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“You are very like her, my dearest, and when I hear you laugh, I feel like a child again and listening to my mother who always seemed to come into the nursery laughing.”
Arletta looked at the portrait for some time and then she said aloud,
“You will have to help me, Mama, because it is going to be very difficult to know what I can do with my life now.”
Then she turned away to begin thinking once again that the first real task must be to find herself a chaperone.
She had a vague idea in her mind that there were Ladies of Quality in London who would present a young girl not only at Court but to the Social world.
She had no idea how one began to find one and instinctively, because she was very sensitive, she shied away from pushing herself forward or saying in so many words that she wanted to be noticed.
She also had the uncomfortable feeling that such a plan would suggest that she had the possibility of marriage in mind.
But was she likely to find a husband here in the country where she had lived for so long and where there never seemed to be any eligible bachelors, or if there were, she had never met them.
‘I don’t want to marry,’ she told herself. ‘I want to live!’
Yet she was aware that in that day and age the two terms were synonymous.
Young women were brought up to get married as quickly as possible after they left the schoolroom.
Nothing else was open to them, the only alternative being to become an old maid, caring for some ill or tiresome parent, as she had done, and then to become a useful aunt to her nephews and nieces.
As she had none, that position was obviously not open to her.
Once again she was back to asking herself the same question.
‘What can I do? What can I do?’
Then, as she asked it, and it seemed as if even the pictures on the walls were saying the same, the door opened and somebody looked in.
Arletta turned round, stared and then gave an exclamation of astonishment.
“Jane! Is it really you?”
The newcomer, who had just put her head round the door, then came into the room.
“I rang the bell, but nobody answered,” she explained. “But I thought perhaps I would find you here.”
Arletta ran towards her and kissed her.
“Dear Jane, this is such a surprise!” she enthused. “I had no idea you were at home.”
“I arrived only this afternoon,” Jane Turner replied, “and, when I heard that your father had died, I came at once to see you.”
“That is very kind of you.”
“I am so sorry,” Jane Turner remarked.
“It was the best thing that could happen,” Arletta replied. “His heart attacks grew more frequent and he was in constant terrible pain from his gout. It was only because he was so exceptionally strong that he survived as long as he did.”
“Papa told me how well you looked after him,” Jane said. “Oh, poor Arletta! It must have been dreadful. I often thought of you.”
“It was rather ghastly,” Arletta admitted, “but I am so thrilled to see you again, Jane. Why have you come home?”
A smile appeared on the rather plain face of the woman she was talking to, which for the moment made her look almost pretty.
Arletta stared at her and then gave a little cry.
“Something has happened – I know it has! Jane, what is it?”
Jane Turner drew in her breath.
“You will hardly believe it, Arletta, but I am to be married!”
“How wonderful!” Arletta exclaimed. “And to whom?”
“You will never guess,” Jane Turner replied. “It is to Simon Sutton!”
For a moment Arletta looked blank.
Then she said,
“You don’t mean – it cannot be – ?”
“Yes, it is. You remember him when he was Papa’s Curate. You know he went out to Jamaica and in eight years he has risen and risen and, because they appreciate him so much out there, he is to become a Bishop!”
“And you are to marry him!” Arletta cried. “Oh, Jane, how really wonderful!”
“I never thought – I never dreamt,” Jane went on, “that he loved me and yet, because he wrote to me almost every week and kept saying how much he missed me, I have, of course, thought about him.”
The colour came into her cheeks and she looked down shyly and Arletta put out her hand.
“Oh, Jane, it’s like a Fairy story. And he has loved you all this time.”
“Ever since he was here in Little Meldon,” Jane replied. “I knew in a way that he was unhappy when he left, but I did not dare to think that it was because of me.”
“But it was,” Arletta insisted.
“Yes. He arrived in England two days ago and told me that now he could afford to be a married man and he wants me to go back with him immediately to Jamaica and to be there when he is consecrated.”
Arletta clasped her hands together.
“It’s the most exciting thing I have ever heard. Oh, Jane, I am so happy for you and I suppose that you have now come home to be married?”
“Of course. Papa has to marry us,” Jane answered, “and, as Simon has something to do in London, he arrives tomorrow evening.”
“Dear Jane, I am so very glad that I shall be able to be at your Wedding.”
“There is no time to ask many other people,” Jane replied, “and, of course, I want you.”
She looked a little shy as she asked,
“Will you be my only bridesmaid?”
“Of course I will, Jane, and I should have been very hurt if you had not asked me.”
“It seems wrong for me to have one when I am so old. Do you realise I shall be twenty-eight in a month’s time?”
“I am sure you are just the right age to be a Bishop’s wife,” Arletta laughed.
As if she could not help it, Jane laughed as well.
Arletta had known Jane ever since she was a child. Because Jane was the Vicar’s daughter, she had not only come to play with Arletta in the Big House, but the Earl had persuaded the Vicar to teach his daughter many of the subjects that were beyond the scope of her Governess.
