‘He listened attentively and said he could well understand her horror of crowds. People en masse could be terrifying. And he said he thought what a charming fashion it was to wear a hood in the way she did. It would be the rage at Court if she appeared there in it. She said she was not likely to do that, but it was clear that she enjoyed his company and when he rose to go he apologized once more for coming in so unceremoniously, and he asked if he might come again. You could have knocked me down with a feather when she said he might.’

How amazing it was that this stranger had been able to break through what had seemed an impenetrable barrier.

Even Lisette was a little charmed by him, and I thought what a happy solution it would be if he married her. She needed a happy married life. Her experiences with the farmer whom, I began to understand, she had come near to loathing, had embittered her in some way. I was sure that a happy marriage with an attractive man would heal her wounds.

Lisette and I found great pleasure in riding together and we often tied up the horses and stretched ourselves on the grass and indulged in the pleasure of light-hearted conversation. Lisette was an inveterate gossip and if she could discover a hint of scandal about anyone in the neighbourhood she was delighted. What she liked most was discussing the royal family. She had the Frenchwoman’s dislike for Marie Antoinette and declared her belief in the rumours about her when they were scandalous. She often went into the town and once brought back two books which were allegedly about the Queen. One was Les Amours de Charlot and ’Toinette which told of the supposed love-affair between the Queen and her brother-in-law Charles, Comte d’Artois. The other was even worse. This was Essai Historique sur la Vie de Marie Antoinette … a scurrilous production.

I read it with indignation and told Lisette she should burn the book. ‘It is obviously full of lies,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t make sense.’

‘I think it is only fair that when queens behave immorally they should not be allowed to escape criticism. Think what happens to poor girls who are not queens. One false step and their lives are ruined.’

‘But this is lies. You have only to read it to see through it. It is written by someone who hates the Queen.’

‘It is printed in secret but that does not prevent people seeing it. I was told that you could buy it in most of the towns, and all over the country people are reading about the private life of their queen. So why shouldn’t I?’

‘No sensible people will mistake such rubbish for truth.’

Lisette looked at me slyly. ‘I will not show you anything else,’ she said.

‘I hope you will not show this sort of thing to anyone.’

‘How fierce you are! It is only a joke.’

‘It wouldn’t be to the Queen.’

‘I am sure she would laugh. They say she is very frivolous.’

I refused to discuss the scandals about the Queen with Lisette and she stopped talking about them. Instead she talked about Léon Blanchard and marvelled that he had become quite friendly with Sophie.

‘Lottie,’ she said one day, ‘do you think he might marry Sophie?’

‘Marry Sophie! She would never marry.’

‘Why not? She allows him to visit her. Hasn’t she changed since he came?’

I flushed a little. A short while ago I had been thinking he might be a suitable husband for Lisette.

‘I know,’ went on Lisette, ‘he is only a tutor and not therefore of the right social standing to mate with the daughter of a Comte, but she is scarred … damaged goods, you might say.’

‘Don’t talk about Sophie like that!’ I said sharply.

‘You are soft, Lottie. Women in families like this one are regarded as so much merchandize or bargaining counters. Marriages are made for them … suitable marriages. Poor Sophie is not of the same value as she once was. I am sorry if I offended you by referring to her as damaged goods, but that is really what she is.’

‘If she could marry and have children, it would be wonderful. She looks quite pretty in her hoods.’

‘But for a husband she would have to take off her hood.’

‘I think Léon Blanchard is a very kind man.’

Lisette was silent.

‘I should be happy if she married,’ I went on. ‘I would cease … ’

‘To feel guilty for marrying the one who was to have married her?’

‘I know she had rejected him.’

‘For good reason. Oh, Lottie, you should never feel guilty in life. What happens happens, and if one person’s tragedy is another’s good fortune that is all the luck of the game.’

Sometimes Lisette made me see myself too clearly for comfort. I did feel guilty though, and if Sophie would only marry and be happy I should be able to wash all guilty feelings from my mind.

Lisette smiled at me knowingly.

‘Let us pray for a match between them … for her sake and for yours.’

It really seemed as though this might not be impossible. Sophie had changed. She even joined us for dinner now and then. She sat next to Léon and seemed to draw comfort from him and she began to look prettier in her beautifully coloured hoods, and there was a certain contentment visible on her face.

What a change since Léon Blanchard had come to our household!

Armand talked about his friends when we gathered over the meal and the servants had brought in the last of the dishes. There would be an atmosphere then almost of conspiracy.

‘These agitators are doing their work more frequently now,’ said Armand. ‘There was one in Aurillac last week. The trouble is we never know when they are going to strike. It is the same procedure every time. A man suddenly gets up in the market-place, begins to harangue the crowd, tells them how they are maltreated, rouses them to fury and usually that starts it.’

‘Why is it that you cannot find out where they are likely to be?’ asked Leon. ‘If you did … and your band could be there waiting for them … ’

‘We plan to have our agents watching for them, visiting the towns, listening. We shall catch up with them in time. Then we shall be ready for them. You should join us, Blanchard.’

‘I doubt I should have the time. But if I had I should be with you.’

‘I am sure we could arrange something.’

‘Unfortunately I have to prepare lessons for my pupils. I think perhaps that in taking on two sets of them I may have given myself too much.’

My father said: ‘Of course Monsieur Blanchard has not time to join your band, Armand. You should know better than to ask him.’

Any suggestion that Blanchard might leave threw my father into a panic. He had assured himself that having been recommended by the Duc de Soissonson, Blanchard must indeed be the best possible tutor. His coming had made such a difference to us all. The boys seemed to enjoy their lessons; they were more docile, more serious; the Comte himself enjoyed Léon’s conversation and would miss his company; but perhaps above all was what he had done for Sophie. It was so much more natural that she should join us for meals and live like a normal member of the family. Shutting herself away in her turret had been most unhealthy.

‘I shall see what can be done,’ said Léon. ‘I do realize the importance of your mission. It may well be that I can find a little time … ’

Armand was delighted and beamed his approval of Léon Blanchard. He went on to talk at length of the aims and intention of his band.

I often wondered what it was about Léon Blanchard that people seemed to find so attractive. I myself was growing interested in him but that was because I was seeing him as a possible husband for Sophie; but I did find he was in my thoughts very often.

One day when I returned from a ride I saw him going into the stables and I was suddenly aware of an extraordinary feeling, almost as though I remembered living that moment before.

It was uncanny. A kind of déjà vu.