responded Tilly evasively.
The chambermaid hurriedly crossed herself, picked up her bucket and opened the door to her master’s apartment. ‘Well, best be getting back to work or I’ll be in big trouble. I still have to fetch a few more loads of water.’
‘Don’t you know where they went?’
‘Non,’ the servant replied before scuttling through the door.
Back inside, Tilly went in search of food and drink, discovering the leftover bread and jam on the breakfast table, and the spirit stove that she could use to make hot chocolate.
Tilly tried to coax Amelie to eat, but she refused, sipping on some warm chocolate. Mimi stole the piece of bread and jam that Tilly had prepared for Amelie and retreated to the top of the four-poster bed to eat it, ignoring Tilly’s scoldings.
Amelie smiled wanly, the first sign of life for some time.
When she had eaten, Tilly explained what the chambermaid had said about the servants packing up to move.
‘It seems they took everything valuable with them,’ Tilly added.
‘I told you they would have taken it all to Henri,’ Amelie explained. ‘Henri is the Comte now.’
Amelie dissolved into tears once more. Tilly stroked her arm.
‘Are you all right?’
Amelie shrugged. ‘’Tis not just my uncle and aunt, you know,’ Amelie began tentatively. ‘That was a dreadful shock. But it was also distressing to find the note from my maman. Tante Beatrice told me there was a note, but she could not find it.’
Tilly nodded, encouraging Amelie to continue.
‘I had a wonderful childhood. I loved my parents deeply – they were kind and gentle. We had a beautiful chateau surrounded by gardens and woodlands, where I would ride my pony and play. I had a younger brother and an older sister, Edouard and Marguerite.’
Amelie wrung her handkerchief between her fingers.
‘Everything seemed perfect, until one day Marguerite came down with a fever. Soon afterwards my brother became ill, and Maman’s worst fears were realised. It was smallpox. I was sent away, but Maman insisted on nursing Edouard and Marguerite herself. She could not save them. First Edouard, then Marguerite, then Maman, then Papa– they all died.’
‘Oh, Amelie,’ replied Tilly. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Amelie began to sob again, clutching at the ruby talisman around her throat. Tilly sat closer to her and held her other hand, trying to express her sympathy without words. After a moment, Amelie collected herself and went on.
‘I went to live with Tante Beatrice and my uncle, who was Papa’s older brother. You could not have two brothers who were more dissimilar. Papa was kind and generous, my uncle is – was – vain and selfish, and could not be bothered with the care of an orphan girl. I think he truly hated my father. Only Henri was nice to me. Then, when I was eleven, Tante Beatrice sent me away to a convent school.’
Amelie sighed, closing her eyes.
‘With my uncle at least I had my pony, and Henri, and the freedom to ride and play and read. But the convent was terrible. I felt so alone and abandoned. And that was my life until four months ago when Tante Beatrice sent for me to prepare for my presentation at court and my engagement to the Chevalier.’
Amelie smiled a wan little smile.
‘At least here I could ride and dance and wear pretty clothes. Now my aunt and uncle are dead; what will become of me? I suppose I will have to marry the Chevalier...’
Amelie began to cry again.
Tilly felt all her old anger rise up again at the thought of Amelie marrying the old, pompous Chevalier.
‘You can’t marry him,’ declared Tilly. ‘You must escape to England. You have to start a new life over there. The revolution has started and it’s going to get bad – really bad. You must leave France.’
‘Mais non, France is my home,’ wailed Amelie. ‘I cannot even speak Anglais – and they say Angleterre is cold and grey and rainy. It’s so far away. I won’t go there.’
Tilly huffed in
The chambermaid hurriedly crossed herself, picked up her bucket and opened the door to her master’s apartment. ‘Well, best be getting back to work or I’ll be in big trouble. I still have to fetch a few more loads of water.’
‘Don’t you know where they went?’
‘Non,’ the servant replied before scuttling through the door.
Back inside, Tilly went in search of food and drink, discovering the leftover bread and jam on the breakfast table, and the spirit stove that she could use to make hot chocolate.
Tilly tried to coax Amelie to eat, but she refused, sipping on some warm chocolate. Mimi stole the piece of bread and jam that Tilly had prepared for Amelie and retreated to the top of the four-poster bed to eat it, ignoring Tilly’s scoldings.
Amelie smiled wanly, the first sign of life for some time.
When she had eaten, Tilly explained what the chambermaid had said about the servants packing up to move.
‘It seems they took everything valuable with them,’ Tilly added.
‘I told you they would have taken it all to Henri,’ Amelie explained. ‘Henri is the Comte now.’
Amelie dissolved into tears once more. Tilly stroked her arm.
‘Are you all right?’
Amelie shrugged. ‘’Tis not just my uncle and aunt, you know,’ Amelie began tentatively. ‘That was a dreadful shock. But it was also distressing to find the note from my maman. Tante Beatrice told me there was a note, but she could not find it.’
Tilly nodded, encouraging Amelie to continue.
‘I had a wonderful childhood. I loved my parents deeply – they were kind and gentle. We had a beautiful chateau surrounded by gardens and woodlands, where I would ride my pony and play. I had a younger brother and an older sister, Edouard and Marguerite.’
Amelie wrung her handkerchief between her fingers.
‘Everything seemed perfect, until one day Marguerite came down with a fever. Soon afterwards my brother became ill, and Maman’s worst fears were realised. It was smallpox. I was sent away, but Maman insisted on nursing Edouard and Marguerite herself. She could not save them. First Edouard, then Marguerite, then Maman, then Papa– they all died.’
‘Oh, Amelie,’ replied Tilly. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Amelie began to sob again, clutching at the ruby talisman around her throat. Tilly sat closer to her and held her other hand, trying to express her sympathy without words. After a moment, Amelie collected herself and went on.
‘I went to live with Tante Beatrice and my uncle, who was Papa’s older brother. You could not have two brothers who were more dissimilar. Papa was kind and generous, my uncle is – was – vain and selfish, and could not be bothered with the care of an orphan girl. I think he truly hated my father. Only Henri was nice to me. Then, when I was eleven, Tante Beatrice sent me away to a convent school.’
Amelie sighed, closing her eyes.
‘With my uncle at least I had my pony, and Henri, and the freedom to ride and play and read. But the convent was terrible. I felt so alone and abandoned. And that was my life until four months ago when Tante Beatrice sent for me to prepare for my presentation at court and my engagement to the Chevalier.’
Amelie smiled a wan little smile.
‘At least here I could ride and dance and wear pretty clothes. Now my aunt and uncle are dead; what will become of me? I suppose I will have to marry the Chevalier...’
Amelie began to cry again.
Tilly felt all her old anger rise up again at the thought of Amelie marrying the old, pompous Chevalier.
‘You can’t marry him,’ declared Tilly. ‘You must escape to England. You have to start a new life over there. The revolution has started and it’s going to get bad – really bad. You must leave France.’
‘Mais non, France is my home,’ wailed Amelie. ‘I cannot even speak Anglais – and they say Angleterre is cold and grey and rainy. It’s so far away. I won’t go there.’
Tilly huffed in
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