The Adultress (54 page)

Lisette always amused me with her banter. Sometimes she seemed to despise the nobility but she studied so hard at lessons because she was so anxious to be regarded as a member of it. If I had my dreams about Dickon’s one day returning to me with explanations and reconciliations, she had her dreams of marrying a duke and going to Court and perhaps catching the King’s eye and becoming as great an influence there as Madame du Barry.

We often lay on the grass overlooking the moat weaving rosy dreams of the future. Sophie used to be quite baffled by the outrageous situations we conjured up; they were so fantastic and alike in one respect. Lisette and I were always the glorious heroines in the centre of our romantic adventures.

During the time Sophie was away—it was fourteen days and much of that was spent in travelling, we did spare a thought for her and wondered whether she would come back betrothed to Charles de Tourville. We made plans to comfort her and to keep her mind from the horror marriage would mean to her.

Our amazement was great when she did come. She was a different Sophie. She had become almost pretty. Even her lank hair had a special sheen to it; and the expression on her face was almost rapt.

Lisette and I exchanged glances, determined to find out what had happened to change her.

We might have guessed. Sophie was in love.

She even talked about it.

‘From the moment I saw Charles … I knew … and so did he. I couldn’t believe it. How could
he
feel like that …’

‘Like what?’ demanded Lisette.

‘In … love,’ murmured Sophie. ‘With me …’

I was delighted for her and so was Lisette. We were very fond of her and were always trying to help her when we were not endeavouring to make her join in some mischief. She talked of nothing else but Charles de Tourville … how handsome he was, how charming, how brilliant. They had ridden together—not alone, of course—but in a party; but Charles had always contrived to be beside Sophie. Her father and Charles’s father had become great friends; and my mother and Charles’s mother had found so much to talk about.

The visit had been a great success and nothing would ever be the same again.

Sophie had found her true self. She had been brought face to face with the fact that her lack of attraction had been largely due to herself. She was still reserved—one did not change one’s entire character overnight—but Charles had done a great deal for her and before I met him I liked him for doing that.

Lisette said to me when we were alone: ‘Do you think he really fell in love with her or is it because he wants the marriage? An alliance with Aubigné would be very desirable for a family like the Tourvilles.’

I looked rather apprehensively at the knowledgeable Lisette with her ears in two camps and who was in possession of all the gossip from servants, who had got it from servants in other households. The thought had occurred to me but I would not allow myself to believe it. I wanted so much for Sophie to cast off her shyness and self-deprecation. I wanted her to be happy.

I asked my mother about it. She said: ‘It worked so well. It was just as we hoped. Charles is very charming and of course the Tourvilles were very anxious for the match. Your father is delighted. We were all rather surprised that Sophie was such a success. Charles seemed to work some magic on her.’

‘The magic of love,’ I said dramatically.

‘Yes,’ agreed my mother, looking back I was sure to those long-ago days when my father had come into her life and shown her that she was not the sort of person she had hitherto believed herself to be. Just as Charles de Tourville had for Sophie.

So Sophie was to be married. The wedding would not take place in May as the whole Court and my parents’ circle of friends would be taken up with that other wedding; but preparations would go on for some time, for besides the making of the trousseau there were marriage settlements, which needed a great deal of negotiations where such families as the Aubignés and Tourvilles were concerned.

Sophie was the most important member of the household now. She was given her own maid—Jeanne Fougère, a girl a few years older than herself who had been one of the serving girls and was delighted to become a lady’s maid. She took her duties seriously and because Sophie was so pleased to have her and she so happy to be there, an immediate bond sprang up between them.

It was pleasant to watch Sophie’s progress but Lisette was growing restless. She had been educated as we were and yet was never really allowed to cross the social barrier; she did not sit at table with us but ate her meals with Tante Berthe and Jacques, the major-domo, in a special small dining-room where, Lisette told me, formality was at its greatest. But being Lisette she found some amusement in the procedure and as both Tante Berthe and Jacques were prodigiously interested in food, what was served in their dining-room could be compared very favourably with that eaten in the great hall or the family
salle à manger.
Lisette was grateful to have the education of a daughter of a nobleman but at times I fancied I caught a glimmer of resentment in her eyes.

