‘If she could marry and have children, it would be wonderful. She looks quite pretty in her hoods.’

‘But for a husband she would have to take off her hood.’

‘I think Léon Blanchard is a very kind man.’

Lisette was silent.

‘I should be happy if she married,’ I went on. ‘I would cease … ’

‘To feel guilty for marrying the one who was to have married her?’

‘I know she had rejected him.’

‘For good reason. Oh, Lottie, you should never feel guilty in life. What happens happens, and if one person’s tragedy is another’s good fortune that is all the luck of the game.’

Sometimes Lisette made me see myself too clearly for comfort. I did feel guilty though, and if Sophie would only marry and be happy I should be able to wash all guilty feelings from my mind.

Lisette smiled at me knowingly.

‘Let us pray for a match between them … for her sake and for yours.’

It really seemed as though this might not be impossible. Sophie had changed. She even joined us for dinner now and then. She sat next to Léon and seemed to draw comfort from him and she began to look prettier in her beautifully coloured hoods, and there was a certain contentment visible on her face.

What a change since Léon Blanchard had come to our household!

Armand talked about his friends when we gathered over the meal and the servants had brought in the last of the dishes. There would be an atmosphere then almost of conspiracy.

‘These agitators are doing their work more frequently now,’ said Armand. ‘There was one in Aurillac last week. The trouble is we never know when they are going to strike. It is the same procedure every time. A man suddenly gets up in the market-place, begins to harangue the crowd, tells them how they are maltreated, rouses them to fury and usually that starts it.’

‘Why is it that you cannot find out where they are likely to be?’ asked Leon. ‘If you did … and your band could be there waiting for them … ’

‘We plan to have our agents watching for them, visiting the towns, listening. We shall catch up with them in time. Then we shall be ready for them. You should join us, Blanchard.’

‘I doubt I should have the time. But if I had I should be with you.’

‘I am sure we could arrange something.’

‘Unfortunately I have to prepare lessons for my pupils. I think perhaps that in taking on two sets of them I may have given myself too much.’

My father said: ‘Of course Monsieur Blanchard has not time to join your band, Armand. You should know better than to ask him.’

Any suggestion that Blanchard might leave threw my father into a panic. He had assured himself that having been recommended by the Duc de Soissonson, Blanchard must indeed be the best possible tutor. His coming had made such a difference to us all. The boys seemed to enjoy their lessons; they were more docile, more serious; the Comte himself enjoyed Léon’s conversation and would miss his company; but perhaps above all was what he had done for Sophie. It was so much more natural that she should join us for meals and live like a normal member of the family. Shutting herself away in her turret had been most unhealthy.

‘I shall see what can be done,’ said Léon. ‘I do realize the importance of your mission. It may well be that I can find a little time … ’

Armand was delighted and beamed his approval of Léon Blanchard. He went on to talk at length of the aims and intention of his band.

I often wondered what it was about Léon Blanchard that people seemed to find so attractive. I myself was growing interested in him but that was because I was seeing him as a possible husband for Sophie; but I did find he was in my thoughts very often.

One day when I returned from a ride I saw him going into the stables and I was suddenly aware of an extraordinary feeling, almost as though I remembered living that moment before.

It was uncanny. A kind of déjà vu.

Léon turned and faced me and the strange feeling vanished. He bowed with his customary graciousness and remarked that it was an excellent day for a ride.

That summer Dickon visited us again. He came unexpectedly and caught me completely off my guard. With characteristic aplomb he expected to be warmly welcomed. I told him that he should have warned us but he really was behaving as though my father’s château was one of the family homes. ‘Anywhere you are I think of as my home,’ he said.

I told him he was ridiculous and I should have to make his excuses to my father.

My father, however, had taken quite a fancy to him. It was not surprising. When my father had been young he must have been a little like Dickon. They both possessed an overwhelming masculinity and therefore perhaps irresistible charm for the opposite sex; deeply rooted in this was an assurance that they would be welcome wherever they went.

Dickon told me that he had two reasons for coming to France. One he need not explain because it was obvious: Myself. The other was that France was becoming the most interesting country in Europe and the eyes of the rest of the continent were fixed on it asking, What is going to happen next? Wildly conflicting stories were circulated about the Queen’s diamond necklace and the whole of Europe was agog for news. Some reports said it had been a gigantic swindle to discredit the Queen, but her enemies were sure that she had been involved in the conspiracy. The French exchequer was in a dire state and everywhere the Queen was blamed for her extravagance. The necklace was just another excuse to denigrate her. She was becoming known as Madame Deficit. In Paris there were demonstrations against her.

Dickon was very interested to meet Leon Blanchard. He regarded him intently and said: ‘I have heard your praises sung throughout the household, Monsieur. I understand the boys profit from your excellent tuition. I have two myself so you will forgive me if I am a trifle envious. We have tutors who never seem to be able to endure my sons for more than a few months. What is your special secret?’

‘I think,’ answered Léon, ‘it is to make the lessons interesting, to understand the young and to treat them as individuals.’

‘Monsieur Blanchard certainly has the gift,’ said my father warmly.

It was obvious even at the first meal that Dickon was eager to find out all he could about what was happening in France.

