Zipporah's Daughter

by Philippa Carr

  For a moment he was silent; then he seemed as though he were suppressing laughter.

  ‘You are a pair of very adventurous young women,’ he said. ‘Come on. You are going home.’

  He led us to the door and as we reached it Madame Rougemont appeared. She was smiling blandly.

  ‘Well, Monsieur St Georges. You are pleased …?’

  He said in a low voice: ‘I am taking these ladies home. They belong to one of the great families in France. Good God, woman, have you no sense?’

  He was clearly rather angry with her but when he turned to us he was all smiles.

  ‘Now,’ he said, ‘I am going to take you out to the street. I am going to put you into a.pot de chambre which will take you back to the hotel. Go straight in at once and never be so foolish again.’

  ‘Why is it so foolish to have one’s fortune told?’ asked Lisette defiantly.

  ‘Because frauds tell fortunes. That is not all. Fortune-telling is not the main business of that woman. Something you are too young to understand, but never do it again. If you do, you deserve all you get. Now go back and don’t be such silly little girls again.’

  We came out into the street; he hailed the carriage, paid the driver and told him where to take us. He stood back and bowed as we drove away.

  We were subdued until we reached the hôtel. Then we went up to my room and took off our second-hand dresses. Mine had suddenly become repulsive to me and I wondered who had worn it before.

  ‘What a strange adventure!’ I said. ‘What was it all about?’

  Lisette looked wise. She had guessed, of course.

  Madame Rougemont was what was known as a procuress. The fortune-telling was a blind. She had her dark and handsome gentleman waiting as they plied the girls with wine to make them acquiescent.

  ‘You’re making it up.’

  ‘No. I see it all clearly now. That girl met her young man because he was waiting for her.’

  ‘Do you mean that Monsieur St Georges was waiting for us?’

  ‘He was a noble gentleman. Therefore there were two for him to choose from.’

  ‘But he didn’t.’

  ‘Not when he realized who we were. Imagine the Comte’s rage if anything had happened to you.’

  I stared at her in horror.

  Lisette was thoughtful and then she said: ‘I wonder which one of us he would have chosen.’

  A grand ball to celebrate Sophie’s betrothal was to be held in the hôtel and preparations went on for days. Sophie was in a twitter of excitement and it was wonderful to see her so happy. She was thrilled about the new ball dress which was being made for her. I was to have one too.

  ‘You realize that this is a very special occasion,’ she said. ‘You will meet Charles and see for yourself how wonderful he is.’

  ‘I very much look forward to meeting him,’ I said. ‘I think he must be a bit of a miracle-worker.’

  ‘He is different from everyone else,’ she cried ecstatically.

  She and I paid several visits to the Paris dressmaker who was said to be the most fashionable in town. Sophie’s dress was of pale blue with yards of shimmering chiffon in the skirt and a low cut bodice which fitted her firmly and managed to make her look almost slender. Her dumpiness was less noticeable nowadays because of her radiant face. She was really becoming rather pretty. I was to have a similar dress in pink, which the dressmaker said would be a foil to my dark hair.

  ‘It will be your turn next,’ she said, as she fitted the gown on me.

  In spite of the excitement I did notice that Lisette was rather quiet, and I fancied she was getting more resentful than she used to be about not being quite one of us. I sympathized with her, for it did seem to be a little unkind to let her take lessons with us, ride with us, be our constant companion and then on social occasions make it clear that she did not belong.

  She went off by herself a good deal and often I looked for her and could not find her. If I had not been so absorbed by the coming ball, I might have thought something odd was happening. She seemed secretive and sometimes appeared to be enjoying a private joke. Usually she would have shared amusing incidents. But, I told myself, perhaps I was imagining again, as I often did.

  I was with my mother more during those days for she had thrown herself wholeheartedly into the preparations.

  ‘Your father is very pleased about this match,’ she said. ‘He will be glad to see Sophie settled.’

  ‘I suppose the Tourvilles are a very distinguished family?’

