Page 45 of A Tale of Two Dukes

A few minutes later, the two women sat together in the private parlour that Viola had hired for her stay at the inn. Tea had been brought, more for appearances’ sake than anything else – as though this was a normal social call between acquaintances, when it most emphatically was not.

Madame Lesmire said earnestly, ‘I’m glad I came across you, Lady Ventris, but it was not quite by chance.

Our maid’s sister is employed in this inn as an abigail, and is accustomed to talk idly of the visitors, particularly if they are ladies of quality.

I heard last night that you were here, and was coming on purpose to seek you out this morning when we met.

You were described to me; I could not fail to recognise you, and besides, I have seen your portrait in a print shop before now.

Fashionable beauties, such as people of all ranks like to stare at – I was one myself once, long ago. How strange it seems.’

‘I can’t imagine that you have come merely to share impressions of Edward as a husband,’ Viola said drily.

‘In any case, I have absolutely no intention of doing anything of the kind, I promise you.’ She could see that the woman had some distinct aim in mind, and wished that she might get to the point without further delay.

She had some faint inkling that this point, when it came, would be nothing that she’d be glad to hear.

Julia did not seem to be malicious in her intent – far from it – but she was highly agitated about something.

It could hardly be anything good. Were dramatic and unexpected revelations about the past ever positive, in life or in fiction?

‘But Elizabeth did not give him a son, or a daughter,’ Viola said quietly. ‘I did, many years later. Two, in point of fact.’

‘Did you?’

They regarded each other in silence. Julia said at last, her face serious, ‘I won’t ask you any questions; I make no accusations.

I wish for no secret knowledge. God knows your life is none of my business, and though I daresay people have envied you, I am not one of them.

I will merely share some facts about myself, and you can make of them what you will.

Edward and I were married for five years.

We were young. We did not love each other – love matches were not usual in those days, at our rank of society – but we found ways to please each other.

We found them frequently – all the more often because we had so little else to say to each other.

Even when he no longer pleased me in the least, even when we began to grow apart, I knew my duty, and Edward certainly knew his.

I shudder to remember how well he knew it.

And yet I never was with child, not the least suspicion of it.

With Philippe… I carried his daughter in my belly before I married him, in the Catholic rite, in France.

We went on to have four more children, in seven or eight years.

There would have been more, had I not begun to be more careful, for the sake of my health and the infants I already had.

Was Elizabeth ever in the family way, do you know, in all their long years together? ’

Viola shook her head, trying to keep her face impassive. But she could not lie to this woman who was being so painfully frank with her. ‘Not that I ever heard. I believe it was a great grief to her.’

‘And to Edward, I am sure.’

‘Certainly to Edward.’

Madame Lesmire went on, frowning, ‘These matters I had not thought about for years are on my mind now, because a man came to see me a week or so ago, a stranger. He had gone to a great deal of trouble to find me, he told me, after a casual remark someone recently made to him that they had seen me in the street here and thought they recognised me after many years. And though I did not invite him into my house, he more or less forced his way in, and frightened me, though I admit he offered me no overt violence. He called me Duchess in a sneering sort of way – a title I have no right to. He made insinuations, on the matters I have just revealed to you. Whoever he was – he did not give me his name – he seemed to know somehow that I had never carried Edward’s child, and nor had Elizabeth, and invited me to say that it was noteworthy, that I had proved so very fertile afterwards.

With another man. And that you, by contrast, had provided Edward with his precious heir a mere year or two after your marriage, even though Edward was older then, and, he presumed, less vigorous . ’

Viola shivered at the word, and at the echo of an unpleasant personality she heard in it, and Julia nodded.

‘I liked nothing about the man, nor any of the things he said to me. His purpose was blackmail, it seemed to me, though he never clearly stated it. His insinuation was that Philippe and I were never truly married, or he would say we weren’t, that my past is a scandalous secret, and that my children, who have good positions here in York as solid tradespeople, and are all of them respectably wed, are nothing more than bastards, and their mother a common…

I’m sure you can imagine the words he used.

If all this came out, I fear their business would be ruined, or at least badly damaged, and their lives too.

They have already had trouble enough to rebuild everything after my husband let things slide before his death. ’

‘I am very sorry that this trouble has come to your door when you did nothing to invite it,’ Viola said softly. ‘What exactly did he want from you?’

The woman shrugged. ‘Testimony, he said, and that was all. The truth, in a sworn and notarised document – that I had every reason to believe Edward sterile, from my own knowledge and experience. He did not ask me to tell any lies, he emphasised. There was no need. And the document need never be made public – I didn’t believe that, by the way, not for a second. He made my skin crawl.’

He made Viola’s skin crawl, too. ‘I believe I could put a name to him.’

‘I too. And that name is Armstrong. Your new husband’s older brother – Edward’s heir, before you had your sons and forced him from his place. He looked like an Armstrong to me; he had a strong look of his dissolute father, whom I knew years ago and never liked or trusted.’

‘Tarquin, his name is. Edward warned me against him on his deathbed. Said he would do anything to gain the dukedom he had expected for so long, and which I snatched from him. Did he give you any sort of ultimatum?’

‘Yes. He told me he would come again to see me very soon. He seemed to enjoy the idea that I would be dreading his return, never knowing when it might happen. He has not been back yet, but I cannot doubt that he will, one day or another. And so I wanted to warn you – but I was not confident that a letter from me would even be read by you, or that you would believe it if you read it. You might so easily think that I was just a woman who has fallen from high rank in society to low, and wanted to make mischief. I thought it would be best if I could see you face to face and explain.’

‘What do you mean to do, Madame Lesmire?’

‘If he had offered me money, I would have thrown it back in his face. I don’t need bribes; I am not so desperate.

But I will write his paper – speaking merely of my own experience with Edward, and stating the undeniable fact of my children’s birth.

I don’t have much choice, as I hope you can see.

I don’t trust him an inch, of course I don’t, but I cannot jeopardise my family’s situation.

We are not wealthy people – not now. Philippe lost most of what he had when we fled France in 1792, in fear of our lives, and we were obliged to struggle to make a place for ourselves in a country that is not over-friendly to the French.

It has not been easy, and my husband made it harder by his weaknesses.

I cannot throw away what acceptance we have for the sake of principles. ’

‘And he is not asking you to lie, after all.’

‘No. But I am sorry.’

‘Don’t be – you owe me nothing. We only met an hour ago.

Indeed, I must thank you for your warning.

’ Viola discovered that she liked this woman – both her discretion and her directness.

How odd, when they had something bizarre in common that might have been supposed to make them deeply awkward with each other, rather than comfortable.

‘What will you do with the information I have given you, though? I meant to prepare you, and I have, but what can you do?’

‘I have absolutely no idea.’