Before the Storm (36 page)

‘The Comte?’ Clementine looked shocked and hurt. ‘I thought that he liked me?’

‘He does,’ Sidonie immediately replied, ‘but you must know that the entire family is up to their ears in debt and the Comte was rather hoping that they would all be saved from ruin by Antoine finding himself a rich bride.’

‘And so he has,’ Phoebe interjected a little angrily. ‘Clementine is a great heiress - what could he possibly object to?’

‘She is also married to another man. The scandal should they attempt to be together would be devastating.’ Sidonie reminded her gently. ‘The Comte has forbidden Antoine to see Clementine again on pain of being disinherited.’

Clementine gasped and jumped to her feet. ‘Has he really done so?’ she asked, almost crying. She remembered how much Antoine loved their house in the country and how affectionately he had looked at both his father and sister. How could she separate him from everything that he held most dear? ‘Who has done this to us?’ she asked after a moment, staring down at the crumpled newspaper clipping that she still held in her hand, the black print smeared on her fingers.

Sidonie sighed. ‘I have a suspicion,’ she said. ‘I don’t know for certain though.’

Phoebe stared at her. ‘Who?’ she demanded. ‘I want to know who would do this to all of us.’

‘Minette,’ Sidonie said.

Phoebe and Clementine looked at each in confusion. ‘That grumpy little maid that came with you to Bath?’ Phoebe asked blankly after a moment. ‘I’d almost forgotten about her.’

‘I don’t think that she has forgotten about you,’ Sidonie replied grimly. ‘I recently heard that she had gone to work for Madame d’Evrémond and had gone with her to London when she emigrated a few months ago.’

‘Corisande?’ Clementine looked confused. ‘But why would she want to hurt us all like this?’

Sidonie sighed again. ‘My dear, when will you learn never to underestimate just how spiteful and embittered a spurned woman can be.’

‘Is this because of Eliza?’ Clementine asked, looking around at Phoebe who was very pale but didn’t look the least bit surprised. ‘Because Edmond married her instead?’

‘I’m afraid so,’ Sidonie said gently. ‘I expect that Madame Corisande has been waiting for this for quite some time and probably couldn’t believe her good fortune when Minette and all her secrets fell into her lap.’

‘We should have made more effort to buy her off,’ Phoebe muttered. ‘Who knew that the little wretch had been taking so much in.’ She looked at Sidonie then. ‘What did they mean when they accused you of being a go between for your pupils?’

‘Ah.’ Sidonie went a little pink at the cheekbones. ‘I knew that there would be awkward questions about that.’ She looked steadily at them both then took a deep breath. ‘Minette was wrong,’ she said before raising a warning finger as Clementine gave a sigh of relief. ‘The truth is in fact far worse.’ She looked fondly at her former pupil. ‘I used to think that you must have guessed the truth about me so many times, my dear.’

Clementine stared up at her in surprise then slowly nodded. ‘Jules,’ she whispered.

Phoebe stared at them both open mouthed. ‘Jules?’ she demanded. ‘Venetia’s Jules?’ She burst out laughing before clapping her hands over her mouth. ‘Oh my.’

Sidonie sighed. ‘I know that it must seem preposterous that a young man such as Jules could ever have been attracted to a poor little governess like myself, but there it is.’ She self consciously patted her glowing cheeks. ‘We were lovers for a brief time when I first lived in Paris several years ago. I was teaching his sisters English at the time and it no doubt amused him to seduce me right under his mother’s nose.’ She gave a little smile. ‘I don’t think he ever expected to see me again and so it was an enormous shock to him when we encountered each other in Bath.’

‘You were meeting in secret,’ Phoebe said dully. ‘All that time.’

Sidonie shook her head. ‘It wasn’t like that,’ she said. ‘We met, yes, once or twice but only to talk about Venetia or our situation.’ She gave a tiny shrug. ‘Once we had agreed that all amorous escapades belonged in the past, I rather think we were of some use to each other.’

‘The D’Eversley ball,’ Phoebe said in a low voice. ‘You persuaded Jules to invite us didn’t you?’

