I said she must not tire herself with too much talking; but she replied that it did her good to talk.
“Be happy, Claudine,” she said. “There is too much unhappiness in the world. I remember the guilt I felt as a child. It should never have been. It was only when I married Dickon’s father that I started to live. Then I lost him and would have mourned him all my life, but Dickon was born and then I was happy.”
I sat listening to her; and I saw clearly what I must do. Not only for my sake but for that of everyone else. There was no way of telling whether David or Jonathan was the father of my child, but I was going to believe that David was. I was going to try to put the past behind me and be happy.
March was gone and April had come in milder and with a touch of spring in the air.
It seemed that Sabrina had lived through another winter after all. But that was not to be. One morning in early April, her maid went into her bedroom as usual to take in her morning hot chocolate and could not wake her. Sabrina lay quietly, serenely, at peace.
Death in the house. It had come quietly and was not unexpected, but that did not make it any easier to bear. Sabrina had lived quietly, in the background; there had been days when we had not seen her; but she was part of the household and now she was gone.
Dickon was very distressed. She had adored him so unreservedly, and all his life she had been there to applaud his virtues and excuse his faults, and to assure him that he was the perfect man. My mother comforted him, but she, too, missed Sabrina.
Jonathan was away at the time and Dickon said that they must send for him to come home for the burial. I had thought that he was in London, but the messenger was sent to the Pettigrews’, and Jonathan came, accompanied by Lord and Lady Pettigrew and Millicent.
Sabrina was to be buried in the family mausoleum and there was to be a service for her in our own chapel. The priest who had married David and me read the service and we all followed the solemn procession to the mausoleum.
I was surprised to see that Harry Farringdon had arrived with several of those people who lived near enough to join the company.
Evalina Trent was there with her two grand-daughters. Afterwards they all returned to the house, where wine and food were served.
Everyone was talking about Sabrina, stressing her many virtues as people do at funerals, and we were all saying how much she would be missed.
“At least she died easily and happily,” was the verdict. “She was so delighted at the prospect of the new babies.”
I saw that Harry Farringdon was talking to Evie and that there was a slight flush in her cheeks. I thought: I hope something comes of that. It would be such a good match for Evie, and she is a nice girl, different from that dreadful grandmother of hers. Poor girl, she could not help her relations.
I sat down because I was beginning to feel tired, and in view of my condition I felt everyone would understand.
I was not long alone. To my dismay it was Evalina Trent who came and sat down beside me.
“Nice to get your feet off the ground,” she said cosily. “I expect you’re beginning to feel the weight. What’ll it be now, four months eh?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Then there’ll be rejoicing up at Eversleigh… and your mother too! That’s really a bit of fun, don’t you think?”
“It is very agreeable for us both.”
She looked at me slyly.
“Oh, you’re a lucky young lady. Such a good husband—and a little one on the way so soon! You’re one of the favoured of the gods, as they say.”
“Thank you.”
“I wish I could do more for my girls. I worry a lot, Mrs. Frenshaw.”
“Do you?”
“Well, look at my Evie now. Pretty as a picture. She’s old enough now to be out and about in society. And what can I do for her?”
“She seems very happy.”
“She’s a good girl. But I’d like her to have her chance.”
“In what way?”
“In the only way! I’d like to see her make a good marriage, be settled like.”
“I daresay she will marry.”
“Yes… but what sort of marriage, eh? I’d like someone of some position.” She was watching Harry Farringdon intently. “Such a pleasant young man. He’s very rich, I believe.”
“You mean Harry Farringdon? Well, I don’t exactly know the state of his family’s fortune.”
“Ha! You think I’m speaking above myself, don’t you? Perhaps I am. It’s Evie that bothers me. I’ve brought her up as a lady. The best of education… It’s not been easy. Grasslands is not Eversleigh, you know. My Richard… he’s gone now, God rest his soul… but he was a bit of a gambler. He lost a lot of what my first husband Andrew left to me. Not that it was anything like Eversleigh even then. But I’ve had a struggle to make ends meet, you know, and I was determined to give Evie the best.”
“I think you did very well.”
“She should be gracing some rich man’s table.”
“Is that what she thinks?”
“Her? She’s romantic. Young girls dream about love, not security. Mrs. Frenshaw, that Mr. Farringdon is taken with her, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes, Mrs. Trent, I suppose I would.”
“You see I can’t give balls and banquets at Grasslands. Not the sort they’d expect. But I’d like her to have her chance.”
“I understand,” I said.
She put out a hand and took mine; hers was cold and bony; for some reason it made me shiver.
“Would you help me, Mrs. Frenshaw?”
“Help you?”
“With Evie.”
“I certainly would if I could, but I don’t see how…”
“Well, there are ways. You could—er—bring them together. You know what I mean. Pair them off and all that. You get my meaning?”
“But…”
She gave me a little nudge. “You will if you can, I know. Oh, there’s ways. You could invite him… and then have my Evie there. You know what I mean.”
“Well, we shan’t be entertaining for a while at such a time.”
“Oh, it needn’t be a grand entertainment. He just comes… and my Evie’s there. You could find a way… if you would.”
“I don’t think they’ll need my matchmaking.”
“A little helping along never did any harm.” She was looking at me steadily. “There’s reasons why you should help me, Mrs. Frenshaw.”