‘What do you think of this necklace affair?’ he asked.

Leon Blanchard said: ‘The Queen does not understand the state of the country and the effect her extravagances are having on the people.’

Armand put in: ‘The people will never be satisfied. The Court has to preserve its dignity. It is quite clear that the Queen has been cheated over this matter of the necklace and rogues and vagabonds have sought to commit a great fraud and have used her name to bring it about.’

‘That certainly seems to be the decision of the courts,’ said my father.

‘The people are rising against her,’ added Léon. ‘They blame her for everything.’

‘They have to have a scapegoat,’ replied Armand. ‘I am for harsher punishment for the rioters. We shall track them down eventually.’

‘Have you had any luck in discovering who the people are who are causing all this dissension?’ asked Dickon.

‘It’s organized,’ said Armand. ‘That much we know. We don’t so much want to catch members of the mob as the people who are inciting them. That is our motive.’

‘But what are you doing about it?’ insisted Dickon.

‘Don’t imagine we are standing aside and letting them ruin this country,’ cried Armand. ‘We are going to find these people, I tell you. We are very busy doing just that.’

Léon Blanchard said: ‘The Vicomte is deeply concerned with what is happening and has formed a band of men who share his opinions. I am happy to be one of them. We are doing very good work. I, alas, cannot be of as much use as I would wish. I have my work to consider … ’

‘You are doing excellent work with us,’ said Armand.

I watched Sophie while Léon was speaking. I was surprised that she had joined us as we had a visitor. Dickon had not shown by a flicker of his eyelids that he was surprised by her presence; he had talked to her naturally and although she was a little quiet she appeared to be at ease. In fact she looked pretty in a gown of pale lavender and a hood to match. I noticed how often her eyes rested on Léon Blanchard and although I was glad to see her changed and happier, I did feel a certain apprehension as to what the future held for her. Was it really possible that he would marry her? If he would, some of the happiness she had known during her engagement to Charles might be brought back to her.

Armand was talking enthusiastically about the work he and his band were doing, gathering together noblemen from the outlying districts. ‘We’ll get these agitators,’ he cried. ‘They’ll get their just deserts and that will hit at the root of the trouble.’

When we left the table Dickon said he wanted to take a walk round the ramparts and asked if I would join him.

I said I would. I took a wrap and we went to the top of the tower and walked round the path, pausing now and then to lean on the stone between the battlements and look out over the countryside.

Dickon said: ‘It looks deceptively peaceful, doesn’t it?’

I agreed.

He put an arm round me. ‘You shouldn’t stay here, you know. It’s going to blow up at any minute.’

‘You have been saying that for a very long time.’

‘It has been simmering for a long time.’

‘Then perhaps it will go on for a little while yet.’

‘But not too long a while, and when it comes the deluge will be terrible. Marry me, Lottie. That is what you should do.’

‘And come to England?’

‘Of course. Eversleigh awaits you and the children. My mother hopes every time I come to France that when I return you will be with me … you and the children to grow up with mine. Of course, I can’t promise you such a paragon of a tutor as Monsieur Blanchard appears to be. Who is that man, by the way? He is a very distinctive character.’

‘Did you think so? You have only seen him at dinner.’

‘He’s the sort of man who makes his presence felt. He seems to have changed the whole household. Not you perhaps. I hope your thralldom is for one only.’

I did enjoy Dickon’s company. I liked the way he could be light-hearted when discussing the most serious subjects.

‘I am in thrall to no one, Dickon,’ I answered. ‘You should know that.’

‘To my sadness, yes. But why don’t you come to England? Get away from this cauldron of discontent.’

‘Which you have said several times is on the point of boiling over.’

‘It will be no joke when it does. Some will be sadly scalded. But not my Lottie. I shall not permit that. It would be much easier though if you summoned up your good sense and left while it is easy to do so.’

‘I can’t go, Dickon. I won’t leave my father.’

‘Eversleigh is a very big house. Don’t underestimate it because you have passed your days in châteaux. Let him come too.’

‘He never would. This is his home, his country.’

‘A country, my dear, from which men such as he is will soon be trying to escape.’

‘He never would and I would not leave him.’

‘You care more for him than for me.’

‘But of course. He loves me. He brought me here to acknowledge me. I have been treated as his daughter. You chose Eversleigh.’

‘Will you never forget that?’

‘How can I? It is there while you are there. You are Eversleigh and I was the one whom you rejected for its sake.’ I laid my hand on his arm. ‘Oh, Dickon, I have forgiven it … if there was anything to forgive. You were just behaving naturally as Nature designed you should. No. What I mean is that it is not important any more. But I won’t come to England while my father lives. You can see how he relies on me. If I went and took the children—and I would never go without them—what would happen to him?’

‘I know his feelings for you. That is obvious. You are the one. Poor Sophie means little to him and he does not like his son overmuch. I see that. I am not surprised. Armand is a fool. What is all this about a band?’

‘It’s some sort of society … an organization. They are trying to scent out agitators.’

‘I gathered that, but with any success?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘But what do they do?

‘They meet and talk … ’

‘And talk and talk,’ said Dickon derisively. ‘That sort of thing should be done in secret. He should not announce his plans at the dinner table.’