It was typical of her that, with Sophie so much in demand and being constantly whisked away from us, she should think of our doing something which would amuse us and show Sophie, when we had the opportunity of telling her, that we too could live excitingly.

One of the servant girls had told her about Madame Rougemont, the great clairvoyant, who could see into the future and could give the most glowing accounts of what was to come.

The serving-girl had herself been to Madame Rougemont. It had been the most exciting adventure. She had sat in a room and Madame Rougemont had read her palm and looked into the crystal ball.

‘I see a tall dark gentleman,’ she had told the girl. ‘You are going to meet him soon and he will fall in love with you.’

‘And,’ said Lisette, ‘no sooner did she step outside Madame Rougemont’s salon than there he was. She said it was wonderful and she is going to meet him again. But wasn’t that strange? She had said a tall dark gentleman … and there he was.’

The more Lisette thought about it, the more determined did she become that we ourselves must pay a visit to Madame Rougemont. Our previous foray into the streets had not been very successful. In fact we had had a real scare; I reminded Lisette of this and she said: ‘Well, you know why. We did not have the right clothes. We must get some.’

I suppose we could have borrowed some from the servants with whom Lisette was on such good terms, but she had heard that second-hand clothes were sold in the Place de Grève on Mondays and decided that it would add spice to the adventure if we purchased them ourselves.

How we laughed! It was necessary to slip out of the house in the morning, which was not easy for we had to elude our governess and tutors. We chose a time when we had no lessons and went into the streets in our morning gowns which were the plainest we had.

What fun it was to walk through Paris! I would never lose the exhilaration I felt in those streets. Walking was different from riding; one saw more; one became more part of the scene.

There were people everywhere and no one took much notice of us except the occasional man who threw us a speculative glance.

Lisette, who had more freedom than I, was more familiar with the streets. She was allowed occasionally to go on some errand for Tante Berthe in the company of one of the servants. She revelled in her knowledge. She showed me the shops as we passed.

‘There,’ she said, ‘is the grocer-druggist. You can buy lots of things there … brandy, paint, sugar, lemonade, and confiture of all kinds with arsenic and
aqua fortis.
So if you want to poison someone you will know where to come.’

‘Do people really …’

‘Of course they do. Have you never heard of Marchioness de Brinvilliers who, a hundred years ago, poisoned people who were in her way? She used to try her poisons out on the hospital patients and went visiting the sick and taking little goodies for them. Then she would come and see what effect they had had and whether it was safe to use them.’

‘How diabolical.’

‘People are like that sometimes,’ said Lisette blithely.

She pointed out the narrow winding streets through which we must not venture and even she had no desire to do so. She also identified an old
marcheuse,
a fearful little creature who scuttled past; her face was scarred with the ravages of some terrible disease.

‘Once,’ said Lisette, ‘she was a beautiful woman. But a life of sin made her diseased and now she is fit only to run errands for the lowest type of prostitute. A lesson to us all,’ she added piously. ‘It just shows what terrible things can happen to women.’

She was sad for a moment. Lisette’s moods did change rather rapidly; and then she brightened.

‘Here is the Place de Grève. No executions here today because it is a Monday … but second-hand clothes instead.’

I couldn’t help crying out with pleasure, for ahead of us was a noisy crowd of people—mostly women—parading before the onlookers in all sorts of garments. Some wore hats with feathers; others had pulled gowns over their own. They screamed and laughed and chattered; and the vendors at the stalls looked on crying out: ‘What a miracle!’ ‘The fit is perfect!’ ‘It becomes you, Madame. You are a lady in that garment.’

‘Come on,’ said Lisette, and we were part of the crowd.

Lisette found a brown gaberdine dress—sombre in hue but which somehow set off her beautiful blonde hair. I found a dark purple which was plain, the sort which might have been worn by a shopkeeper’s wife.

