Read Every Mother's Son Online

Authors: Val Wood

Tags: #Ebook Club, #Historical, #Family, #Top 100 Chart, #Fiction

Every Mother's Son (18 page)

BOOK: Every Mother's Son
13.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

‘She will,’ Daniel repeated with a grin. ‘Don’t underestimate her or you’ll get ’sharp end of her tongue. She’s waiting.’ And besides, he thought, I can’t wait to see her again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Beatrice paced up and down her room. What was keeping them? She had been sure that they would be close behind her and already in Switzerland. But then she recalled that Charles had proposed that they might go to Paris first, and that, she decided, must be where they were. They wouldn’t want to miss it, not two young men on their own.

It’s not fair, she thought. Men have so much more freedom than women. She heaved an exasperated breath. But I’m going to change that. I have only one life and I’m not going to miss any opportunity just because I’m a woman. She opened the window, letting in a cool draught of mountain air, barely noticing the view of meadows and mountains and the blue of the sparkling River Aare below her, which she had come to know so well. Down on the left bank of the river, Interlaken would be warmer, but in this mountainside château the residents felt the effect of the snow still lingering on the peaks.

It was her own fault that she was waiting; there had been no need for her to be here. She had finished her course of deportment, the art of conversation, the appreciation of fine art and its history. Staying on hadn’t been Beatrice’s original intention, but on hearing that Charles and Daniel’s plans were fact and not merely pipe dreams she had asked her parents if she might continue for another term. The academy principal, Madame Carpeoux, had been surprised but wasn’t going to turn down the extra fee, and had written to say that Beatrice was very welcome to stay on and that any new young ladies would benefit from her accomplishments and experience.

She stopped her pacing and sat down on the easy chair by her window. One of the perquisites of being older than most of the pupils was that she now had a room of her own rather than having to share. To a certain extent she had more freedom, too, and this was what she was considering now.

I must try to stay calm and not be as hot-headed as I tend to be, she thought. If I’m to contemplate freedom then I must take into account that whatever I decide to do must not reflect badly on Madame Carpeoux or the academy.

She gave some consideration to the question of how Charles and Daniel would come. Would they travel by rail from Darlingen and then by steamship on Lake Thun? Interlaken was situated between Lake Brienz to the east and Lake Thun to the west and was mostly German-speaking. It’s no use worrying, she told herself. They’ll come as and when they choose and I must be ready.

The bell rang for afternoon tea, and she paused at the top of the staircase to watch the chattering young women who had recently arrived hurrying down or hesitating as if unsure what to do or where to go.

One of the uncertain ones, a girl of about sixteen, looked about her as if searching for a companion and caught Beatrice’s eye. ‘
Bonjour, mademoiselle
,’ she said in halting French.

‘Hello,’ Beatrice replied. ‘Have you just arrived?’

‘Oh, yes.’ The girl seemed to be relieved to be speaking English. ‘Only today. I wasn’t able to come for the start of term as my grandmother was ill and there was no one available to bring me earlier. My French isn’t very good, I’m afraid.’

‘It will get better,’ Beatrice assured her. ‘As will your German.’

‘Oh, dear. I don’t know any German.’

‘I’m Beatrice Hart. What’s your name?’ Beatrice asked, leading the way down to the sitting room where tea was being served.

‘Anne Percy. I’m very pleased to meet you, Miss Hart. Are you a tutor here?’

‘No, no. My brother and cousin are travelling in Europe, so I decided to stay for another term and perhaps join them for a few excursions.’

They found a vacant table and sat down. Anne Percy looked around nervously. ‘I don’t know anyone,’ she said. ‘Everyone will have paired off by now.’

‘I’ll introduce you,’ Beatrice told her. ‘And you may always come to me if there is anything you don’t understand.’

Tea was served in the English style with a silver teapot, a milk jug and a sugar bowl; there was sliced lemon on a china plate, and a selection of small sandwiches, bread and butter and cakes.

‘You see, just like at home,’ Beatrice told her. ‘Would you like to pour?’

‘Oh! Mama does it at home.’

Beatrice smiled. ‘But your mama isn’t here now, so pretend that I’m your guest. Everyone takes it in turn to be hostess, to pour the tea and offer refreshment. It’s all part of the tuition.’ I’m astonished that they don’t know how to do it, she thought. Mama taught me at an early age. We used to play that I was she and I rang the bell for afternoon tea and poured the tea and offered cake when it was brought.

