Free American Lady : The Life of Susan Mary Alsop (9781101601167) by Frances (INT) Caroline; Fitzgerald De Margerie Page A

admiration for intelligence and her enthusiasm.” 13
    Bill gladly followed his wife into this social whirlwind and got along well with the Coopers. It was not clear whether he knew that their quartet was hiding a duet, but Susan Mary was convinced he did not. At any rate, Bill never showed any sign of torment or bother, just real satisfaction at his wife’s obvious happiness.
    This was one of the most glorious summers of Susan Mary’s life. A sparkling creature seemed to have replaced respectable Mrs. Patten. She wore New Look gowns that Christian Dior lent and even gave her because they flattered her slender waist and handsome bust. “Madame, it does me good to see so much
joie devivre,
” the maître d’hôtel at Maxim’s exclaimed one evening after she had stumbled and fallen into his arms. Knowing herself to be loved by Duff, she took to flirting with other men out of pure amusement. For the first time in her life, she stopped equaling happiness with virtue. She was convinced that the only two friends she had confided in about her affair (Odette Pol-Roger and Loelia, the Duchess of Westminster) would keep her secret. She felt protected by her reputation as a modest, even prudish woman. Still, caution was necessary. When her friend Pam Berry, who held a political salon in London, asked her to lunch with Loelia and Ann Rothermere, the future wife of author Ian Fleming, she flatly turned down the invitation, fearing she would be drawn onto dangerous ground by these experts in extracting personal confessions. “I felt slightly like the President of Estonia being asked by Stalin, Vichinsky, and Molotov for a cosy cup of tea to discuss border problems,” she wrote to Duff. 14
    Susan Mary stopped worrying about Diana because she had come to understand the unusual and unbreakable relationship that united the Coopers. Her own jealousy remained, but she was determined to keep it in check. “You are one of those people who like to love three or four people at the same time for different reasons and in different ways and that is OK.” 15 Happily for her, Duff was an expert in keeping his affairs separate and liked the thrill of multiple clandestine relationships. Susan Mary’s self-proclaimed tolerance was never put to the test.
    She and Duff saw each other often, but they were seldom alone. As ambassador, Duff had a considerable entourage and little time to himself. He was always surrounded by colleagues and secretaries. A tête-à-tête, like the lunch in Belle Époque stylethey had in Chennevières on the banks of the Marne on July 16, was a rare occasion. Most of their communication was limited to letters and the telephone. Susan Mary wrote ceaselessly, often in pencil from bed. Her letters were tender and witty, recounting stories from her daily life, passing on gossip and asking for advice on books. She resisted the temptation to slip into introspection and feverish declarations of love, but when she could not take it any longer, she would turn to quotes—“
Ce soir je t’aime trop pour te parler d’amour
” 16 —or poke fun at her own ardor. “It would no doubt be more
convenable
if I could feel platonic about you darling (‘Young American woman hero-worships Great Author and Ambassador’ sort of thing) but nothing about you arouses the platonic in me.” 17
    How could Duff resist the charms of this newcomer to his life, who entertained and flattered him, asking innocently, “Is there a life of you?,” 18 revealing her intelligence with flirtation and her charm through solemnity. Susan Mary learned and loved, a tearless and guilt-free Madame de Tourvel.
    In the autumn of 1947, Duff went on holiday to San Vigilio on Lake Garda in Italy. On September 15, Susan Mary wrote to him, “My pleasant spoiled life has become a mechanical series of days to be got through somehow till I see you again.” On September 17: “Even my toes feel excited”; and on the same day: “My life has reduced itself to the simple