is grown into a fine young man and is about to fly the nest for good. Nathaniel Strode is helping me with my finances and I am determined all my affairs will be in order by the end of the year.

  I have been thinking about the best arrangements for you and Papa and I would like you to come and live here in France, at the château, with me. You would have your own apartments and servants and would live a most comfortable life. Please let me know when you would like to join me here and I will make all the arrangements.

  God bless you.

  Your loving daughter.

  Eliza

  ***

  2 Ferry Lane

  Norwich

  Dear Eliza

  It was lovely to hear from you and to hear that things are settling down. I told your father that I never did have a good feeling about Trelawney and I’m pleased you are rid of him. I hope you won’t mind me saying that, although you seem to have done well enough for yourself, you have always been a very poor judge of men. There, I’ve said it. I’m afraid your dear old mother has to say what is on her mind these days.

  I am pleased that Martin has grown up so well. It is only a shame that we didn’t see more of him. Of course, the same could be said of you, but I suppose you will say that you were very busy with your important job at the embassy and that your poor dear parents had to be sacrificed to matters of state.

  Thank you very much for your offer to come and live in France, but I hope you won’t mind if we decline. We are old and settled in our ways now and couldn’t cope with uprooting ourselves and living among a lot of foreigners. I wonder that you have managed it when you are always telling us how you pine for old England. Please don’t think we are ungrateful for what you have done for us, but I think it best we stay as we are now.

  Is it too much if we ask that you might come and visit us here and bring Martin with you? Even a short visit would be appreciated. I wouldn’t want to keep you long from your gardening and your charitable work. I am sure it will keep you very busy.

  Please write again soon.

  Mama

  Twenty-Eight

  A Quiet Life

  La Celle-Saint-Cloud, France

  1861

  Harriet takes stock of her life. She is in her thirty-eighth year. She has a grand château, a title and an estate of one hundred and eighty-four hectares, three kilometres north of Versailles. Relations with her son are improving, slowly. Her parents are looked after and in good health. She knows her mother is right about staying in England. It could never have worked and Harriet has to admit to herself that it was only out of selfishness that she asked anyway.

  Nathaniel Strode tells her, in a note, that her financial situation is becoming ever more favourable. She is free, whatever that means. Certainly, she is free from any obligation to the British Government and free of her nemesis, Nicholas Sly. She is in radiant health and still turns heads wherever she goes. She thinks that she should be happy. Indeed, some things do make her happy.

  There are plans to remodel the north face of the three-storey château into a more classical style. She pores over the designs and allows herself a smile. The tree men have been in, to open up the view towards Le Chesnay and eastwards to Paris. She finds the prospects pleasing. On the south face of the château, two large wings extend outwards to make a courtyard. There is a fountain in a large ornamental pond, cleared of weed and restocked with fish. The terrace overlooks a new parterre garden, alive with butterflies. On sunny days, she sits here and takes tea in the afternoon. She finds pleasure in the shadows cast by the mansard roofs on the coach house beyond and the bobbing of the wagtails across the fish-scale tiles. The stable yard echoes again with the chiming of the farrier’s hammer, the clink of harness and the ring of metalled hooves on cob
bles. At feed times, she finds herself listening out for the comforting sound of whickering horses. She tells herself she should be grateful for her situation. Yet, for all this, something nags at her. She resists the plain truth, but, finally, she admits it. She feels alone.

  ***

  In late June, Strode comes to visit Harriet. She always looks forward to seeing him. He has a way of simplifying things when they seem complex. He speaks directly and concisely.

  ‘As I mentioned, all is restored. Your financial concerns are resolved.’

  ‘Thank you, Nathaniel. I am grateful to you as ever.’

  ‘Inflows comfortably exceed expenditure and I have taken the liberty of adding some new options to your Italian portfolio. I think they will do well.’

  ‘Thank you. And Trelawney? Is there news?’

  ‘Indeed, yes. I have spoken to the family and they are minded to agree to the legal separation, with no strings attached on either side. It is a good agreement. I will have the papers drawn up.’

  ‘Please do. It will be a great relief to have this settled.’

  ‘I believe we can safely say that your situation is looking very positive on all fronts. Lord Palmerston has delivered on his promises, at least as far as the finances are concerned. I understand, though – this must remain between us – that Her Majesty was unhappy with the initial proposal and told him to double it.’

  ‘It seems we have friends in high places in England now.’

  ‘So it does. May I ask if you have given any thought to your future plans? If there is anything I can help with, you only have to say.’

  ‘I am not sure yet. It has been a long time since I have been able to consider my own interests freely. I need to think about Martin’s future. He is almost a man now. He must make decisions about his career.’

  ‘I have heard good things about Martin. They say he has your spirit. But from what you have told me it has not always been easy between you.’

  ‘He has my temperament. That much is true. He must not be told anything. He has to discover it for himself. I was the same. If I was told a thing, I would never believe it. How little trust I had. I always blamed it on circumstances, but it was deep within me. His circumstances have been unsettling as he grew up, but that is not why he is as he is. It is because of me.’

  ‘At least he has not wanted for education and you are now in a position to give him a good start in his adult life.’

  ‘He won’t take anything directly from me.’

  ‘That is not a bad thing. He should make his own way. He will inherit eventually, but that is a long way off. You could make some investments on his behalf to pay out in stages, say at age twenty-five, thirty and so on. It would be up to him to take the proceeds, draw an income or leave it invested. Shall I put some proposals together? I can act for him, as I have for you, when he reaches twenty-one, if you both wished it.’

  ‘I am fortunate to have someone so level-headed when it comes to money. Please do.’

  ‘And I saved a snippet until the last. There is a full and final debt repayment from the office of Emperor Napoleon III.’

