Lament for a lost lover

“On the contrary, I have the greatest regard for it. But there are occasions when it is necessary to set it aside ... for Lady Eversleigh’s sake.”

“And not your own?”

My dear Arabella, you know me well enough to understand that I am outside convention.

I only submit to it out of regard for those who hold it dear. So I will tell my little tale to Lady Eversleigh and you will not contradict me because to do so would make her most unhappy.” Lady Eversleigh came. She was entranced by her grandson. She held him in her arms and wept over him. He was very intrigued by her tears and crowed with delight. I am sure he thought they were some special game contrived for his pleasure. It was touching to see her.

“Such tragedy, dear Arabella’ she told me. “First Charlotte. Poor girl, she suffered.

And then this terrible thing. Oh, how glad I am that you married before he went.

Now we have our compensation, have we not?”

She made it clear that she found young Edwin immensely superior to any other child.

“The news is excellent,” she said. “Very soon, dear Arabella, we shall be in England. Lord Eversleigh tells me that General Monck has been in touch with the King’s most loyal supporters and that negotiations are already going ahead. What a happy day that will be when we may return to our country and build up our homes again. You and I will carry our great sorrow with us. But when we go, you will come to Eversleigh Court. We must try to subdue our sorrow, for we have our little Edwin now. We shall make such plans for his future. He will be my life from now on.” I had not thought of going to Eversleigh Court, but I could see that it would be expected of me.

I said: “What of Carleton Eversleigh? He must have looked upon himself as the heir when Edwin died.”

“So he was ... until our little one came. Carleton will be delighted. He was wonderful to Edwin when he was a boy. He used to alarm me a little. He was so rough with him, but my husband said it was good for the boy. Dear Edwin had rather a gentle nature.

Though he was full of fun, he was not like Carleton. Carleton forced him to fence and box and ride. He tried to make him like himself.” She shook her head. “Darling Edwin, he was so good-natured. He did his best. I daresay Carleton will want to take on this little Edwin.”

“I will not have him at risk.”

“Indeed, that shall never be. He is the most precious of children.” We talked at length of him. How he smiled; how he so rarely cried; how he was so much brighter than all other children. We became close through our love for the child. To my surprise she accepted our story about Harriet. She was not really interested. She disliked her because of what had happened with Charlotte. I wondered what she would have said had she know that Charlotte had come near to taking her own life. She showed very little interest in young Leigh at first, but he had such winning ways with him, that she could not but be charmed. She made it clear, though, that she had no desire for friendship with Harriet.

After she had left I had had letters from my parents who were now in Breda. It was April. The babies were three months old and my parents were certain that departure for England was imminent. There were letters full of what was happening in the King’s entourage. Negotiations were in progress. Envoys were going between Breda and London. Sir John Grenville had taken a letter from Charles to General Monck and the General had openly declared that he had ever been faithful to the King and that it was only now that he was in a position to be of service to him.

My mother wrote that there had been some, like our own dear General Tolworthy, who had shared the King’s exile with him and given up all for his sake, but no matter. This was great news. ‘The King has been asked to return,” she wrote, “and he has sent back his terms to Monck. It cannot now be long.”

I read my mother’s letter as we sat at the table. Lucas said we ought to start making our preparations, for we should be leaving. The children were excited at the prospect of change, but the servants were flatteringly subdued, and as for Madame Lambard, she demanded to know what she was going to do, having brought two darling children into the world and to have them snatched away from her.

“It is not yet arranged, Madame Lambard,” I soothed her. “So many times there has been talk like this and nothing came of it.”

The babies slept in a room next to mine. If they cried in the night I wanted to know. I would go and comfort them. Sometimes it was Leigh who needed to be picked up. Harriet never heard them, she said.

I scolded her. “You’re an unnatural mother,” I told her.