72. The Impetuous Duchess Read online

  There was also a third rider in attendance, whom Jabina learned, was to go ahead and order their meals for luncheon and their accommodation for the night.

  When finally they set off, the Duke, driving with an expertise that she could not help admiring, Jabina felt excitedly that this was the beginning of a great adventure.

  As they moved through Calais, there was quite a lot of traffic in the streets. The average traveller, the Duke told her, had to choose between a carrosse, a coche or a diligence.

  The carrosse was a vehicle like an English stagecoach. The coche was larger and heavier, carrying sixteen passengers, twelve in the body of the coach and two on the side of it by the door.

  Both, Jabina noticed, carried a great deal more baggage than an English or a Scottish stagecoach.

  The coche was equipped with two large wicker baskets, one at the front and one at the back, which were overflowing with trunks and bags, boxes and cages and, even in some instances, with additional passengers,

  Having passed two of these vehicles, Jabina said in a rather shocked voice,

  “Surely they are pulled by very small horses and very overloaded?”

  “Lord Nelson called them ‘rats of horses’,” the Duke answered. “You will find that the French for all their charming manners are often very cruel to animals.”

  On the way out of Calais they passed a diligence, a big public coach whose horses, Jabina learned, were changed every twelve miles as they went at a gallop.

  The diligence could carry up to thirty passengers all facing the front and could cover as many as a hundred miles a day.

  “You can be grateful,” the Duke said, “that we are not travelling by diligence. They are always very crowded, badly sprung and they have a habit of starting off in the small hours of the morning!”

  “Again I think they overload the horses,” Jabina repeated severely.

  “I agree with you,” the Duke answered, “but there is nothing we can do about it.”

  Once out of the town the Duke had a choice of two roads by which to cover the hundred and eighty three miles to Paris.

  The carrosse route, which was the worst, went through Abbeville, Beauvais and Beaumont.

  “Most of the inns on that road are atrocious!” the Duke told her.

  He took the post route, which went through Amiens, Clermont and Chantilly and the first inn they stayed at was pleasant and the food, if not exotic, was palatable.

  The innkeepers both at lunch and supper, Jabina found, were courteous and well-mannered and she found everything en route an enchantment.

  There were none of the villian sansculottes of Gilray’s cartoons to be seen, but friendly faces and on the whole well-dressed citizens.

  The women in the market places in their red camlet jackets and high aprons, with long flying lappets to their caps and wooden sabots, were entrancing. Sabina loved the markets themselves with their gay painted eggs and mounds of butter and the long crisp rolls of new baked bread on the stalls and the tang of garlic in the air.

  At the inn where they slept, they enjoyed what the Duke said was a typical French dinner. There was soup served by the landlord and a fish course.

  Afterwards there was duck with cucumber, tongue with tomato sauce and fricandeau of veal.

  When these dishes were removed, there were sweetmeats, puddings, stewed and fresh fruit and cakes.

  What Jabina did notice with surprise was that, once they were out of the towns and driving through the open country, they hardly ever saw a man.

  Instead there were blackened and sunburnt women with bare heads or their hair covered with handkerchiefs working in the fields.

  “Napoleon has not relaxed his recruitment of the Army!” the Duke explained.

  “But we have!”

  “Yes, indeed, we have disbanded whole Regiments, halved the number of men in the Navy and laid up a number of ships. It’s crazy!”

  “Crazy?” Jabina questioned. “You don’t think that we will go to war again? I thought it was over!”

  “They were saying in Calais that things are very tense in diplomatic circles,” the Duke answered, “but we shall learn more when we reach Paris.”

  “There were so many men killed before the Armistice,” Jabina said in a low voice. “I cannot believe that Napoleon Bonaparte wants to fight England.”

  “If he could conquer us, he would!” the Duke said. “Make no mistake about that. The difficulty as far as he is concerned is that he must cross the Channel to do it!”

  “But if we went to war again,” Jabina said in a low voice, “I should be living in an enemy country.”

  “As your aunt has done these last years,” the Duke replied.

  “But she is married to a Frenchman. She therefore takes his nationality.”

  This was unanswerable and they drove on in silence.

  With her usual buoyancy Jabina thought that the Duke was unduly anxious.

  After all, everyone had said when the Armistice came that war between their two countries was finished for all time.

  At Amiens and again at Chantilly the Duke found that there were people already predicting that England and France would be at each other’s throats again in a month’s time.

  It seemed impossible in the May sunshine with the spring flowers all along the roadsides, the trees in bloom and the warmth of the sun making them discard their heavy coats, to imagine the horrors of war.

  Dangers, like the snow, seemed to have been left behind and, when they reached Chantilly on the 16th of May Jabina was trying to persuade the Duke to stay several days in Paris before they set out for the South.

  “I have always been told that it is such a gay city. Please – please let me see a little of it before we go any further,” she pleaded.

  The Duke had not allowed her to visit any of the castles or the Churches on the post route, saying that he was in a hurry to reach Paris as soon as possible.

  She had the feeling that it was rather because he was worried about the political situation than that he wished to be rid of her.

