As they drew near the farmhouse, Blanche came running to meet them, her flower-printed skirt billowing about her. Her delicately shaped face with the lustrous brown eyes and high arched brows, which gave her the look of being perpetually amazed at life’s goodness to her, was alight with joy. Some tendrils of her blue-black hair danced from their pins as she approached, her arms outstretched in welcome. Louise sprang down from the carriage without waiting for George’s helping hand and rushed into a shared embrace, both of them almost overcome by their reunion, and they kissed each other on both cheeks in the French manner.
‘You’re here at last!’ Blanche exclaimed thankfully as they drew apart to laugh together in their happiness. ‘I can’t begin to tell you how much I’ve been longing for your visit.’ She turned eagerly to Delphine and kissed her too, seeming not to notice a lack of response. ‘How wonderful to have you here! I want so much for you to feel at home with us.’ She stepped back and flung her arms wide in exhilaration. ‘You are both more welcome than the flowers in May, as we used to say to each other in France long ago.’
Arm in arm with Louise, Blanche led the way up to the farmhouse while Delphine followed behind with Alexandre, who pointed out various landmarks to her, undaunted by her lack of interest. He and his wife had been well prepared by Louise’s letter for the state she was in and they both intended to do their best for her.
Louise studied the farmhouse with interest as they approached. It stood on a rise, giving it a fine view in all directions. She had expected it to be a log cabin, having glimpsed so many along the river banks, but this was a large single-storey house, built of wood, its clapboards white and the door a cheerful red, as were the window frames and shutters. A shady veranda encompassed it on all sides.
‘What a charming house!’ she exclaimed.
‘This wasn’t our first home here,’ Blanche explained. ‘There was just a little log cabin when we came, but as soon as the land was in order, Alexandre had our new house built on this site. It gives a view of the river and I love it.’ Then she spotted her daughter’s face at one of the windows. ‘There’s Henrietta! She was too shy to come with me to meet you, but that won’t last. She is used to people constantly coming on business or socially.’
Louise waved to the child, who promptly disappeared, but as they took the steps up to the house, Henrietta had come to the door. She had the confidence and self-assurance of the much-loved child and she stared up at Louise, her eyes more golden than brown, her piquant little face pink-cheeked and framed by a cloud of russet hair that matched her father’s.
‘Bonjour, madame,’ she said, her words singularly articulate for her three and a half years, and she held out her hand. ‘Come with me. I’ll show you to your room. It’s very pretty. Papa has painted it pink for you.’
Louise was enchanted by her and took her proffered hand. ‘How kind of you, Henrietta, but first of all I’d like you to meet Delphine.’ She had hoped her sister would at least smile at the child, but Delphine only glanced at her and then away again.
Louise let the child guide her to the bedroom while Blanche took charge of Delphine. It smelt of new paint and new fabric, the gauzy white drapes at the window still crisp in their folds. There was a door that opened to the veranda, as had every other room in the house. Through the window she could see an orchard and beyond that was a wide stretch of woodland.
‘You live in a beautiful place, Henrietta,’ Louise said as she removed her hat and cloak. ‘Do you have many playmates?’
‘Betsy is my best friend.’ Henrietta had perched on the edge of the bed, swinging her legs to and fro. ‘We share her baby sister and my pony and the cat and five new kittens and my duck and my toys.’
‘Where does Betsy live?’
‘In the cabin that was our home once. George is Betsy’s papa and Maria her mama.’ Then the child’s eyes widened in delight as Louise took from her tapestry bag the doll that she had bought in New York. ‘Is she for me? Merci!’
‘What name shall you give her?’
Henrietta slithered down from the bed to hug the doll to her and kiss its painted wooden face. ‘Sophie! It’s such a pretty name.’
At that point George appeared with a trunk balanced on his shoulder. Henrietta, although she had been prattling away in French, immediately switched to English. ‘Where’s Betsy? I want to show her our new doll!’
He lowered the trunk and smiled at her as he set it down by the wall. ‘You’ll find her in the kitchen.’
