But she had certainly fired their enthusiasm. Lady Eversleigh was delighted, for I could see that Harriet had taken the burden of entertaining her guests completely from her shoulders.

Other guests would be arriving over the next few days, and when they did we would put the proposition to them, and if any of them would like to join in, they could do so.

Romeo and Juliet would be difficult, Harriet admitted, but if they could do it, it would be like a touch of home to the exiles, and she was sure it would be more welcome than some light French farce. We should have to work, of course. We should have to learn our lines, but as the play would be very much abridged, that would not be such a great task except for the principals.

She smiled at Edwin. “You must be Romeo,” she said, and there was admiration in her gaze.

“‘O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art though Romeo?’” he said. “That’s all I know of the words.”

“Then,” I said, “You will have a great task before you.”

“We shall have a prompter,” soothed Harriet.

“I’ll be prompter,” volunteered Charlotte.

Harriet looked at her coolly. “Perhaps that would be a good idea. Though we do need so many players, there are not many female roles.”

“Bess Tredager will revel in it,” said Edwin. “She’ll like a big part. And then there is John Messenger and James and Ellen Farley. They will relish it.”

“Then,” said Harriet, turning to Charlotte, “it seems likely that we shall need you just out of sight with the script. It’s not a bad idea, as there are so few women’s parts in the play. Some of the women may have to take men’s roles. That should be amusing. There are only the Ladies Capulet and Montague … and the Nurse, of course.”

She was looking at me, a trifle maliciously, I thought. It was almost as though she wanted to shut me out.

She had turned to Edwin. “We shall have to work hard together,” she said.

“I am sure it will be more like pleasure than work,” he replied.

“Are you good at learning?”

“No good at all,” he replied cheerfully. “I think you should make me the scene shifter.”

“Ah, scenery! We have to devise something. But you are certainly Romeo. The part fits you.”

“Then I shall have to rely on Charlotte. And I’m sure you’ll give me a tip too when I need it.”

“You can be sure I shall do all I can to guide you,” replied Harriet.

Lady Eversleigh looked in to say that there were several trunks of clothes in the attics and we might like to go through them to see if we could find something that would be useful. We were all excited at the prospect and immediately trooped up to the attics.

What a hilarious morning that was! There were clothes in trunks which must have been there for years. Shrieks of laughter echoed in the old rafters as we tried on the oddest of garments. Harriet, however, found much there that could be adjusted. There was in particular a little black cap which fitted closely to the head. It was covered in stones which looked like coral and turquoise and had a peak which came halfway down the forehead. I was the first to see it; I seized it and put it on my head.

“It’s lovely!” cried Charlotte.

Edwin was smiling at me. “You must wear that,” he said. “It suits you.”

Harriet had come to me. “Why, it’s Juliet’s cap,” she said. “It’s just the thing.” She took it from my head and put it on her own. I suppose if it had looked effective on me, it would look doubly so on her. She certainly looked very handsome, for the jewels set off her magnificent colouring.

Charlotte said surprisingly: “It really suits Arabella’s colouring better.”

Harriet took it off and looked at it. “What a find,” she cried. “It is Juliet’s cap.”

We were all late for the midday meal but Lady Eversleigh was delighted. She was a born hostess and she must be thinking that her guests would so appreciate this house party that they would talk about it even when they returned to England.

That afternoon we went for a ride and I found myself side by side with Edwin.

He told me that very soon he would be expected to go to England. They were waiting for the command to leave. It seemed that the time had come to assess the effect of Oliver’s death. This was why he was with his family. At the appointed time he would leave for England to, as he put it, “spy out the land.”

“Wouldn’t it be rather dangerous?” I asked.

“If our mission were discovered … perhaps.”

“What I remember of it,” I said, “there was so much wanton destruction. I can recall how peaceful it seemed when we came to France, because even when we were with my grandparents in Cornwall, there was an uneasiness and we were watching all the time.”

“Danger can be exciting,” he said. “There is always that, you know.”

“Do you find exile dull?”

“The last few days have been far from dull. I am so glad my parents met yours and that this should be the result.”

“It is kind of you to say so, and a great adventure for us. We have lived very quietly in Château Congrève.”

“I know how it is. My mother has found it most irksome. In the old days she always had the house full of guests. Her desire to get back is an obsession.”

“As it must be for so many. Are you among them?”

He was silent for a while. Then he said: “I have always been able to accept what is—perhaps because I don’t take life seriously enough. You’ll no doubt find me rather frivolous.”

“Shall I?”

“Oh, yes. In these days it is better not to take things too much to heart. Life changes. Let us enjoy what we can while we can. That’s my motto.”

“It’s probably a good one. It prevents repining.”

“Laugh and be merry, for who knows what the morrow will bring?”

“It must be wonderful to feel like that. You are never greatly concerned about what may happen.”

“My father says I should be more serious now that I am a man, but it is difficult to cast off the habit of a lifetime. I have the gift … if you can regard it as such … of living in the moment, forgetting the past and letting the future take care of itself. At the moment I am completely happy. I can think of nothing more delightful than riding with Mistress Arabella Tolworthy.”