  Because she was so interested, they had, while they were in Chantilly visited the famous gardens of the Prince de Condé. The canals, waterfalls and fountains had been laid waste after the Revolution, but now restoration had been put in hand.

  There were aviaries of exotic birds almost hidden in the groves and Jabina was enthralled by everything she saw.

  When they reached St. Denis, she persuaded the Duke to show her the Benedictine Abbey where the French Crown Jewels were kept.

  She was disappointed with Charlemagne’s golden crown, which to her did not seem grand enough, but his diamond-encrusted sword and ivory chessmen lived up to her expectations.

  There was also a nail from the cross of Christ, a crucifix made of the true wood of the cross carved by Pope Gregory III, a box in which was some of the Virgin’s hair and one of the thorns which the monks said had been in the crown worn by Jesus at his crucifixion.

  “Fancy their having been kept safely all down the centuries!” Jabina exclaimed breathlessly to the Duke.

  He did not attempt to disillusion her in words, but she knew by the twist of his lips that he did not really believe that such relics were authentic.

  Their entrance into Paris was beset with formalities and hindrances.

  There were iron gates and a barrier stretching across the road and, once they had passed these, the Customs Officers in the Bureau de Roi examined every part of the post chaise as well as Jabina’s and the Duke’s baggage for forbidden articles.

  While the searching was going on, they were besieged by elegantly dressed young men who pleaded in broken English to be employed as valets.

  They thrust into the cabriolet references written in English by their previous employers.

  The Duke waved them away with an authority that they somewhat reluctantly obeyed.

  “Where are we staying?” Jabina asked, as they set off again.

  The Customs Officers had to their di
sappointment found nothing that was contraband.

  “The best hotels are in the Faubourg St. Germain, but I have sent our Courier ahead to see if he can take us furnished rooms that are far more comfortable. It is the way I have always stayed when I have been in Paris and I am sure that he will find us a place in the same locality.”

  Sure enough the Duke was not to be disappointed.

  The rooms, which covered the first and second floor of a large mansion that had once been owned by an aristocrat, were in Jabina’s opinion extremely luxurious.

  She was cheered by the thought that, as the Duke had taken private rooms rather than stay at an hotel, it must mean that he intended to give in to her pleadings to stay for a few days, perhaps even a week in Paris.

  She had already seen as she entered the Capital a number of open-air dancing places and, as they drove along the roads, she could hear the sound of the violin, clarinet and tambourine.

  “They dance like maniacs in Paris, m’mselle,” one of the chambermaids had told her at Chantilly. “It is dance, dance day and night! It’s all Parisiennes think about!”

  The woman had spoken scornfully because she was getting on in years, but to Jabina it was an excitement she had not expected.

  Now she was wondering how she could persuade the Duke to take her dancing, but somehow she could not imagine him finding a plebeian dancehall amusing.

  They had hardly been in their rooms an hour when to Jabina’s astonishment tradesmen came knocking on the door.

  The valet whom the Duke had engaged with the apartment and the maid who was to look after Jabina spent their time answering them.

  Tailors, perruquiers, hatters, shoemakers, seamstresses, gown makers, jewellers, every type of salesman concerned with clothes for gentlemen and ladies called in quick succession.

  Jabina thought that the Duke might turn them away without even listening to what they had to say.

  Then, as she looked pleadingly at him, he realised as if for the first time how unfashionable her clothes were.

  He really had not concerned himself with what Jabina was wearing.

  Now he realised that she could have carried very little in the small trunk that was all she had brought with her when she escaped from her father’s house.

  It seemed to the Duke, as he thought about it, that she had in fact worn the same gown day after day and the same evening gown every night.

  When lengths of silk and muslin, gauze and lace were rolled out for his inspection, he understood how much they meant to a woman – any woman and perhaps especially to Jabina.

  He picked out a couturier and said firmly,

  “I want six fashionable gowns for m’mselle. One must be ready for her to wear tonight. Another for tomorrow morning.”

  Jabina gave a little cry of sheer delight.

  “Do you mean it? Do you really mean it?” she asked.

  Then, as a sudden thought struck her, she drew him a little to one side where the people flowing into the salon could not hear her.

  “I-I must not spend too much!” she said in a low voice. “I don’t know yet how much my mother’s jewellery will fetch when I sell it.”

  “What I have ordered for you is a present, Jabina,” the Duke replied.

  The light in her eyes was almost dazzling.

  “Thank you! Thank you a thousand, million times!” she cried. “May I choose anything I like?”

  “These people will have sketches with them,” he said, “and perhaps even a model. I do not wish to question your taste, Jabina, but I would like to choose them with you.”

  “Yes, yes of course!” she agreed.

  She hurried into her bedchamber followed by the Parisiennes carrying their goods, talking volubly and advising her which were the most alluring styles.

  It seemed incredible to Jabina, but by the evening her gown was ready.

  She had a suspicion that much of it must have been made before her arrival, but nevertheless it fitted her perfectly and for the first time in her life she realised that she had an attractive figure.

  The full-skirted gowns with their muslin fichus she had worn in Scotland were decidedly out of date.

  Josephine Bonaparte, wife of the First Consul, had introduced a style to Paris that had, Jabina learnt, been accepted by those in the fashion world.