“Reasons?”
She nodded, smiling slyly, and my heart started to beat uneasily. What was she hinting?
“Oh,” she went on, “there’s a lot of secrets in life. Things happen… and you wouldn’t believe it unless you knew they were true.”
“What things?” I said sharply.
She leaned towards me. “One of these days I’ll explain. Then I think you would want to do all you could for my Evie.”
My mother was calling me and I said: “You’ll have to excuse me, Mrs. Trent.”
“Of course I will. Don’t forget what I said though, will you? Do all you can for my Evie. I think you’ll be rather glad that you did.”
I escaped.
“I could see that awful woman was bothering you,” said my mother. “I thought I’d rescue you.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’m glad you did.”
I could not get her out of my mind; and that night she seemed to haunt my dreams.
The Farringdons left on the day of the funeral, but the Pettigrews stayed with us for a few days.
It could only have been two days after we had buried Sabrina that the news broke about the execution of Georges Jacques Danton, one of the prime movers in the revolution.
Dickon was grimly amused. “Ironical,” he said, “that the very Revolutionary Tribunal which he set up should be the one to condemn him.”
“It is clear,” commented Lord Pettigrew, “that the revolution is coming to an end.”
“There is still Robespierre.”
“Wouldn’t you say his days are numbered?”
“It would be wonderful,” said my mother sadly, “if they all stopped making this trouble and life returned to normal in France.”
“Life in France will never again be what it was,” said Jonathan.
Everyone agreed with that.
“Heads are falling fast,” was David’s comment. “Just imagine Danton’s living only six months after the execution of the Queen. It shows that this is a struggle for power. I daresay some of them started out with ideals. Perhaps they did want to fight for the rights of the people. Then they grasped power… and they struggled for more and when they had destroyed those they thought of as the enemy, they began to fight among themselves. This is the struggle of the giants. Danton could not have believed it possible that this could happen to him.”
“Robespierre has rid himself of Danton, but his turn will come,” prophesied Dickon. “And when that happens the revolution will be at an end.”
“Their successes with the army are just amazing,” said Lord Pettigrew. “There is talk of a young soldier… Napoleon Bonaparte, I think he is called… He seems to be making a name for himself in the army.”
“I’ve heard of him,” said Dickon. “He’s hand in glove with Robespierre. If Robespierre falls, that could be the end of this enterprising young soldier.”
“Events are moving fast,” put in Lord Pettigrew. “I think we are going to see changes.”
“Which will be very pleasant for us all,” said my mother. “The talk at this table is of nothing else but the French revolution.”
“I thought it was apt to centre on these blessed infants who are shortly to join the family circle,” said Jonathan.
“A much happier subject,” admitted Dickon.
“I think it is perfectly wonderful,” added Lady Pettigrew.
My mother and I used to rest immediately after the midday meal for an hour or so and then we would feel refreshed until the evening. We often spent the time together. We would lie on the big bed chatting, and we both looked forward to those sessions. Sometimes one of us dozed and the other would lie quietly. Even though we did not always talk we liked to be together.
On this afternoon, she said to me: “So it has come at last. They were going to announce it, but it did not seem an appropriate time because of the funeral.”
“Who and what?” I asked.
She laughed. “Oh… Jonathan and Millicent.”
“Yes?”
“Well, we always knew it would happen. I am so glad. It will take Dickon’s mind off his mother’s death. He feels that so deeply, far more so than you’d think. He always wanted a link with the Pettigrews.”
I said faintly: “Banking interests?”
“They were in a sense rivals. Together they’ll be supreme, the most influential in the country, I imagine. It is what they both want, the Pettigrews as much as Dickon.”
“I see.”
“You took David… and that left Jonathan.”
“Dear Maman,” I said, “how worldly you have become! You talk as though marriage were just shifting counters on a board. This one is taken so the other will bring in the banking interest.”
“It’s not like that at all. You can see Jonathan and Millicent like each other. I assure you neither of them had to be persuaded.”
“I suppose Jonathan would always be aware of the advantages. Millicent too. They seem to be ideally matched.”
She laughed. “You and David were so much in love and I’m glad of it. That can’t happen so idyllically to everyone. But that doesn’t mean that things can’t be worked out very satisfactorily.”
“Will they live here when they are married?”
“I suppose so. It’s the ancestral home, after all. It’s usual for sons to bring their wives to the house which will one day be theirs. I see what you are thinking. In a way there’ll be three mistresses of the house. Two have worked out very satisfactorily, haven’t they?”
“You are my mother. That’s different.”
She was thoughtful. “Millicent is rather a forceful young lady,” she mused. “It’s a strange situation. Twin brothers… and Eversleigh belongs to them both. There isn’t an elder son really, though Jonathan was born a little while before David. Dickon doesn’t say much about it. I believe he thinks there will be plenty for both of them when the time comes, which pray God will not be for a very long time. And Eversleigh will always be the family home. Claudine, don’t worry about this marriage. It’ll be all right. I shall be here. And I think they will spend a great deal of time at the London house. That’s where Jonathan’s interest lies. He is rarely here for very long stretches at a time. He was… just before Christmas. I have never known him to stay so long before.”
My heart was beating uncertainly, and again I had one of those impulses to confess all to her.
Fortunately it passed.
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