  ‘They are not quite Aubigné,’ replied my mother with a certain pride and I suddenly remembered the years she had spent as the wife of Jean-Louis, so far removed, it seemed to me, from the life she led as Madame la Comtesse.

  ‘I think they are delighted to marry into the family,’ she went on. ‘And as I said, your father is very pleased.’

  ‘And Sophie is happy.’

  ‘That’s the best of all and I am so happy about it. She is not an easy girl …and so different from you, Lottie.’

  ‘I shall not be so easily disposed of.’

  She laughed at me. ‘Don’t you think Sophie is very happy to be as you say disposed of?’

  ‘Sophie is in love.’

  ‘So will you be one day.’

  She spoke earnestly because she knew I was thinking of Dickon and she hated anything to disturb the perfect life she had found with her Count.

  ‘I will never be again.’

  She tried to laugh as though it were a joke; then she put her arms about me and held me against her.

  ‘My dear, dear child, it is a long time ago. It would have been so wrong to have allowed that to go on. Why, even now you are very young …’

  ‘The ball might have been for us both … Sophie and me … to celebrate our betrothals.’

  ‘You are living in a false dream. You would never have been happy with Dickon. It was so ridiculous. He was years older than you and because you were only a child it was easy for him to deceive you. He wanted Eversleigh and as soon as he got it he no longer thought of you.’

  ‘I think I should have been the best judge of that.’

  ‘A child of—what was it? twelve. Not quite that. It was preposterous. You should have seen his face when I offered him Eversleigh. He was quite cynical, Lottie.’

  ‘I knew he wanted Eversleigh.’

  ‘He wanted only Eversleigh.’

  ‘It is not true. He wanted me too.’

  ‘He would have taken you as part of the bargain. Oh, Lottie, it hurts you, but it is better to face facts. It is heartbreaking to discover that someone who professes to love you is lying. But you were only a child … and it is all finished now. You are not really grieving. I have seen you joyously happy. You are just trying to keep it all alive … when you remember to. But it is dead, Lottie; and you know it.’

  ‘No,’ I contradicted her. ‘What I felt for Dickon will never die.’

  But she did not really believe me. Her own experiences had taught her to expect a ‘happy-ever-after’ ending.

  At last the great day came. Lisette arrived in my room to see me when I was dressed.

  ‘You look beautiful, Lottie,’ she told me. ‘You will overshadow the prospective bride.’

  ‘Oh no. Sophie looks really pretty. Love has worked miracles.’

  She seemed rather thoughtful but I confess I was so eager to meet Charles de Tourville that I was not thinking much about Lisette.

  At the top of the staircase was the Comte, looking magnificent in his brocade coat, discreetly flashing a few diamonds, and his curled white wig setting off his fine features and his lively dark eyes; my mother, standing beside him in pale lavender looked beautiful and very much the Comtesse. I marvelled at her yet again, remembering the quiet lady of Clavering. And beside her was Sophie, radiant in turquoise blue and happiness.

  I was in the charge of Madame de Grenoir, a distant cousin of the Comte’s, who appeared at times like this when she was needed and was only too happ
y to act as chaperone. I was to sit quietly with her as became my years, and when a gentleman asked me to dance, if he were suitable, I might accept. If he were not, Madame de Grenoir—who was adept at handling such situations, having had much experience of them—would make it clear that I was not available.

  Once more I was handicapped by my youth. But at least I had been presented to the King and he had spoken to me, although that was a long time ago and the Comte had made sure that I did not come in the presence of the King again.

  Many members of the nobility would be present tonight because they were in Paris for the royal wedding. It was the best possible time to give a ball.

  I sat there watching the people arrive. One or two men glanced at me and hesitated and presumably they were unsuitable, for Madame de Grenoir gave them such cold looks that they moved on. I felt again that frustration with my youth and promised myself that I would soon escape from it. In a year I should be considered quite grown up.

  Madame de Grenoir was telling me about other balls she had attended and other girls whom she had chaperoned.