“I see you are gallant and determined to flatter me, but as you have already warned me that I must not take you seriously, I shall not do so. I daresay you would be as happy or happier riding through an English country lane with Mistress Jane or Betty.”

“At this moment I ask nothing more. Perhaps if I were in an English country lane with Mistress Arabella that could be a more desirable project, but it hadn’t occurred to me in my moment of pleasure. If I were at home that would mean that the excitement was over. I have to confess another failing. I enjoy excitement.”

“And danger?”

“Therein lies the real excitement.”

“I think,” I said, “you do not mean all you say.”

“I mean it at the moment. Later on perhaps I should mean something else.”

“You are a fickle person, perhaps?”

“Fickle in some ways, constant in others. Constant in friendship, I assure you, and I hope, Mistress Arabella, that you and I are going to be friends.”

“I hope that too,” I answered.

He leaned towards me suddenly and touched my hand.

I think I was already half in love with him.

The others caught up with us. I noticed that Harriet was riding with Charles Condey and that he was still a little bemused by her. Charlotte was with them. She did not betray that she had noticed Charles’s attitude towards Harriet, but I had already assumed that she was a girl who would not show her feelings.

While I was changing, Harriet came in. I had slipped off my riding habit and put on a loose gown.

“You look pleased with yourself,” was Harriet’s comment.

“I like it here,” I replied. “Don’t you?”

“I like it very much.”

She rose and looked at herself in the mirror. She took off her riding hat and, shaking out her hair, picked up the Juliet cap which was lying on the table and put it on. She studied her face from all angles.

“What a discovery!” she said.

“It’s really rather beautiful.”

She nodded, keeping it on her head, still looking at her reflection and smiling almost secretively.

“You and Edwin seemed to get along very well,” she said.

“Oh, yes. He is easy to talk to.”

“He’s very charming. Rather fond of the ladies I should say.”

“Perhaps that is why we like him. Naturally we would like those who like us.”

“Clever observation,” she said with sarcasm. Then she looked at me though half-closed eyes. “It wouldn’t surprise me …” she began and stopped.

“What wouldn’t surprise you?”

“If the meeting had been arranged with a purpose.”

“A purpose? What do you mean?”

“Don’t assume innocence, Arabella. He is an eligible young man … extremely eligible. You are not without some eligibility. Daughter of a general, who is friend and close associate of the King. You see what I mean? Here we are in exile where it is not so easy to mate suitably. Therefore, when an arrangement can be gracefully made, it is.”

“You do talk nonsense. I shan’t marry for years. Besides …”

“Besides what?”

“We should both have to agree, shouldn’t we?”

“By the look of you I would say that if the proposition were put to you, you would not be altogether unwilling.”

“I scarcely know him …”

“And he? I think he would be malleable. He is easygoing. I can’t see him putting up a fight against what was so eminently suitable. Oh, Arabella, don’t look so cross. Think how lucky you are to have your future so carefully planned.”

“This is your usual romancing. I think the lies you have told since you have been in this house have been … outrageous. Perhaps I should not have been persuaded to bring you.”

“Think of all the fun you would have missed.”

“And take that cap off your head. It looks quite ridiculous.”

“Wait until I wear it on the great night. I wonder what will have happened by then?”

“That even you cannot prophesy,” I replied.

“We shall have to wait and see,” she replied, smiling at me.

I lay awake that night, thinking of what she had said. Could it really be true? I had to admit that it was possible. I was seventeen and because of our exile there was very little hope of my meeting someone whom I could marry. I wondered if my parents had discussed my marriage with the Eversleighs. Our mutual standing was such that neither family would be averse to a union, and I supposed it was a great concern to parents as to how they were going to get their children married.

Had Edwin really been chosen for me? I had to admit that, although I should have preferred him to have chosen me romantically, I could not help being excited by the prospect.

I had never in my life seen a young man so handsome, so gallant, so attractive. But then what young men had I seen? The only one I could compare him with was the actor Jabot and of course he was very different from him. I had not liked Jabot in the least and could not understand why Harriet and Fleurette could have been jealous about him. Edwin had everything to make him appeal to a romantic girl, and I was a romantic girl.

What a glorious adventure! I was in love with Edwin and he was the man my parents have chosen for me.

The next day more guests arrived and they were all extremely excited by the prospect of the play. Parts were assigned. Harriet was Juliet and Edwin, Romeo. I was Lady Capulet, which I said was absurd, as I should portray Harriet’s mother.

“It will be a test of your powers as an actress,” she told me severely.

Charles Condey was Friar Laurence.

“It will suit him,” said Harriet with a laugh.

I don’t think I had ever seen her so excited. She was at the centre of everything.

Everyone was drawn into the project. The servants were eager to help. One of them was an excellent seamstress and she was working almost the whole of the day making costumes. Harriet was in her element. She sparkled; she grew more beautiful than ever, if that were possible. Everyone referred to her. I called her the Queen of Villers Tourron.

She spent a good deal of time with Edwin—rehearsing, she told us.

“He’s quite a good actor,” she said. “I am really making a Romeo of him.”