The child went running off, followed by George on his way to bring in the rest of the luggage. A few minutes later Blanche appeared in the doorway. Louise, tidying her hair in front of the mirror, turned towards her.
‘You’re bringing your daughter up to be bilingual and, even more important, unselfish,’ she said admiringly.
‘We’re doing our best. Alexandre is determined that none of the bad old ways of the French aristocracy shall contaminate our lives here.’
‘How wise you both are!’
‘Let me show you the rest of the house. Delphine is coming too.’
Delphine followed them through the pleasant rooms, all simply and comfortably furnished, and they ended the tour in the large kitchen. There Louise met George’s wife, Maria, a good-looking woman, also a freed slave, who helped Blanche in the house. Her baby, only three months old, was asleep in a home-made basket cot in which Maria carried her to the farmhouse every day.
‘Luckily Lily is a good baby and doesn’t interfere with my work very much,’ she said to Louise.
Blanche, leaning over the cot, glanced up over her shoulder with a smile. ‘We love having a baby in the house again. Henrietta and Betsy will have this little one to play with them too later on.’
‘Where are the girls now?’ Louise asked.
She nodded towards the window. ‘They’re outside with the new doll.’
Louise looked out and saw the two children, one head as dark as the other was coppery, changing the doll’s frock for another out of a basket of tiny clothes.
Blanche gave a little laugh. ‘They’ll play for hours there, but don’t think it’s always like that. They’re like two squabbling kittens sometimes. Now it’s time you and Delphine had some refreshment after your journey. I can see that Maria has everything almost ready.’
The light and delicious meal was served in the dining room, where the wallpaper had a design of green leaves on a white background, which gave it an airy, open-air look, aided by the sunshine penetrating the slatted blinds. Delphine scarcely touched the food and sat silent the whole time. Blanche would have shown her concern, but having been forewarned, she made no comment.
Louise was surprised to find how many of her titled countrymen and women had settled within the vicinity. Some had bought farms, others had started their own small businesses in Albany and Troy, the two nearest towns, just as they had done in New York. As a result, Blanche and Alexandre’s social life was far more active than she had ever expected, and her friends were a welcoming host and hostess whenever they entertained.
Although it was a peaceful area, Alexandre had never been easy in his mind when he had had to leave Blanche on her own for any length of time, for peddlers and tramps often came to the farm door on their travels. Not all of them were to be trusted. There had been cases of rape and it was for that reason he had taught her how to handle a gun. Now that Louise was under his roof he thought it advisable to teach her to shoot too. He was a patient instructor and she was quick to learn, having a steady hand and eye. Before long she excelled at hitting the target that he set up.
To Louise’s intense disappointment Delphine remained locked in her room whenever there were visitors, no matter how merry the gatherings must have sounded to her in her isolation. Few people ever saw her, although, knowing of her presence, some included her in their invitations, but she was adamant in refusing all of them. She also retained her silence as one week and then another went by. She was still only picking at food and seem
ed to get thinner every day.
Blanche undertook many of the lighter chores, as with any other farmer’s wife. Yet not once had Delphine offered to help her hostess, even ignoring Louise’s suggestion that she could at least collect the eggs or feed the hens. Instead, while Louise churned butter or gave their hostess a hand making cheese, skimming milk or tending the herb garden, Delphine went off on walks by herself, often staying away for hours. At first her lengthy absences had caused alarm, but it soon became apparent that it was only solitude that she sought. In the end it was George, who all unwittingly was instrumental in instigating her recovery.
She was coming back to the farmhouse one afternoon when she paused by the stables to take some grit out of her shoe. George, who was in charge of the horses among his other tasks, happened to see her as she was putting it on again. He came out of the tack room with Blanche’s saddle, which he had been polishing.
‘You ride like the other ladies, don’t you, Miss Delphine? I ask, ’cause Mrs de Clement’s mare, Séraphine, hasn’t been ridden for several days and needs some exercise.’
