‘Tell us what you are suggesting,’ said my father. ‘The Duc recommended Blanchard to us because … ’

‘Because,’ finished Dickon, ‘he wanted one of his men in your castle.’

‘A spy!’ I cried. ‘Léon Blanchard … a spy!’

‘Difficult as it is to believe of such a paragon … yes.’

‘But why here? We are remote from all this trouble.’

‘Armand was not. He had his little Band, didn’t he? Mind you, I don’t think Orléans or Soissonson could be very alarmed about that. But they are acting with caution and they could not allow such meetings to go unnoticed.’

‘This is a monstrous suggestion,’ said my father. ‘What proof have you?’

‘Only that Blanchard’s story was false. He was not a part-time tutor. When he was not here he was carrying on the work his fellow conspirators had designed for him.’

‘But he was an excellent tutor.’

‘Of course he was. He is a clever man … cleverer perhaps than Soissonson and Orléans himself. But he was not a Duc, was he? Therefore he takes orders until the time comes when he will be one of those to give them himself.’

‘He has promised to come back.’

‘We shall see if he does,’ said Dickon. ‘My bet is that he will never return to this château.’

‘And my son Armand … ’ said the Comte.

‘It seems most likely that he was murdered.’

‘No!’

‘Monsieur le Comte, we are living in dangerous times. What seems like melodrama in one age is commonplace in another. Blanchard knew there was to be a meeting that day.’

‘Blanchard spent the whole day in the château. He could not have been involved in murder.’

‘Not in the act of carrying it out, but he could have given the information as to where Armand would be. My theory is that your son was set upon and killed, and his murderers made it appear an accident and that he had been drowned in the river and carried away by it.’

‘It is a fantastic story.’

‘Fantastic things are happening in this country now.’

‘I really cannot believe it,’ said my father.

‘Then,’ retorted Dickon, ‘you must disbelieve.’

‘If Blanchard comes back he will be able to refute this story.’

‘But he has not come back, has he?’

‘It might be that his mother is still very ill and he must stay with her.’

‘Where does he say he has gone to?’

‘A place I never heard of. What was it, Lottie? Paraville. It is a good many leagues south. I trust he comes back soon. I should like to hear from his own lips that this is just wild conjecture.’

‘How do you explain Soissonson’s lack of relatives with children?’

‘Soissonson is vague. It might have been some connection … not exactly related.’

‘He doesn’t appear to have anyone, and he is hand in glove with Orléans who is doing his best to bring this country to revolution.’

‘My dear young man,’ said the Comte, ‘you have worked so hard and I know it is for our good. You must forgive me if I tell you I find it hard to believe that Soissonson would have a hand in murdering the son of an old friend.’

‘When revolution comes old friends become new enemies.’

‘You are very kind to take such an interest in our affairs,’ said my father. ‘I trust you will be staying with us for some little time.’

‘Thank you, but no,’ answered Dickon. ‘I must return to England in a few days.’

He was really quite angry with my father. He had been so excited when he arrived with his news—which I had to admit, like my father, I did not believe—that he found the reception of it a somewhat bitter anticlimax.

He was quite subdued when he dined with us and afterwards when he suggested a walk on the ramparts, I readily agreed because I was sorry for the reception he had had.

He said: ‘The sooner you leave this place the better. People are half asleep. They cannot see what is going on around them and when it is thrust under their noses they turn away and call it melodrama. I tell you this, Lottie: these people deserve what is coming to them. Don’t be as foolish as they are. Come back with me … now. This is no place to be in, I do assure you.’

‘Dickon,’ I said, ‘how can you be sure?’

‘You should go to Paris. You should see the crowds every night at the Palais Royal. The gardens are full of them. They are preaching to the people … and who is behind all this? Orléans … men like Soissonson. Traitors to their own class … and therefore the most dangerous traitors. It is all as clear as crystal. Did it not strike you as fortuitous that Soissonson should arrive just at the time when you needed a tutor and provide one?’

‘But he was such a good tutor!’

‘Of course he was. These people know what they are doing. They are not half asleep. He comes because rumour has reached Orléans and his gang that bands are being formed throughout the country. I take it they have disbanded this little one. You might say that Armand was ineffectual, and I agree wholeheartedly with that, but men such as Orleans are too thorough to allow even the inefficient blunderers to have a little success. I see it all clearly. Blanchard comes to spy out the land. He even joins the band.’

‘He did not want to at first. He had to be persuaded.’

‘Of course he had to be persuaded! He wouldn’t appear eager. His was a secret mission.’

‘It’s too wild.’

‘And what of Armand?’

I was silent and he went on: ‘Yes. Poor foolish Armand, he will never inherit his father’s estates now. I’ll warrant they’ll be for you.’

I looked at him quickly and he went on: ‘For the boy, of course. That would be how the Comte’s mind would work. After all, there are only you and that pathetic Sophie now. She was not considered for a moment.’

I looked at him coldly. ‘At such a time you concern yourself with such matters … ’

‘They are there, Lottie. You cannot ignore what is there.’

I wasn’t listening to him. I was thinking of Armand, going down to the river … a group of armed men springing out on him. But perhaps there was only one.

I felt sick and frightened.

I said: ‘I want to go in.’

‘Think about what I have said, Lottie. Marry me. I’ll take care of you.’