The Reverend Adolphus Turner was a Classics scholar and Arletta had studied history and literature with him, while the Governess kept to the more mundane subjects.
She was taught music by one teacher and art by another, who both came to their home.
Actually it was Jane, for whom it was planned that she would be a Governess who helped her with a great many other lessons.
Although there was such a difference in their ages, they had become very close friends and, if Arletta loved anyone outside her family, it was Jane.
She was happier now than she could possibly say that Jane was to be married to the man she loved.
It had always seemed to her such a waste that anyone so sweet, kind and understanding could not, because she was not particularly pretty, attract the few local young men who might have been interested in her.
That she was now to be the wife of the Anglican Bishop of Jamaica exceeded all Arletta’s hopes and excitedly she made Jane tell her exactly what had happened and what her plans were for the future.
Then Jane commented,
“It seems strange that everything always happens at once.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I have just been offered what seemed at the time to be a wonderful opportunity and actually I had accepted it.”
“What was it?” Arletta asked.
“You remember Lady Langley, who your mother introduced me to when she wanted somebody to teach her children?”
“Yes, of course, I remember.”
“Well, I had just finished teaching the last one, who is going to school next term,” Jane explained, “when Lady Langley begged me to go to France.”
“To France,” Arletta exclaimed in surprise.
“It’s a very strange story, but Lady Langley’s brother married a French girl, the sis
ter of the Duc de Sauterre. Apparently she died four years ago and, although Lady Langley offered to bring up the two children, the Duc insisted that their place was in France.”
Arletta was listening intently as Jane continued,
“Because she felt rather remiss at never having visited her niece and nephew, Lady Langley went to the Duc’s Château a few weeks ago.”
The way Jane spoke made Arletta ask,
“What happened? What was wrong?”
“Well, quite naturally Lady Langley was horrified,” Jane said, “because, although David, that is her nephew, is down for Eton and will be going there in a year’s time, he cannot speak English!”
“He will have a terrible time, if that is true,” Arletta remarked.
“That is what Lady Langley thinks. The little girl, who is younger, is, of course, in the same position, but in her case it is not so urgent.”
“So you were going there to teach them?” Arletta said.
“That is what Lady Langley had arranged, and I had promised her that I would leave in what is four days from now.”
“Is she very upset that you cannot go?”
“She does not know,” Jane answered. “She arranged everything and then she went off with Lord Langley for a cruise in the Mediterranean. It is impossible for me to get in touch with her and I feel dreadful, I do really, Arletta, at letting her down. Equally I can hardly refuse Simon, can I?”
“No, of course not!” Arletta agreed, “but I feel very sorry for the little boy – ”
She stopped suddenly.
“Jane!” she said in a strange voice.
“What is it?”
“I think I have found a solution both to your problem and to mine.”
Jane just looked at her and after a moment Arletta went on,
“I will go to France in your place! It is what I have always wanted to do and it seems as if Mama has sent you in answer to my prayers!”
Jane stared at her in sheer amazement.
“You cannot do that!”
“Of course I can. Just before you came I had Mr. Metcalfe here and I was worrying myself sick about where I could go and who I could stay with, because Cousin Hugo, whom you will remember, has said that he wants to move in as soon as possible and I am to leave Weir House.”
“Oh, Arletta, I am so sorry,” Jane said. “It’s unkind of him to turn you out of your home, although I suppose you would not really want to stay now.”
“No, of course not,” Arletta nodded. “But then I cannot live alone in the Dower House nor can I think of any relation who would be pleased to have me to stay.”
“I cannot believe that – ” Jane began and was then silent.
She knew all Arletta’s relations and had always thought secretly that they were a pretty depressing lot.
As if Arletta could read her thoughts, she said,
“You are quite right. That is just what I have been thinking and I am sure, Jane, that I could take your place and be you and nobody need ever know.”
“It’s impossible!” Jane cried.
“Why?” Arletta asked. “You said that Lady Langley is away on a cruise. For how long?”
“I think at least a month, perhaps six weeks.”
Arletta smiled.
“Well, there is no need for her to know what has happened until she returns. By that time I shall have seen France, as I have always longed to do. If I am a success, they will keep me. If not I can come back and perhaps move into the Dower House and pay a companion to live with me.”
Jane made a little grimace.
“That sounds really ghastly!”
“I know,” Arletta agreed, “but it would be better than staying with one of my aunts or cousins for you know exactly what they are like.”
Jane rose from the sofa where they were both sitting and walked across the room.
“I am sure that I am not doing the right thing in letting you go to France,” she stated bluntly.
“What do you mean?” Arletta asked.
There was a little pause as Jane was obviously choosing her words rather carefully.
Then after a moment she responded,
“Lady Langley told me that the Duc was a very fierce and rather terrifying person. Actually I am not worried about him so much as the other Frenchmen you will meet for, Arletta, you are very very pretty!”
