Lament for a lost lover

I was silent, for what she said was true. I knew that Lady Eversleigh would not want her and my mother was suspicious of her. Lucas adored her and so did the children, but how much weight would they carry?

I was horrified by her plight and I said firmly: “No matter what the Eversleighs say, you shall come with me, Harriet. You have done them no harm. Edwin was quite fond of you. They would be a little shocked by Leigh if they were to discover the truth. Ladies are not expected to have children unless they are married. Some servant girls do, and my mother was always kind when they did.”

“Perhaps I shall be treated with the same leniency as a servant girl,” she said with a laugh.

Then for some reason we were both laughing.

She came to the bed and implanted a light kiss on my brow. “Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I shall be able to look after myself when the time comes, never fear.” Then she went out and left me. She was right. I could feel confident that she would look after herself. And in my heart I believed that she would come with me. I could not imagine life without Harriet.

News came filtering in at speed.

The City of London and the Fleet declared for Charles.

This meant that as soon as the King was ready to sail, he might safely do so.

His statue had been set up in the Guildhall and the Commonwealth’s arms had been reduced. That was not all. News immediately followed this that Charles had solemnly been proclaimed King in London and Westminster. There was to be a day of thanksgiving because the Commonwealth was ended and there was once more to be a king on the throne. Then the greatest news of all. A committee of six lords and twelve commoners had arrived at The Hague with an invitation to the King. He was asked to return to his kingdom. His birthday by good fortune fell on the twenty-ninth of the month, and it seemed fitting that on that day he should make his triumphant entry into London. So at last it had come. Our return was imminent.

It seemed as though friends emerged from all over France. They were making their way to the coast for the great day, and there were constant visitors at the chateau. The servants had always liked visitors but now they were saddened. They knew that soon we should be going. Sometimes I thought Madame Lambard might attempt to kidnap the babies and hide them away to prevent our taking them. The melancholy in the castle was an odd contrast to the high spirits of our visitors, but it was rather touching and very complimentary. We were sad too, for now that the promised land was in sight, we could spare a thought for those whom we should have to leave behind. “We shall be back to see you, Madame Lambard,” I said. “And you must come to see us. I shall bring Edwin over to show you.”

She smiled at me and rather sadly shook her head.

There was always a great deal to do because of the constant stream of people who came-some staying for a day, others at night and a few much longer. One of the latter was Sir James Gilley, a rather dashing gentleman in his late forties, I imagined-quite a dandy who admitted he had suffered a great deal from exile. He was a friend of the King and he used to say to us, “Charlie will change all that when he gets back,” and, “Charlie would appreciate you ladies.” I remarked to Harriet that he was on very familiar terms with His Majesty.

Harriet loved to listen to his tales of the Court, and although it had for the last years been a poor sort of Court, a travelling one looking for hospitality where it could find it, still the King was at the head of it; and as Sir James told us, “When he is back, Charlie is going to make up for all that.” He had already confided to Sir Tames that, once back, he had made up his mind never to go wandering again. May seemed a lovelier month than ever that year. I was sure there were more flowers than usual. The buttercups and dandelions made a sheen of gold in the fields and the slender bluebells a lovely mist in the woods. I used to awake early and get out of bed to make sure that the babies were happy. Then I would take Edwin back to my bed and lie there talking to him while I listened to the gay, abandoned singing of the birds.

Harriet seemed a little aloof. I guessed she was getting more and more anxious. There was such change in the air and she was thinking of her future. No matter. I was going to take her with me. I was sure I could persuade Matilda Eversleigh that she was my friend and as such I wanted her to live with me. Lucas was a little apprehensive. He was too old to be able to accept our return as the panacea of all our troubles. He had been too long at Chateau Congreve to be able to leave it blithely. Also he was wondering about Harriet, for he accepted the fact that I must go with my new family and it seemed likely that Harriet would come with me while he, of course, would go to our parents’ home.