Delphine was on the point of refusing abruptly, although she had always loved horses and riding, perhaps even more than Louise. Then she thought how much farther she could get away from the house if she rode, and all else it might do for her. ‘Yes, I’ll take her out for a while.’
As soon as she was in the saddle, Delphine experienced again the almost forgotten pleasure of being able to set off on a splendid horse to ride wherever she wished. Séraphine was frisky at first, being as glad to be out as Delphine was to have charge of her. They went off at a canter, the glossy brown mare and the thin rider, whose almost claw-like hands held the reins expertly, but as if they were a lifeline.
Every day Delphine went riding and became as fond of Séraphine as she had been of her own horse, which she had ridden so often through the French countryside. Blanche was pleased that her horse had given the girl some interest, and both she and Louise noticed how her appetite improved. Soon Delphine regained her lost weight and even put on a little more. She had begun conversing again and during dinner in the evenings she told what she had seen and where she had been that day. Once she had ridden into Troy and bought some hair ribbons, and another time she had followed for several miles the travellers’ road that led to Albany and beyond, saying how some soldiers, drinking outside a tavern, had cheered her as she went by.
Louise felt that Delphine’s recovery was surely complete when she heard her playing her flute on the veranda, where Henrietta and Betsy, not minding that Delphine always ignored them, sat side by side on a step listening to her.
Louise decided that it was getting close to the time when she and Delphine must draw their stay to an end. Blanche happened to overhear her asking Alexandre’s advice about her idea of settling in Washington.
‘You can’t go yet, Louise!’ she exclaimed in dismay. ‘It’s far too soon. At least stay the rest of the summer! In fact, I don’t think you have a choice.’
‘I wish you would stay,’ Alexandre endorsed. ‘It’s like old times, with the three of us being together, and the extra time should prepare Delphine fully for taking up her life again.’
‘I’m easily persuaded,’ Louise admitted gratefully. ‘Until the end of the summer, then. It will give me time to write some letters of enquiry and finalize my plans.’
Delphine came into the house soon afterwards. She had been galloping Séraphine across the pastures and had jumped three high fence rails that had stood in their way. Blanche had seen her from the window, not for the first time, and met her in the hall to express concern.
‘I don’t want to spoil your pleasure in riding Séraphine,’ she said gently, ‘but I’d like you to ride her at an easier pace. I’m so afraid you will take a bad fall if she suddenly baulks at a fence or if you fell together and were both injured.’
Delphine’s face twisted with misery. ‘If that’s how little you think of my riding ability, I won’t ride her ever again!’
Even as Blanche protested that she had no wish to ban her from the saddle, Delphine bolted to her room. In spite of entreaties outside her locked door, she did not appear for dinner, replying that she was not hungry. In the morning she slipped out of the house while the others were at breakfast and went walking alone as before.
Blanche wept. ‘I’ve undone all the good that’s been achieved. But I was only considering her well-being. I haven’t mentioned it to you before, Louise, because I kept hoping I was mistaken, but I think Delphine is pregnant.’
Louise caught her breath. ‘Can it be?’
‘Just think about it,’ Blanche advised, her face distressed. ‘Was Delphine’s wretchedness due entirely to heartache or was it more? Then there’s the extra weight she has gained. What’s more, I fear all the recent galloping and jumping has been to cause a miscarriage.’
‘But she’s had no morning sickness!’
‘She could have gone in and out of her veranda door unseen and none of us would have heard her in the outside privy.’
‘How blind I’ve been!’ Louise paced the floor, a hand to her forehead. ‘Why ever didn’t I grasp the situation? So that’s the reason you said I really had no choice when you spoke of us staying on here?’
Blanche nodded. ‘It’s so fortunate that you are both staying with us at this time. Delphine can have the baby here without any outsider knowing about it. All scandal can be avoided. You’ve already planned on starting afresh in a new place and, as an émigré, Delphine can appear to be a young widow with her baby. There will be nothing to sully her good name.’
