Free Lament for a Lost Lover by Philippa Carr

recommended and the following day arrived at Château Tourron.
    It was much more grand than Congrève. There were no goats or chickens in sight, and it had an air of graciousness though a little decayed.
    Jacques led us into the stables where grooms hurried up to take our horses, evidently having been warned that we were coming.
    A servant appeared and took us into the hall where Lady Eversleigh was waiting to greet us.
    She was a tall woman, somewhere in her late forties, I guessed, with masses of light fluffy hair and rather babyish blue eyes and fluttering hands. She was clearly pleased to see us and turned first to Harriet.
    “I am so delighted you have come,” she said. “I so much enjoyed meeting your mother …”
    Harriet smiled and, lifting her hand slightly, indicated me.
    “I am Arabella Tolworthy,” I said.
    “But, of course. So like your mother. How could I not have seen? My dear, welcome, and this is your friend … and your brother. We are so pleased to have you. Was the inn comfortable? We have stayed there and found it good … as inns go. Now you must be tired and wish to wash or have some refreshment. We will show you to your rooms first. Have you brought much baggage with you? So difficult travelling. I will have it brought up.”
    Lucas said we had two saddle horses and they were in the stables.
    “One of the men will see to that. Now come with me. I have put you two ladies together. I hope you will not mind. We have not a great deal of room. My son and daughter are so pleased that you have come. They will tell you so themselves. There are some little ones left behind, I believe. Oh, dear, what a pity they are so young!”
    In spite of her somewhat inconsequential manner, I thought she was assessing us rather shrewdly and me in particular.
    The room I was to share with Harriet was large and contained two beds. There was a carpet on the floorboards, and although it was furnished in a slightly more grand manner, it reminded me very much of the Château Congrève. Lucas was settled close by.
    “I hope this will be adequate,” said Lady Eversleigh. “How I should love to be back at Eversleigh Court. How different! How spacious! How adequately we used to entertain our guests there.” She sighed. “But it will come and you must be feeling the same about your homes …”
    “We yearn for the day when we can return,” said Harriet, and although I looked at her sharply, she went on: “But the news is more hopeful. Perhaps it will not be long before we are making our plans to go home.”
    “It must be soon. There is great excitement among the King’s entourage. My husband is there, you know, for it was there that he met your parents. That dreadful Cromwell … dead! And this son. He is not like his father … a fellow of no account, I have heard. That is all to the good, don’t you see?”
    We replied that we saw absolutely, and she said she would leave us to refresh ourselves and then if we would come down to the salon she would have the utmost pleasure in introducing us to her son and daughter.
    When the door shut, Harriet looked at me and laughed.
    “At least,” said Harriet, “our hostess is not at a loss for a word.”
    “She is very friendly.”
    “And seems delighted that we have come. I wonder what the son and daughter are like? I suppose we have been invited to provide them with companions of their own age. Well, it is a little more grand than our own dear château. There is a shabbiness though. I suppose it could hardly be expected that the French nobility should hand over their best properties to the exiles.”
    “You are somewhat critical, considering that but for your coming to Congrève, you might have been living very frugally with your band of players.”
    “I don’t forget it, but that does not prevent my making a reasonable assessment. What shall we wear for our first meeting with the young?”
    I looked down at my riding habit. It was not as immaculate as it had been when