Lament for a lost lover

I have told your father about her and he thinks it would be a good idea if she joined us here. After all, if we shall soon be back in England, the children will not be so very old and they can resume their education in earnest then. We have heard of an excellent tutor ...

The letter dropped from my hand. I knew her well. She did not want Harriet to stay here with us.

I said nothing to Harriet for a day or so. I meant to, but every time I attempted to, I found it difficult. She was clever enough to realize that my mother did not approve of her being here and wanted to get her away.

Of course I should have to write to my mother sooner or later, and one day when she was talking about going back to England, said: “Harriet, I have had a letter from my mother. She would like you to go to her.”

She stared at me. “Go to her!”

The colour had left her face. For the first time I saw Harriet afraid.

“What do you mean?” she said sharply.

“That’s what she says. They need someone there ... to er ... Well, you know, there are all these preparations. You write well ... it might be that in some way ...”

“She wants me to leave here, does she?”

“She did not say that.”

“Oh, but she means it. I won’t go, Arabella. I can’t go.”

“I shall write and tell her that we can’t do without you here. Harriet, don’t be angry. I never intended that you should.”

She was silent for a few moments as though making up her mind. Then she said slowly: “Arabella, there’s something I have to tell you. I’m in the same condition as you are. I am going to have a child.”

“Harriet!”

She looked at me ruefully. “It’s true.”

“How could that have happened?”

She made an effort to treat the matter flippantly. “Oh, in the usual way.”

“But who ...? And when ...?”

“About the same time as you ... perhaps a little earlier.” She started to laugh-a little hysterically, for she was not nearly as calm as she pretended to be. “Who ... who?” I demanded. Then light dawned on me. “Charles Condey.”

She buried her face in her hands.

I said: “Oh, Harriet, how could you! Then you must marry him. You must write to him at once. I wonder where he is?”

She raised her face and looked at me angrily. “I shall never marry Charles Condey.”

“But he is the father of your child.”

“Nothing would induce me to marry him.”

“But what ... ?How ...?”

“You will let me stay here to have the child? You’ll not turn me away?”

“Harriet, as if I would! But it is going to be difficult.”

“It’s a difficult situation.”

“What will everyone say?”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“Such things have happened before.”

“Does anyone know?”

“The Lambard suspects.”

“You haven’t told her?”

“I have told no one but you. They will have to know in due course. Madame Lambard will be overjoyed that her discerning eye did not deceive her.”

“Oh ... Harriet!”

“Don’t look at me like that. I’ve always told you I was not what called a good woman. I was bound to be caught sooner or later.”

“Please don’t talk like that.”

‘How else should I talk? You see now why I can’t go to your Parents.”

“Yes, I see that, Harriet.”

“They’ll want to get me out of here when they know.”

“Of course they won’t. My mother will understand. She, herself ...” I hesitated and thought of my own birth which had been unorthodox. My mother would have to show sympathy for Harriet since I had been the daughter of her sister’s husband and herself. But I knew she would. She had always been kind and helpful to any of the servants who had fallen into trouble.

I went on: “Don’t be afraid, Harriet. We’ll look after you. But I think Charles Condey should know.”

“Please, please don’t make any effort to find him or tell him.”

“I wouldn’t if you didn’t want it.”

“Oh, Arabella, what a wonderful day it was, was for me when we came to Chateau Congreve! I knew there was some special bond between us. You see we are together ... like sisters ... You have a child ... and I am to have one too. In spite of everything, I can’t help feeling excited.”

I took her hand.

“Oh, Harriet,” I said, “we must always help each other.”

After the first shock of the news spread through the household, it ceased to be a nine days’ wonder. It was accepted that Harriet was going to have a baby. I must say she carried the situation off with great aplomb, and somehow it seemed quite a glorious event rather than something to be ashamed about. She had taken a lover whom she had met at Villers Tourron, the servants said to each other. She had decided she did not want to marry him. It was not the first time it had happened to a girl, though in her case she had had the opportunity to marry and had declined.

There always had to be something special about Harriet.

Now the cozy period set in. We were together most of the time. She laughed at our increasing bulk. “The bulging ladies,” she called us. She made a comedy of it. Whatever happened to Harriet must always seem like a play. But I was beginning to be happy again. For hours at a time I would cease to think of Edwin, and only a few weeks before I should not have believed that possible.