  The gowns, falling straight from a high waist were almost transparent, revealing the curve of the hips and accentuating the breasts.

  The neckline was cut very low and the tiny little puffed sleeves over the shoulders were often ornamented with diamanté and trimmed with lace.

  Jabina’s gown was of white gauze with a fine thread of silver woven into it that glittered and shone when she moved. Silken ribbons crossed over the bodice and were tied at the back. Slippers to match the gown were of silver.

  A coiffeuse arranged her red hair in what was almost a Grecian style with ringlets falling from the back.

  When she stared at herself in the mirror, she could hardly believe that she was really seeing the reflection of Jabina Kilcarthie and not some glamorous alluring stranger.

  The Duke had promised to take her out to dinner and she wondered what he would say when he saw her.

  She was a little afraid that he might be shocked that her figure was so openly revealed and yet not for all the disapproval in the world would she have asked for another thickness to be added to the gown.

  When her maid had at last finished dressing her, Jabina put on her mother’s diamond necklace and clasped a matching diamond bracelet round her wrist.

  “Your velvet wrap is ready for you, m’mselle,” the maid said.

  “I will not put it on for the moment,” Jabina answered. “I want to show my brother my new dress. Is he in the salon?”

  “His Grace has just left his bedchamber, m’mselle. He is helping himself to a glass of wine,” the maid reported, having peeped through a crack in the door.

  Jabina took a last look at herself in the mirror.

  “Open the door for me, Yvette,” she ordered and walked forward.

  Jabina entered the salon and stood for a moment in the doorway waiting for the Duke to notice her.

  When he turned from the side-table, she let out an exclamation o£ sheer astonishment.

  “Oh! – ”

  For a moment she could hardly believe her eyes! It was undoubtedly the Duke, but changed almost out of recognition.

  Gone was the dreary black suit, the low neatly tied cravat and the unfashionable hair style.

  Instead a buck – a dandy – a Petit Mâitre stood in front of her! His high cravat meticulously tied and the points of his collar above the line of his chin. His dark blue satin coat accentuated his broad shoulders and the tight champagne-coloured pantaloons revealed the narrowness of his hips.

  A fob hung from his waistcoat, the buttons of which glittered dazzlingly.

  “Do you approve?” the Duke asked with a faint smile as Jabina after the first exclamation seemed to have become speechless.

  “You look – wonderful!” she exclaimed. “I never thought you could look like that! It’s fantastic!”

  The Duke laughed.

  “I am flattered,” he said. “And now let me tell you, although perhaps not so eloquently, that you too look very different!”

  “You approve?”

  “Decidedly so! I should have told you that French couturiers are magicians.”

  “Of course they are!” Jabina agreed her eyes dancing, “and we both look supremely elegant and not in the least like the cartoons of English tourists.”

  “I don’t believe we can hide our nationality as easily as that!” the Duke laughed, “but there is no doubt that you look very much a Lady of Fashion!”

  “And you are exactly as I wanted you to be!” Jabina enthused.

  The Duke’s eyes met hers as if inquiringly. Then before they could say any more a servant opened the door and announced,

  “Le Vicomte Armand d’Envier!”

  As his nam
e rang out, a thin dark Frenchman came into the room and the Duke gave a loud exclamation of delight.

  “Armand!” he exclaimed. “I was hoping that you would be in Paris.”

  “It was just by chance I heard that you had arrived, my dear Drue,” the Vicomte replied.

  The two men shook hands and then, as the Vicomte glanced towards Jabina, the Duke said,

  “I am accompanied by my sister. Let me introduce you. Jabina, this is a very old friend of mine le Vicomte d’Envier – my sister, Lady Jabina Minster.”

  The Vicomte bowed politely.

  “Enchanté, m’mselle! I hope that I may have the pleasure of showing you Paris if this is your first visit?”

  “It is indeed,” Jabina answered.

  “Then you must both dine with me now – tonight!” the Vicomte said. “I hope you have no other engagements, Drue, for now that I have found that you have your sister with you, I must tell you that I had every intention of taking you, whether you like it or not, to a ball that my aunt is giving for one of my cousins. You must both come with me. It will be a very amusing evening. Lady Jabina will shine like a meteor among our demoiselles Parisiennes.”

  “I am not certain if we can manage tonight – ” the Duke began, only to be interrupted by Jabina who laid her hand on his arm.

  “Please – please let’s go,” she begged.

  There was no doubt that she was longing to be present at the ball and the Duke yielded to her request.

  “Very well, Armand,” he said. “Anyway I am sure that if I refuse, you will pay no attention. You always have dragged me from one place of amusement to another.”

  “Tonight I need be concerned not only with your entertainment,” the Vicomte said. “There is your sister, who must realise that even under the heel of a coarse Corsican, Paris can still be a city of enchantment.”

  The Duke laughed.

  “Still the Royalist! Still fighting the regime, Armand? Still intent upon overthrowing the little Corporal?”

  “Our time will come!” the Vicomte said ominously. “We are making our plans, Drue, to rid ourselves of this upstart, who has set himself up not only as a conqueror and Ruler of France but also as an arbiter of fashion!”