‘I’ve slopped it into the saucers,’ Anne said in an anguished whisper.

‘Then ring the bell,’ Beatrice pointed to the little silver bell on the table, ‘and ask for clean ones. You’re not the only one; listen.’

Tinkling bells were being rung at several tables as flushed young faces turned towards the maids for assistance.

For a few days Beatrice cultivated Anne, becoming her mentor and introducing her to other young ladies, and then she approached Madame Carpeoux with a suggestion.

‘My brother and cousin will be calling on me very shortly, as I mentioned, madame. They are travelling through Switzerland, and I would like to go into town and buy presents for them. Would it be possible, rather than having a
compagnon
from the teaching staff with me, for me to
chaperonner
a small group of young ladies into Interlaken? We could walk by the lake and perhaps take tea in one of the hotels or restaurants.’

‘Excellent!’ Madame Carpeoux enthused. ‘You must insist that they speak French between themselves and to shopkeepers unless German is spoken.’

‘I wasn’t thinking of taking the young ladies shopping,’ Beatrice said innocently. ‘But yes, it would be excellent tuition for them,’ she agreed, as if it hadn’t been her idea all along.

‘But you must take a maid, to carry parcels if nothing else. How many
mesdemoiselles
were you thinking of?’

‘Four would be a good number and it would mean that they would also become better acquainted,
n’est-ce pas, madame
?’

‘Indeed they would. Excellent! When would you like to go?’

‘Tomorrow,’ Beatrice said firmly.

The following day was sunny and warm, and after luncheon the little group stepped into the open-topped carriage for their journey down the hillside to Interlaken.

They alighted by Lake Thun and Beatrice gave instructions to the driver to collect them at a certain hotel at five o’clock. He fingered his top hat and drove away.

The town was full of visitors come to enjoy a cruise on the water and the view of the Jungfrau, visible from the lakeside; even in the warm weather it was still covered in pristine snow that glistened so brightly that some eyes had to be averted.

‘Can it be climbed?’ Anne Percy asked. ‘It’s very high.’

‘It can be climbed, but we haven’t the time today, mademoiselle,’ Beatrice joked, adding, ‘I understand that it was climbed for the first time about seventy years ago. Does anyone know what Jungfrau means?’

The young ladies shook their heads, but the maid Jeanne, whose English was limited, said, ‘Maiden, mademoiselle.’

‘Yes,
bravo
, Jeanne. Well done.’ Then she added impishly, ‘Or virgin,’ and smiled as they all giggled and blushed.

She led them along the lakeside, where one or two young gentlemen strollers tipped their hats at the group of young ladies, and then she steered them towards the shops and hotels.

‘I’m going to give you an hour to yourselves,’ she said. ‘You may look in the shops and purchase items if you wish. Keep together and do not speak to any gentlemen who might approach you. Jeanne will come with you and you must be back here by three o’clock. No later, do you understand?’

They were all eager for freedom and promised that they would be on time. They trotted off chattering animatedly, and when Beatrice had seen them on their way she entered the establishment that sold climbing equipment and outdoor wear.

She was greeted by a shop assistant and told him that she would like to look at walking boots and socks. She sat down on a stool and unbuttoned her boots.

‘For yourself, Fräulein?’


Ja, bitte
.’ She spoke little German, but enough to make herself understood, and told the assistant that she needed sturdy leather boots that were soft inside and several pairs of woollen socks, plus a rucksack. He looked at her curiously, as if this was an unusual request, and as she looked around she saw only gentlemen trying on boots. Surely, she thought, there are women who walk up the mountains even if they don’t attempt the Jungfrau.

She said as much to the assistant, who assured her that they did sell outdoor clothing for ladies as well as men, and then added graciously, ‘But not normally to such elegant young ladies as yourself.’

She smiled, realizing then that her time at the academy had not been wasted after all. She had grown up considerably since leaving home for her finishing education.

The boots and socks, together with the gloves that the assistant recommended, were wrapped and put inside the new grey rucksack, and then the assistant said, ‘Ah! Fräulein, you must have a hat to keep your ears warm. When you climb the mountains the air is much colder than down in the valleys.’

‘Of course,’ she said, and, flirting a little, asked, ‘What would you suggest?’

‘For you, Fräulein, silver fox. I have just the thing.’ He went to a shelf and lifted down a hatbox, opened it and gently took out the most beautiful fur hat. Beatrice took it from him, handling it carefully.