Sidonie nodded. ‘To be fair to Jules, it had not occurred to him that you would not be invited. I merely speeded up the process.’ She looked at them both sadly. ‘I used to pride myself so much on having brought you all here to Paris and to what I told myself were glorious, happy futures but now...’

‘No, you shouldn’t regret any of it,’ Clementine interrupted fiercely. ‘I certainly don’t and I have more reason than any of us to wish that I had stayed in England.’

Sidonie leaned over and took the girl’s hand. ‘What will you do now, my dear?’ she asked, tears in her eyes. ‘You can’t go back to England and Antoine cannot disobey his father.’

Clementine shook her head. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I really don’t know.’

Chapter Forty

Clementine would later look back on that week as being the most miserable of her entire life. Too embarrassed to go outside in case she saw her sister or any other acquaintances, she remained indoors, alone and miserable. In between silent, awkward meals with Phoebe and Lucien, she spent her time lying wide awake on her bed or pacing the sitting room, half listening for a knock on the door.

‘Darling, you must rest,’ Phoebe implored her from the sofa that she was languidly lying across. ‘I feel exhausted just watching you so heaven knows how tired you must be.’ She fanned herself idly with a painted fan and took a sip from a glass of iced water that Barbe had placed on the table beside her. ‘It’s far too hot for all this pacing and worrying.’

Clementine bit back the sharp retort that she almost made and instead gave a watery smile and collapsed into an armchair beside her friend. ‘I keep hoping that he will come to me,’ she said dully. ‘But I know that if he does then I will have no choice but to send him away again.’

Phoebe sat up. ‘Why should you do that?’ she asked, still fanning herself. ‘It doesn’t really matter if his father disinherits him does it? After all, he’s only going to be inheriting a tumbledown old house and a mountain of debts. You can offer him far more than that, my dear.’

‘He loves that house,’ Clementine said flatly, thinking of the lovely sunkissed afternoon they had spent at Mon Clos. Had that really been four years ago? ‘It should be his one day.’

They both looked up when Lucien strode into the room a few seconds later, Phoebe with her usual languid affection, Clementine with friendly indifference. ‘I have them,’ he said shortly to his wife, patting his coat. ‘It took longer than I thought but it is all arranged.’

Phoebe beamed at him then turned to Clementine and took her hand. ‘I asked Lucien to arrange your travelling papers for you,’ she said gently. ‘You are welcome to stay here, of course but as it is becoming increasingly difficult to leave the city...’

‘I have engaged a coachman who will be able to take you out of the city this evening,’ Lucien continued, looking very pleased with himself. ‘I would suggest making for the Italian border.’ He looked at his wife and grinned. ‘Phoebe tells me that you have always wanted to visit Rome.’

Clementine stared at them both in astonishment. ‘Is this true?’ she asked, torn between excitement and dread. ‘I’m leaving Paris tonight?’ She thought of Antoine and her sister and everything she would be leaving behind and felt a pang of regret.

Lucien nodded. ‘You will understand of course that you won’t be able to travel under your married name and so you are Miss Clementine Garland once again,’ he said with a smile, producing the wad of papers from within his blue coat and throwing it down onto the table.

‘Better start packing,’ Phoebe said with a laugh. ‘I’ll send Barbe along to help you.’

‘You won’t be going alone,’ Lucien said as Clementine rose to her feet and went to her bedroom door. He and Phoebe exchanged a look and he gave a tiny nod. ‘I have papers here for Venetia as well.’

Clementine turned and stared at him. ‘Venetia will be coming with me?’ she asked. ‘What about Jules? He’s still in prison, isn’t he?’

‘Leave him to me,’ Lucien said before turning back to his wife, who held her arms up to him for an embrace. ‘How are you today?’ he whispered, gently pressing his hand on the broad pale blue silk sash tied around her waist. ‘How’s our boy?’

‘Shh,’ Phoebe chided him with a low laugh. ‘It might be a girl.’

Clementine pretended not to hear but hid a smile as she went into her room and gently closed the door behind her. She’d guessed guessed the truth a few days ago when Phoebe had arisen pale and wan from the breakfast table and rushed off to be noisily sick in her room. Although her own dearest desire was to have a child, she was genuinely delighted for her friend and wished her well.