Arletta laughed.
“Now I know what you are thinking about, but it is very unlikely that any Frenchman, who I have always been told are excessively proud and give themselves great airs, would take notice of a mere Governess.”
Jane, knowing how innocent Arletta was, wondered how she could put into words what the Frenchmen were likely to think about a Governess who was quite as pretty as her dear friend.
Then she remembered that Lady Langley had been almost apologetic in asking her to undertake the education of her nephew and niece because the Duc’s Château was in such an isolated part of the Dordogne.
There were, she had said, no companions for Pauline and David because, as far as she could ascertain, there were very few neighbours in the vicinity of the Château.
“The Duc spends most of his time in Paris, which is a good thing, because as far as I can make out, he terrifies the whole staff of the Château, which is a splendid example of French architecture and is kept up in a magnificent almost Royal manner.”
She paused and knew that Arletta was listening intently before she continued.
“Lady Langley went on to say, ‘I am afraid, dear Miss Turner, you will find it very dull, but I am so distressed that my nephew will suffer at Eton simply because the Duc has a most unfair prejudice against the English!’
“‘He has?’ I asked her in surprise.’
“‘He was very angry when my brother, Richard, married his sister and so were his father and mother. But they fell in love and to all intents and purposes eloped together. When it was too late for her parents to do anything about it, they went back and said that they were sorry to have upset them and they were forgiven. But according to reports the present Duc never forgave his sister. Not even when Richard died and was followed a few years later by her.’
“‘It sounds like a novelette, I commented.’
“‘I suppose it does really,’ Lady Langley said apologetically, ‘but the children are going to suffer and that is something I cannot allow.’
‘“So you have persuaded the Duc to employ an English Governess? I answered.’
“‘I can assure you that he is very reluctant to do so and says he has no wish to have an Englishwoman inside his house,’ Lady Langley replied.’
“‘But you managed to persuade him!’
“‘With great difficulty and I am afraid, Miss Turner, in consequence, you will not have a very warm welcome. But will you please, and I do beg of you, almost on my knees, do this for my sake?’
“I could hear the beseeching note in the voice of the employer who had been exceedingly kind to me in the six years I had taught her children, so you can understand that after that, I could hardly say no.”
“Of course you could not,” Arletta agreed, “and it would be terrible to let her down now she is so happy to think that the boy at any rate will be able to speak English.”
She knew that Jane was hesitating and added,
“It’s a question of time as far as he is concerned and, if you refuse to teach him and do not send anyone in your place, the Duc will be more prejudiced against the English than he is already. David will therefore arrive at Eton speaking only French, which will be disastrous!”
“I must say,” Jane said, “although my conscience was pricking me and I was feeling very uncomfortable, I never thought of finding someone to send in my place.”
“If you are now thinking of looking around for another Governess,” Arletta suggested, “you are much mistaken! I intend to go instead of you. Honestly, dearest Jane, it’s the answer I have been waiting for and is like a sign from Heaven that I am not forgotten
.”
Jane gave a tender little laugh.
Then she declared,
“No one could ever forget you, Arletta. You are the nicest person I have ever known and you know that Papa and I and everybody else in the village love you.”
“Thank you. If you love me, then let me do what I want to do and that is to go to France.”
She gave a cry and then went on,
“Just before you arrived I was looking at Mama’s portrait for signs of her French blood.”
“I cannot imagine anybody could look more English than your mother,” Jane remarked, glancing up at the portrait.
“That is where you are wrong for she was Norman. My grandmother came from Normandy and Mama told me that all her relatives had blue eyes and fair hair.”
Jane did not speak for a moment and then she suggested,
“Perhaps it would please the Duc to know that you had French blood in your veins. On the other hand it might make him feel that you are not such a good teacher of English as you might otherwise be.”
Arletta laughed.
“Now you are trying to frighten me, but I can promise you, Jane, that I am not in the least afraid of the big bad Duc! If he is too ferocious, I can always come home without a reference. To go there will not alter my future life as it would yours.”
Jane put her arm around Arletta’s shoulders before she said,
“If I let you go, Arletta, will you give me your solemn promise, and I mean this very seriously – ”
“What is it?”
“That you will not listen to anything flattering or complimentary that is said to you by any Frenchman.”
“Why should you say that?”
“Frenchmen are different from Englishmen. First of all they are married when they are very young, as I understand the Duc was, obeying the choice of their parents. It is not a question of love but of convenience.”
“Mama told me about this,” Arletta remarked. “It sounds to me a very cold-blooded way of getting married.”
“I am sure it is, but it is something that happens and after that they usually have a great number of love affairs, which, of course, Papa would think very reprehensible.”
Arletta was silent before she answered,
“I don’t think it is peculiar to the French. After all, even here in Little Meldon, I have heard people talking about the love affairs of the Prince of Wales.”