‘Poor fox,’ she murmured. ‘It would have suited him better than me. I’m not sure if I would be comfortable wearing it.’

‘If not you, Fräulein, then someone else will,’ he said, adding softly, ‘Herr Fox, regrettably, will not be needing it any more.’

She bought it and left the shop with her purchases, thanking the assistant. ‘
Danke schön
,’ she said. ‘
Auf Wiedersehen
.’ When she looked back, she saw him standing in the doorway watching her. She smiled and then set off in another direction. She had one more important call to make.

The young ladies, unused to such freedom, were exhilarated by the outing. Anne Percy had become friends with the other three, and poured the tea at the hotel where a table had been booked for them. They all thanked Beatrice for suggesting the occasion.

‘Perhaps Madame Carpeoux will allow it again,’ Beatrice said, ‘since it has been such a success.’

Back at the academy she hid her purchases at the back of her small wardrobe, and after supper she excused herself and went to her room. She unfastened the hatbox and placed the hat on her head, admiring herself in the mirror before putting on socks and boots and walking up and down in them for a while. Well satisfied, she kept them and the hat on whilst she wrote a letter home.

Charles and Daniel have not yet arrived
, she wrote.

I assume they are still in Paris, or on their way from there. I will probably ask Madame Carpeoux for one or two days without tuition so that I might enjoy some excursions with them when they get here. Perhaps we might take a steamer along the lake, or visit the foothills of the Jungfrau. I hear that mountain walking is very popular with ladies now and that the local shops are stocking up with suitable clothing. The weather is beautiful and it is such a shame to be inside. You know how much I enjoy the outdoors. I do miss Tilly; this is such lovely riding country.

She went on to ask how everyone was at home, and said how much she was looking forward to seeing Charles and catching up with news. Deliberately, she didn’t mention Daniel for a second time.

They wouldn’t understand, she reflected. Well, Mama might, but Papa wouldn’t, and I don’t want to worry them by saying that I can’t wait to see him again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Daniel and Charles stayed with Madame Boudin for another day, to accommodate Charles’s desire for a second visit to the Louvre. Madame Boudin raised no objection; her son François said she seemed to have taken a liking to the two young English
messieurs
. ‘She said you are perfect gentlemen.’

‘There you are,’ Charles grinned as he and Daniel set off sightseeing again. ‘You’re a gentleman after all.’

‘She’s lovely,’ Daniel said. ‘She reminds me of Granny Rosie.’ He hitched up his rucksack. ‘Mebbe I’m a gentleman of the road, or one of nature’s gentlemen,’ he joked. ‘Not a born and bred one like you.’

They split up when nearing the Louvre, as Daniel wanted to walk along the Champs-Elysées again, preferring to be out in the fresh air.

He had read in his guide book that the Avenue was considered to be one of the most beautiful in the world. And as he strolled and admired the impressive houses, the horse chestnut trees and lovely gardens, he thought that whoever had said it must be right. At the statue of Napoleon Bonaparte he walked on towards the Elysée Palace, once the home of princes, counts and royal mistresses, and finally, at the very end of the Champs-Elysées, stood the monument he had been hoping to see, the magnificent Arc de Triomphe.

Open-topped carriages drawn by fine horses and carrying well-dressed visitors clip-clopped past him as he strolled, followed by a pair of white Arab mounts ridden by an elegant young couple, and Daniel sighed jealously. What I wouldn’t give to be on horseback, riding such superb animals, with a certain lady friend by my side. Then he heard the thud of boots and turned to see a contingent of foot soldiers approaching. Following hard behind them came another detachment, marching alongside a gun carriage, and finally another smaller company of fusiliers pacing in time to a drummer.

I wish that Lenny and Joseph could be here to watch them, he mused, and that Maria and Dolly and little Lizzie could see ’young women in ’carriages with their pretty dresses and parasols. Wouldn’t they just love them! He took out a notebook and pencil and scribbled notes of what he had seen to remind him to tell them when he returned home.

BOOK: Every Mother's Son
13.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

A Winter Scandal by Candace Camp
The House at Baker Street by Michelle Birkby
Wedding Cookies by George Edward Stanley
Power Play by Titania Woods
Second Rate Chances by Stephens, Holly
Ghosts of Ophidian by McElhaney, Scott
Nory Ryan's Song by Patricia Reilly Giff
Color Blind (Team Red) by Hammond, T.