  I said: ‘You really must be a very experienced practitioner. What an occupation! Chaperone for girls! Not exactly exciting.’

  Then it happened and found me quite unprepared.

  Sophie was coming towards me and there was a man with her. He was tall and dark and I recognized him at once. I stood up uncertainly. Madame de Grenoir was beside me, laying a hand on my arm.

  ‘Lottie,’ said Sophie, ‘I want you to meet Charles de Tourville. This is Lottie, Charles, of whom I have told you so much.’

  I felt the colour rush into my face, for the man who was taking my hand was none other than Monsieur St Georges, who had rescued Lisette and me from Madame Rougemont.

  His lips were on my fingers and the eyes he raised to me held a hint of mischief.

  ‘I have so longed to meet you,’ he said. ‘It is true Sophie has told me so much about you.’

  Sophie was laughing. ‘You look alarmed, Lottie. I haven’t told all. I have only told Charles the nice things.’

  ‘And,’ he added, ‘the more I heard the more eager I was to meet you.’

  Sophie was watching me intently, urging me to admire. I sought for words, but for once could not find anything to say.

  ‘My father is going to open the ball with me in a moment,’ said Sophie. ‘I think the guests have all arrived now. If they are late they cannot expect to be received, can they?’

  I stammered: ‘It … it is a great pleasure to meet you.’

  ‘There will be many meetings,’ he answered, ‘when I am a member of the family.’

  ‘Charles,’ said Sophie, ‘you will have to dance with the Comtesse.’

  ‘It will be a pleasure,’ he answered. ‘And later I hope that Mademoiselle Lottie will honour me.’

  ‘Of course she will, won’t you, Lottie?’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said.

  Sophie looked over her shoulder at me as she laid her hand on his arm in a proprietorial manner and they walked away.

  I was too stunned to do anything but stare after them.

  ‘It is so good when a marriage is a love-match,’ Madame de Grenoir was saying. ‘Those two … so happy. I have seen some who are far from happy. This is quite different … a very, very happy arrangement.’

  When the dance began I was immediately taken on to the floor. I had no lack of invitations to dance and providing the men were suitable I was allowed to accept them. Madame de Grenoir kept her alert eyes on me as I danced and I was aware of her watching all the time. My partners were flirtatious, expressing ardent admiration, but I scarcely listened to them. I could not wait until the moment when Charles de Tourville came for me.

  He was smiling in a manner which I can only call mischievous.

  ‘I have been waiting for this moment,’ he said, as soon as we were out of earshot of Madame de Grenoir.

  ‘Oh?’ I said. ‘Why?’

  ‘You are not going to pretend that we have not met before, are you?’

  ‘No,’ I replied.

  ‘You were a very naughty little girl and I caught you, didn’t I? Do you often have such adventures?’

  ‘That was the only one of that kind.’

  ‘You learned your lesson, I hope.’

  ‘I suppose we were a little adventurous.’

  ‘Not a little. Very adventurous, I should say. However, as long as you learned that it is unwise for little girls to stray into the dubious haunts of the city, good can come of it. I must say I was delighted to meet you.’

  ‘It wasn’t a surprise for you?’

  ‘Of course not. I knew who you were as soon as I discovered where you lived. Don’t forget our families are to be united. We have to know about each other …not everything, of course. That would be asking too much. But we should know those little things which cannot be hidden. Like a beautiful daughter, for instance. There has to be some explanation. I know that there was a charming sequel to the Comte’s English romance and that sequel so enchanted him that he kept her with him and married her mother.’

  ‘I think I would rather not discuss my family’s affairs.’

  ‘Our family’s. I shall be a member soon.’

  ‘Tell me about that woman … that fortune-teller, Madame Rougemont.’

  ‘One of the most notorious brothel-keepers in the town. Forgive me. You are an innocent young girl. Do you know what a brothel is?’

  ‘Of course I do. I am not a child.’