Gleefully we made our purchases and no one took any special notice of us as we scuttled away through the streets back to the
hôtel.
We went up to my room and there tried on the dresses and rolled about in mirth as we assured ourselves that in them no one would have the slightest notion where we came from.

We could scarcely wait to set out on the real adventure. Lisette knew exactly where to go. The serving-girl who had told her about the fortune-teller had walked past the place with her only the day before.

On the way we passed the Bastille and I shivered as I always did and wondered how many people were incarcerated there who were innocent of any crime.

I tried to interest Lisette in the subject. She would surely know something about
lettres de cachet,
but she was not interested in anything but the fortune which lay in store for her.

We found the house. It was in a narrow street of tall houses. We mounted the steps and found the heavy door was open. We stepped into a hall. There a concierge sat in a boxlike room with glass panes through which he could see who came in.

‘Up the stairs,’ he said.

We went up. It was different from what I had expected. There was a carpet on the stairs of a rich red and a certain air of brash luxury about the place.

A girl in a low-cut blue dress came out of a room at the top of the first flight of stairs. She studied us very closely and smiled.

‘I know,’ she said. ‘You have come to have your fortunes told.’

‘Yes,’ said Lisette.

‘Come this way.’

She took us into a little room and told us to sit down, which we did. Lisette giggled. I think now she was a little nervous. I certainly was and I had a feeling that we were being watched and began to wonder whether we had been unwise to come. I remembered that stroll we had taken and the young men who had come along and seized us and I started to wonder what would have happened if that crowd of people had not come along precisely at the right moment.

I looked at Lisette. Her eyes were brilliant, as they always were when she was excited.

‘Why are we waiting here?’ I whispered.

‘Perhaps Madame Rougemont has another client.’

The girl who had shown us in appeared.

‘Madame Rougemont will see you now,’ she said.

We rose and the girl signed to us to follow her. We did so and were ushered into a room with a large window looking down on the street.

Madame Rougemont’s face was painted and patched to such an extent that it was difficult to know how much of what we saw was really her. She wore a red velvet gown the colour of her curtains, her hair was most elaborately dressed and I guessed that a great deal of it was not hers either. Her plump hands were loaded with rings; she looked rich and vulgar and she frightened me. If I had been alone I should have been tempted to turn and run out of the house.

‘Ah my dears,’ she said, smiling falsely at us, ‘so you want to look into the future?’

Lisette said: ‘Yes, that is so.’

‘Why else should you come to Madame Rougemont, eh? Well, sit down.’

She peered at us. ‘Two very pretty young ladies. There is nothing I like better than finding a happy future for pretty ladies. Have you the money for the sitting?’

Lisette reached into her pocket and found it.

Madame Rougemont took it and put it into a little drawer. She looked intently at Lisette, and then at me.

‘Come and sit at this table, dears. I’ll tell you together, shall I? First one … then the other … unless of course there are secrets. Those I shall tell you when we are alone … if that is necessary. But first let me see if they are there. You are very young, aren’t you? Tell me your ages, my dears. It helps a little.’

Lisette said she was seventeen. I exaggerated a little and said I was sixteen.

‘And you live here … in Paris?’

‘Some of the time,’ I told her.

‘Not always. You are with one of the rich families, eh?’

‘Yes,’ I said quickly. ‘Yes.’

‘I thought so. Give me your hands.’

She took mine first. ‘A pretty little hand,’ she said. ‘So white and clean. How do you manage to keep them so white … a lady’s hands. That’s what they are.’

Her fingers gripped my hand tightly and the look of speculation in her eyes alarmed me. I knew we shouldn’t have come. I glanced at Lisette. She was still enjoying the adventure.

Now Madame Rougemont had taken one of her hands so that she held us both.

‘Another pretty little hand,’ she said. ‘Oh, I see great things here. Rich husbands for you both …. Long journeys and excitement … plenty of it. You are going to be so happy.’