The date of Hélène’s marriage with Simon Barnier was set for the beginning of February. Gradually, over the weeks that followed Simon’s initial proposal, she had been worn down in her refusal by both her parents and Simon himself.
Her mother had been gentle in her persuasion. ‘I know you say you don’t love him, but you don’t dislike him either. I know he’s not Rupert, but no one is going to be, are they? You have to set aside any feelings you still have for him and look forward to the rest of your life. You’ll have your own establishment in the Gavrineau Garden House, your own staff. And, sometime in the future, you’ll move into Gavrineau itself as one of the most important hostesses in the area. Simon loves you and wants you as his wife, but if you turn him down you may lose him completely; a man won’t wait for ever for a capricious bride. Think before you throw all this away, chérie.’
Her father was altogether more forthright. ‘If you’re still languishing for that Rupert Chalfont, it is time you faced facts. He is no gentleman but a dishonourable man who doesn’t stand by his given word. The sooner you get him out of your head the better it will be. Simon Barnier is first and foremost a man of honour and he expects everyone else to have the same standards.’
‘You thought that of Rupert once, Papa,’ Hélène said hesitantly.
‘Maybe I did, but I was entirely wrong, wasn’t I?’ Emile retorted. ‘He had us fooled. I should have suspected he was after your money all along. He admitted he knew that you came into your grandmother’s money on your marriage, but he assured us he would not touch a penny of what would be yours. And we believed him! We hardly knew the man and yet we believed him and allowed him to court you. We were wrong. We should never have allowed such a thing. As soon as he discovered he’d become his father’s heir, he no longer needed any money of yours and he was off back to England without a backward glance. I blame myself, Hélène, and I’m not going to make the same mistake twice.’
‘Simon might be after my money as well,’ Hélène pointed out.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, child,’ snapped her father. ‘We’ve known the family ever since they came to St Etienne. We all move in the same circles and have the same standards of behaviour. You will be marrying into your own kind, which is the best kind of marriage.’
‘But I don’t love him,’ Hélène said flatly.
‘My dear child’ – there was a pitying note in Emile’s voice – ‘what has that to say to anything? Simon Barnier is an excellent match and should you turn him down, I wash my hands of you.’
Simon himself was far more subtle. ‘I’ll give you all the time you need,’ he promised. ‘After all, that gives me time to teach you to love me.’
When Hélène told Annette that she had finally given in and agreed to marry Simon, she said, ‘But you will come with me to Gavrineau, won’t you? I couldn’t go without you.’
There was only a fractional hesitation before Annette smiled at her and said, ‘Of course I will.’
‘You’ll still be able to see Pierre,’ Hélène said. ‘I promise you that.’
‘Pierre?’ Annette gave a wry smile. ‘I doubt if he’ll mind one way or the other.’
‘I think he will,’ asserted Hélène. ‘I’ve seen the way he looks at you.’
Annette smiled again. ‘We’ll have to wait and see,’ she said. She was very worried about Hélène’s forthcoming marriage. She had never liked Simon Barnier, especially since he had tried to use her as a spy. She had seen the way Simon looked at Hélène and it was not the way Rupert had looked at her, nor, if she were honest, the way Pierre looked at her. She was loath to move from Belair to Gavrineau, but she was not about to let Hélène go there without her.
‘I have to go with her,’ she confided to Pierre when she had slipped out to the stables one evening to sit and talk, cosy in the lamplight. ‘I can’t leave her alone with that man. I simply don’t trust him, not after he paid me to spy.’
‘Of course you must go,’ Pierre agreed reluctantly. He didn’t want her to leave; he would miss her more than he’d thought possible. ‘You could stay with her to begin with, but if everything is all right when she’s settled in, you could come back and marry me!’
Annette stared at him, stunned. ‘What did you say?’ she whispered, unbelieving.
He grinned at her and said, ‘You heard.’
‘You want to marry me?’ She shook her head. ‘But you don’t know anything about me.’
‘I know all I need to know,’ Pierre assured her.
‘No, you don’t,’ Annette said softly, ‘and you can’t even think about marrying me until you do.’
‘Go on, then,’ said Pierre. ‘Tell me.’
Annette drew a deep breath and got to her feet. Pacing the stable floor, she told him the truth about Father Thomas, the baby and her disgrace. When she had finished Pierre reached for her hand, making her pause in her pacing.
‘Do you think that makes any difference to how I feel about you?’ His eyes were fixed on hers and she looked away.
‘I don’t know,’ she murmured, ‘do I?’
‘Well, it doesn’t,’ stated Pierre. ‘Annette, I don’t care about your life before you came here. I love you and I want you to marry me. Will you?’
‘I can’t,’ whispered Annette. ‘I have to go with Hélène.’