‘You have thought everything out, Blanche.’ Louise, although still uncertain, was deeply touched by her friend’s wish to protect Delphine. She knew Blanche hated subterfuge as much as she, but Delphine as a single girl with a baby would be shunned everywhere. All her dreams of marrying well would be at an end, quite apart from the stigma of illegitimacy her innocent child would bear all through life. The future would be bleak for both. ‘I’ll talk to Delphine when she comes back later.’
That afternoon Louise and Blanche were busy in the dairy when Maria suddenly burst through the door. ‘Come quickly, ma’am! You too, Madame Louise! I just came back from the wash house with the laundry and found Miss Delphine lying in a faint on the kitchen floor!’
Louise was first out of the dairy, kicking off the wooden pattens that kept her feet above the damp stone floor, and ran out into the sunshine, up towards the house. Blanche, who had been about to skim a bowl of cream, dropped it accidentally in her alarm, but kicked it heedlessly out of her way, splashing cream everywhere and leaving her pattens in her wake as she followed Louise at speed. Both of them feared they would find Delphine miscarrying.
Sensibly, Maria had kept the children out of the way and Louise and Blanche were alone as they flung themselves down on their knees beside the unconscious girl. There was no sign of blood, but a strong smell of alcohol. Louise, raising Delphine’s head on her arm, looked at Blanche in bewilderment.
‘She’s drunk! Completely senseless!’
Blanche reached under the kitchen table and brought out an empty bottle of her husband’s home-distilled spirit. ‘Look at this! Not a drop left. We’d better get her to bed quickly. She’s going to feel very ill indeed when she comes round.’
It was late evening when Delphine began to moan as she recovered consciousness. Louise, sitting by the bed, grabbed a bowl and held it for her just in time as she vomited violently over and over again. On the opposite side of the bed Blanche watched her with pity before summoning Maria, who took away the used bowl and left a spare one in case it should be needed. Delphine fell back again on to the pillows, her face drained white. Louise took a damp cloth and wiped her sister’s trembling mouth.
‘We know you’re pregnant, Delphine,’ Louise said quietly.
She groaned. ‘Haven’t I lost the baby?’
‘No. Did you suppose an excess of alcohol would do it when galloping Séraphin
e and taking fences with her failed to work?’
‘It’s what I hoped,’ Delphine answered in a weak voice. ‘I remembered one of the assistants in the millinery workshop telling of her sister drinking gin and jumping off the kitchen table for a miscarriage.’
‘Is that what you did?’ Blanche asked, aghast.
‘I couldn’t find any gin, but I knew Alexandre’s spirit was very strong, so I took a swig of it between jumps.’ Then Delphine gulped noisily. ‘I’m going to vomit again!’
Both Louise and Blanche tended to her until eventually she fell into a deep sleep. They had not questioned her again. Throughout the night, Louise went to see that Delphine was all right, once giving her a drink of water.
‘I want to tell you about Pieter,’ Delphine muttered, bleary-eyed.
‘In the morning,’ Louise said quietly. ‘Go back to sleep now.’
Throughout the following day Delphine felt too ill to talk or rise from her bed, but the following evening, in the last rays of the evening sun, she and Louise sat down side by side in wicker chairs on the veranda. Then out came the account of the stolen Saturday evenings, the hectic parties, the gambling and, after Pieter had given her the ring and sworn to marry her, how she had finally surrendered to him. It was here that Delphine closed her eyes on private memories, seeming to feel again his exploring fingers and travelling lips that had awakened her naked body to such ecstasy.
Louise had listened without comment, looking ahead at the descending darkness of the night, which came so quickly on this side of the world. All the time she was wondering why she had been so foolish as to put such trust in her sister’s declaration that she would allow no pre-marital intimacies. She remembered her doubts about Pieter and recalled Daniel’s words, which had been a warning after all.
A veranda lantern, which had been lit earlier, took on life and shed its glow over the sisters where they sat between the golden squares of the lighted windows. Louise finally turned and looked at her sister. ‘I can understand how it all happened. Blanche has thought out a way to save this situation.’
New World, New Love Page 13