‘And the estate,’ I said, ‘and Charlot’s inheritance … ’

‘I’d take care of everything. You need me, Lottie, as much as I need you.’

‘I don’t feel that need,’ I said. ‘Good night, Dickon.’

He left the castle the next day. He was clearly very displeased with his reception.

Lisette wanted to know what had happened and as she knew something important had, I told her.

‘Blanchard!’ she said. ‘Yes, when you come to think of it, he was too good to be true. He was quite handsome, wasn’t he, in a manly way. Yet he never seemed to look at anyone except Sophie. He never made the slightest attempt to be flirtatious with you, did he, Lottie?’

‘Of course not.’

‘With no one but Sophie. That was a very gallant sort of relationship, wasn’t it? It could have been because he was sorry for her. But what was I saying … handsome and courtly. His manners were of the very best … and such a good tutor, recommended by a noble Duc. It was all so very satisfactory. Tell me what Dickon discovered.’

I told her what I knew of the Duc d’Orléans and the Palais Royal, and Soissonson’s connections with them.

‘Dickon tells a good story. When you come to think about it, as good a one could be made up about him.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, let’s allow our imaginations to run loose, shall we? Dickon wants you … very much he wants you but he would like you even better if you brought something substantial with you. I suppose the Comte’s wealth is vast. Armand would naturally inherit the bulk … but if Armand were no longer there … well, it is likely that Sophie’s being hors de combat, so to say, all that wealth might descend to you.’

‘Stop it,’ I cried. ‘It’s … horrible.’

‘You know what’s coming. If Armand were out of the way, you see … ’

I could not shut out the vivid pictures which came into my mind. Armand going to the river … someone waiting there for him … leaving the horse tethered … dropping the hat by the river … burying the body. Dickon had been out all that day, while Léon Blanchard had spent the morning with the boys in the wood and the afternoon they had sorted out their specimens. Dickon had been out, I remembered. He had come back late.

‘This is nonsense,’ I said.

‘Of course it is. The whole thing is nonsense. You will see Léon Blanchard returning soon and all this suggestion about the Duc de Soissonson will be explained.’

‘There is one thing which cannot be explained,’ I said, ‘and that is Armand’s disappearance … perhaps death.’

‘Yes.’ Lisette looked straight ahead. ‘It may be that one of our theories is right after all.’

Soon after Dickon’s departure the messenger who had come before to see Léon Blanchard arrived at the castle. He did ask to see my father but as he was out at the time left a letter for him.

When my father returned he sent for me and I went to his sitting-room where I found him anxiously awaiting me.

‘Come and look at this,’ he said and gave me the letter which the messenger had brought.

It was from Léon Blanchard and explained that he could not come back to us. He had found his mother very ill indeed when he returned and although she had recovered she was still in a weak condition. He had decided that he could not be so far from her and was most regretfully telling us that he was giving up his posts and was taking something near his mother’s house so that he could live with her and care for her. He thanked us for the happy time he had had in the castle.

He had sent separate notes to the boys telling them that they must work harder, that Louis-Charles must look to his grammar and Charlot to his mathematics. He would be thinking of them and the happy relationship they had enjoyed when he was under the Comte’s roof.

There could not have been more sincerely written letters.

‘And we are to believe that this man was a spy sent to us by Soissonson!’ said my father.

‘Reading those letters it does seem improbable,’ I agreed.

‘Well now,’ went on my father, ‘we have to look for a new tutor. I promise I shall keep Soissonson out of this!’ he added with a laugh.

I wondered what Dickon would have said if he could have seen those letters.

I was sure he would have insisted that they proved his case.

The whole household was talking about Léon Blanchard who was not coming back. The boys were clearly upset and Charlot said they would hate the new tutor. I explained that it was unfair to hate someone before you had seen him.

‘His trouble will be that he is not Léon,’ said Charlot.

The servants talked continually of what a delightful man he had been. ‘Always the gentleman,’ they said.

He certainly had the power to charm.

Lisette told me that Jeanne had said Sophie was taking Léon’s departure very badly.

‘I think that is the really tragic part of it all,’ I said. ‘I wonder if it would have come to anything if he had stayed.’

‘If he had intended it should, surely he would have done something about it.’

‘I am not sure,’ I pondered. ‘Class distinction comes very strongly into it and I imagine a man like Léon Blanchard would be very much aware of that. Perhaps he was just being chivalrous to Sophie and she, poor girl, longing to escape from what her life is here, imagined something which was not there.’

‘Poor Sophie,’ said Lisette. ‘His going is a tragedy for her.’

That night I was awakened by some dream to find myself in a state of terror. I could not understand what was happening. Then I was suddenly aware that I was not alone.

For those first waking seconds I was transported back in time to the days before my wedding to Charles when I had been awakened in just such a way to see Sophie at the foot of my bed in my wedding veil.

I cried: ‘Who is that?’

Then she came out of the shadows. She stood by my bed. She had taken off her hood and her face looked grotesque in the moonlight.

‘Sophie!’ I whispered.

‘Why do you hate me?’ she asked.

‘Hate you! But Sophie … ’

‘If you don’t, why do you try to hurt me? Haven’t I been hurt enough to please you?’

‘What do you mean, Sophie?’ I replied. ‘I would do anything I could for you. If it were in my power … ’

She laughed. ‘Who are you? The bastard. You have come here and won my father from us all.’