  ‘Then you will not need me to explain. She has quite a fashionable apartment in another district but she does a little business in the quarters to which you went. I am surprised that a young lady in your position should have gone into such a house … in such a street.’

  ‘I told you, it was an adventure.’

  ‘Is life in the Hôtel d’Aubigné so dull then?’

  ‘I did not say it was dull, but we are kept under strict control.’

  ‘Not strict enough, obviously.’

  ‘Well, we slipped out.’

  ‘You were fortunate that I was there.’

  ‘I have often wondered about that. What were you doing there?’

  ‘What every man does there. Looking for pretty girls.’

  ‘You! You mean …’

  ‘I mean exactly what you are thinking.’

  ‘But you are going to marry Sophie!’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Why then … should you be looking for someone else?’

  ‘That someone else would have nothing to do with my marriage.’

  I was horrified and desperately sorry for Sophie. Here was another of those blasé young men to whom marriage was a matter of convenience. Dickon was back in my thoughts. Oh, how could they behave in such a way!

  ‘I see that you are getting ready to despise me.’

  ‘I think I already do. How much longer does this dance go on?’

  ‘A little while yet, I hope. You are a very attractive young lady, Mademoiselle Lottie.’

  ‘I would rather not hear you talk to me like that.’

  ‘I was only telling the truth. When you grow up you are going to be irresistible, I know.’

  ‘I do hope Sophie is not going to be unhappy but I very much fear for her.’

  ‘I promise you that she is going to be the happiest bride in Paris.’

  ‘With you visiting Madame Rougemont? What when she discovers?’

  ‘She will never discover. I shall see to that, and it will be precisely because there will be some others to charm me and satisfy my baser instincts that I can be a figure of chivalric love to my bride.’

  ‘I think you are the most cynical man I ever met!’

  ‘Call it realistic. I don’t know why I am telling you the truth. It is not very flattering to me, is it? Oddly enough I have to tell you. But then you found me out, didn’t you? We found each other out. No use trying to cover up our sins after such blatant exposure. Still, I like you to know the truth about me. I have grown
very fond of you, Lottie.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Well, it began when I looked through a peephole and saw one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen gazing into a crystal ball. A tall dark handsome man, said Madame Rougemont. Well, she was right, wasn’t she?’

  ‘Are you trying to flirt with me?’

  ‘You do invite it, you know.’

  ‘I think Sophie should be warned.’

  ‘Will you warn her? She won’t believe you. Besides, who are you to talk? What if I told of my first meeting with you in Madame Rougemont’s brothel? You would be in trouble then, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘And so would you. They would surely want to know how you happened to be there.’

  ‘So you see we are both caught in our particular web of intrigue. Dear Lottie, I do believe those wretched musicians are reaching their finale. I shall dance with you again this evening and then we will talk of more pleasant things. Alas … it is au revoir.’

  He released me and bowed; then he gave me his arm and took me back to Madame de Grenoir.

  I felt very disturbed and in a strange way excited. More than anyone I had ever met he reminded me of Dickon.

  Madame de Grenoir chattered about the Tourvilles. ‘A noble family … not like the Aubignes, of course … but wealthy enough. They have a château somewhere near Angouleme and a hôtel in Paris like most noble families. It is an excellent match, and he is a charming young man, is he not?’

  I found it difficult to sit there and listen to her and was glad to be dancing again. I was looking out for him all the time and once or twice I saw him; then he gave me a smile and flashed a message at me with his eyes which I was sure meant that he would be with me as soon as he could.

  The time came and there I was dancing with him again.

  ‘This is the highlight of the evening for me,’ he said. ‘You don’t quite look so angry as you did. Have you thought better of it?’

  ‘I still think badly of you.’

  ‘And I still think you are enchanting. Do you know, I have come to the conclusion that sinners often are … more than saints, that is.’

  ‘I do hope Sophie is not going to be hurt. I am sure she doesn’t know you at all.’

  ‘I promise to keep her in blissful ignorance.’