Wishing that she had slept a bit more during the past few days, she wearily started packing her things away into their trunks, lovingly shaking out and folding her dresses and every so often scattering a few lavender heads between the folds. It wasn’t long before Barbe scratched on the door and came in to help, clicking her tongue against her teeth when she saw Clementine doing it herself. ‘You shouldn’t be doing that, madame,’ she admonished, firmly taking a pale pink embroidered muslin gown from Clementine’s hands and casting a critical eye over the work that she had already done. ‘You have a lie down and get some rest and I’ll see to this,’ she said, more kindly but still making it clear that she would accept no argument.

‘I should like to help,’ Clementine said, equally firmly as she picked up another gown of pale blue and white striped silk and began to fold it. ‘I don’t have a maid coming with me and so will have to do things for myself until I settle for long enough to engage one.’

‘I expect that you and the Comtesse Jules will look after each other until you are settled,’ Barbe said with a disapproving sniff.

Clementine smiled. ‘That’s why I should get used to shifting for myself,’ she said. ‘I think Venetia is even less handy than I am.’

It took them a couple of hours to put away all of Clementine’s things and then there was nothing more to do but sit nervously with Phoebe and Lucien until dusk had fallen and it was safe to carry them all down to the large travelling
berline
that he had hired for the occasion. Before she left the apartment for the last time, Clementine handed a letter addressed to Antoine to Phoebe. ‘Tell him that I am sorry,’ she whispered.

‘God speed,’ Phoebe breathed as she embraced Clementine in the hall of her building. ‘We’ll see each other again soon, won’t we?’

Clementine smiled. ‘Of course we will,’ she said, kissing her friend on the cheek and inhaling for the last time her reassuring scent of lilies and roses. ‘We will be back before you know it.’ She felt sick with nerves as she allowed Lucien to help her up into the carriage - what if it all went wrong? She had heard of several people being apprehended on their way out of Paris and then imprisoned, never to be seen or heard of again.

Lucien climbed inside the carriage with her. ‘I will escort you to the city gate,’ he explained quickly. ‘I am sufficiently well known in the city to be able to deal with any problems that may arise.’ He slammed the door shut and waved to his wife who was watching anxiously from the doorway. ‘The coachman was recommended to me by Danton, who vouched for his loyalty. He will take you wherever you want to go and can be counted on to act quickly if there is any trouble.’ He saw Clementine give a little start of surprise and grinned. ‘I told Danton all about our plan - it was he who made most of the necessary arrangements. I think he must have taken quite a fancy to you,
chérie
.’

Clementine blushed, thinking of Citizen Danton with his scarred ruddy cheeks and earnest manner. ‘I had no idea,’ she murmured as the carriage began to roll down the Rue Saint-Honoré. With each bump against the cobbles, her stomach gave a huge lurch of fear although now that they were finally off and on their way, she found herself daydreaming of Italy and the freedom that she had always longed for. It was just a shame that she would not have Antoine to share it with. Antoine. She tried her best not to think of him but there he was as always. She wondered how long it would take before the sadness would go away.

‘I’m surprised that Venetia wanted to leave while Jules is still in prison,’ she said not long afterwards as they turned on to the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré. She looked up at the dark shuttered windows of Venetia’s charming little apartment and imagined the chaos and disorder within as her friend prepared to leave.

Before Lucien could reply, the front door swung open and Venetia was running towards them, dressed in a blue satin travelling coat and gown and with a jaunty matching hat pinned to her red hair. ‘You’re early,’ she said breathlessly, turning to beckon forward a nurse who was carrying little Alexandre in her arms. ‘We’ve only just finished packing.’ She lifted her little boy up into the carriage and smiled wearily up at Clementine. ‘Italy then?’ she asked.

Clementine nodded. ‘Italy,’ she confirmed. ‘It won’t be for long.’

‘I hope not,’ Venetia replied, watching as Lucien and the coachman picked up her trunks and attached them to the back of the carriage. ‘One never knows what one will want to wear,’ she murmured apologetically with a tiny shrug as they struggled beneath the weight of a particularly large box.