‘I quite see that,’ responded Pierre, ‘but when the time comes that you’re happy to leave her, I shall be waiting for you.’ He got to his feet and gently drew her into his arms, and for a moment the feel of his body against the length of her own made her stiffen. Very gently he kissed the top of her head and said, ‘It’s all right, Annette, I’m not Father Thomas.’ After a moment he felt her relax again, and looking down into her face, he said, ‘I love you, Annette Dubois.’
‘My name’s not Annette Dubois,’ she said. ‘Just Annette. I have never had a surname.’
‘Well, it won’t be long before you have mine,’ said Pierre, and he shared with her her first truly loving kiss.
*
Once Hélène had finally given in and accepted Simon as her future husband, all seemed to be well. The only stand she had to make, with the firm backing of her mother, was that Annette would move with her as her personal maid. Simon had vetoed this to start with, but Rosalie had said, ‘She needs a maid of her own.’ At which Simon had said, ‘And of course she may have one, but it will be a new household and I think it better that we start with entirely new staff.’
Rosalie appeared to relent. ‘I understand that,’ she said, ‘but marriage is a completely new way of life for a young girl and it would be comforting to have someone with whom she is at ease to look after her.’
Simon had given in, but with bad grace, saying, ‘Well, if you really think it’s that important, then of course she may bring her maid with her. I only want what will make Hélène happy.’
So, Rosalie was able to tell Annette that she would be moving to Gavrineau with Hélène. ‘I am sure you’ll want to move with her as her personal maid, Annette; she’ll feel less strange if she still has someone familiar living with her.’
‘I’m very happy to go with her, madame,’ Annette replied, and she truly meant it. She considered writing to Rupert and telling him what was happening, but when she consulted Pierre about the idea, he discouraged her.
‘There’s no point, my love,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing he can do. It’s too late. He’s married.’
Even so, Annette continued to think about Rupert. She was angry with him and he deserved to know that it was he who had caused Hélène to accept Simon Barnier’s proposal.
A few nights before the actual wedding, Simon cornered Annette in the corridor when he was visiting Hélène at Belair.
‘I hear you’re coming with Miss Hélène when she moves to Gavrineau,’ he said.
Annette lowered her eyes and murmured, ‘Yes, monsieur.’
‘Well, let me warn you, you’re there for the time being on sufferance. Just make sure you do nothing to jeopardise your position.’ He put his hand under her chin and tilted her head towards him. ‘Understand?’
‘Yes, monsieur,’ she whispered.
‘Well, I hope you do.’ He let her go and strode across the hall into the drawing room, where Hélène and her mother were waiting for him.
It was this encounter that convinced Annette as to what she should do, and that evening she set pen to paper and wrote to Mr Rupert Chalfont at Pilgrim’s Oak.
*
The wedding day drew nearer and Rosalie knew that she must have a very serious talk with Hélène before the big day. It was only six months since Hélène had begun her monthly courses and Rosalie had had to explain to her when Hélène, terrified, had come to her, fearing that she had some dreadful internal disease. ‘It happens to all women,’ Rosalie had said. ‘It means that you are ready for marriage, that you are old enough to bear children. This is one of the most important days of your life.’
She knew that she should have explained before, so that Hélène would not have been frightened, but she had continued to put off the explanation for fear of reviving memories of what had happened to her during the siege. Now she must risk that, so that Hélène would be ready for the bedchamber on her wedding night. She could only hope that Simon would be a careful and gentle lover. She could procrastinate no longer and summoned Hélène into her parlour.
‘Shut the door, chérie,’ she said, ‘and come and sit by me.’ Hélène did as she was told and waited.
‘Hélène, you remember I told you when your monthly courses started that you were now ready for marriage.’
‘Yes, I remember.’
‘Well, when a man and a woman are married, they have a very intimate life with each other. Very often they share the same bed and when they are sleeping close to each other they become…’ She paused, looking for the right word. ‘…entwined.’ She paused again before she went on, ‘It may take you a while to get used to sleeping next to someone like that, but it can be very comforting to fall asleep in a man’s arms.’
For a moment Hélène remembered the feel of Rupert’s arms about her, but she forced it away. That way led to misery. It was Simon’s arms in which she would fall asleep.
‘And after such a night together, you may find you are carrying his child.’ Rosalie had still not explained how this last was achieved, but, she reasoned, very few brides actually knew before their wedding night exactly what was expected of them. It wasn’t customary to go into detail; a new wife learned as she went along, and once she had found herself expecting a baby, as Clarice was now, she accepted that whether she enjoyed the experience or not, that was the way babies were created.
That evening Hélène sat at her dressing table while Annette brushed out her hair, and looking at her maid in the mirror, she wondered about Father Thomas. Annette had said he used to come to her bed at night. That was what her mother had just explained would happen when she and Simon were married. She was very tempted to ask Annette about it, but she knew Annette had hated what had happened, and surely that couldn’t be the same for all women, or there would be no children. So, she asked nothing and relaxed as the strokes of the brush soothed her. She wouldn’t know what to do, but she guessed Simon would, and they would have babies.