  ***

  At the end of the summer, Melliora Findon comes to live with Harriet in the main house. A lady companion is not Harriet’s first choice, but it is something at least and Mellie is a great friend. Days are spent in the drawing room, where they read novels and sew a little. They read out stories from newspapers and magazines to each other. Mellie is an accomplished pianist and the sounds of Chopin and Saint-Saëns tinkle and trill around the music room and out into the hall. Harriet wonders if this is how her life will be now. It is a pleasant enough existence, but not what she hoped for.

  Martin has his own cottage in the grounds, although he is rarely there. He spends time with Mocquard, who, apart from the appalling words and phrases he teaches him, is a positive influence. He is enthusiastic about meeting Strode, to put his own finances on a sound footing and to plan for the future. He has friends in the racing world and he is already an accomplished amateur jockey. Harriet thinks of writing to Tom to ask him if he will consider giving Martin some rides, but she abandons this approach in favour of a more ambitious plan. When she discusses it with Jean Mocquard, he is only too happy to help.

  ***

  Behind the scenes, Nathaniel Strode takes the initiative with Jem Mason. It is true that Strode has a business motive for talking to Jem. He has a client with a genuine interest in bloodstock investment in France and Jem’s knowledge and contacts there make him the ideal intermediary. And, of course, where better to view horses than the Château de Beauregard. But there is another motive. Princess Mathilde is right. Harriet has friends who will help her.

  While Strode works on Jem Mason, Mellie takes up the challenge of guiding Harriet. One might almost think it is being coordinated. One day, at the end of a long conversation over lunch, Mellie, usually so restrained but occasionally capable of striking right to the core of the matter, takes Harriet by surprise.

  ‘You tell me what you think, but not what you feel,’ she says. ‘It is just an observation.’

  ‘I prefer to keep my own counsel.’

  ‘I doubt that is the reason. You are afraid of feelings. It is deep in you. I see it.’

  ‘When you are haunted by your past, as I am, it doesn’t do to examine your feelings too closely. If you had led my life, you would know that. Don’t judge me, Mellie.’

  ‘I don’t judge you. I sympathise with you. I understand you a little, I think. Shall I go on?

  ‘Please do.’

  ‘From what you tell me, you plan your meetings with Jem; what you will say and how you will say it. You employ logic. You create a compelling argument about the case for reconciliation, which he will not be able to counter.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘It doesn’t work. That is what you have told me.’

  ‘So what do you suggest?’

  ‘A different approach, perhaps.’

  The simplicity of the advice disarms her: the source so unexpected; the truth so clear. Harriet feels as if a curtain has been drawn back.

  ***

  In December, news reaches La Celle that Prince Albert has died. He was forty-two years old. It seems that a sudden mysterious illness afflicted the Prince Consort and ten days later he was dead. All Britain is in shock.

  London Evening Standard,

  Tuesday 17th December 1861

  THE NATION MOURNS

  The nation now mourns one of the heaviest losses that has happened to the present generation of Englishmen. To slightly vary Southey’s eloquent words, ‘the death of the Prince was felt in England as something more than a public calamity; men started at the intelligence and turned pale, as if they had heard of the loss of a dear friend. An object of our admiration and affection, of our pride and of our hopes, was suddenly taken from us, and it seemed as if we had never till then known how deeply we loved and reverenced him.’

  The whole country yearns to condole with the gracious Queen in her bereavement. The sobered tone of talk in every man’s mouth, the arrest of public amusements, the outward symbol of mourning that everyone adopts as the readiest earnest of the great affliction which has visited us all are the outward visible evidence that a nation mourns. In its sorrow, the pulse of the nation beats as one man.

  So ably wisely and unostentatiously did this lamented personage take his part in the progress of England – in the decrees of its councils, the public education morally and socially, the advance of his adopted countrymen to the highest intellectual achievements, the liberal arts which raise men from the selfishness of society, the avarice of trade, or the mere indulgence of the senses – that his death for a while checks, confuses or even stops the development and completion of various measures that were adding to the greatness or honour of the country. Wherever he held office, t
he Prince did fit service; for each distinction, he sought to render the duty attached to it; and with a discretion, tact and calm intelligence he shed around the performance with which he was entrusted, the light of an example for all in high place, or with large responsibility, to admire and imitate.

  ***

  Harriet remembers her meeting with Queen Victoria and how happy she was. She recalls how she envied the Queen her settled life with the man she loved. She finds herself weeping, quietly at first, but then uncontrollably, unable to fight back great sobs of grief. She cries for a life cut short in its prime. She cries for Queen Victoria, who has been so kind to her. She cries for the children, who will grow up without a father. But in the end she realises she is crying for herself. She is crying for the life she could have had.

  ***

  As the year draws to a close, Jem goes to see Harriet at the Château de Beauregard. Nathaniel Strode is nothing if not persuasive. His straight-talking, man-to-man approach helps Jem to understand some home truths. Strode’s parting words ring in Jem’s ears.

  ‘Remember, Jem, don’t put obstacles in the way. This is your time. Seize the day.’

  The château is empty. The staff is stood down for the day and Mellie goes to Versailles at Strode’s suggestion. A mist still hangs in the meadows below the château, as the La Celle church tower chimes out the midday bells. When Jem arrives, Harriet has no time to prepare. The fact that he is here on his own account must be a good sign, she thinks. She knows she has to cut through the layers of defence they have both built over the years. She must take things back to the basic truth: talk from the heart. The ostensible motive for Jem’s visit, to view horses, is ignored.

  ‘We could have a life here,’ she says. ‘The stables, the paddocks, the long rides. It would be a quiet life, but at least we would be together.’

  ‘It is a beautiful place. I don’t know how to answer you.’