Whisper of Deceit

By Pamela M. Parry

When French vineyard owner and man of the house Charles Beaufort is thrown in prison for the smuggling of contraband from France to England, he leaves his familyand their vineyardwith little hope of survival. Sophie, his English-born wife, is resourceful, however, and she arranges for a close friend of the family to help her and the two Beaufort daughters work the land.

Soon, Sophie decides it would be good for her eldest daughter, Yvette, to broaden her horizons and see other parts of Europe. She sends Yvette to a manor in Buckinghamshire, England, far from the familiar French culture she knows and loves. She is to play companion to the lady of the house, Mrs. Constance Devereux.

Life in England is not what Yvettes mother would have hoped, as the young woman is soon encircled by deceit, frustration, and even a terrifying death threat. Yvette is a hesitant player in the intrigues of Devereux Manor. She must find a way back to her home, but will the house and its mystery let her leave?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Jan 18, 2011
• ISBN: 9781426947889

Pamela M. Parry

Pamela M. Parry was born and raised in England, where she became an avid reader of English literature. She moved to Saskatchewan, Canada, in 1972, where she took writing courses and acted as secretary for the Victoria Writers’ Society. She currently resides in Victoria, British Columbia. Of Deadly Intent is her fourth novel.

Book preview

Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 1

Bordeaux, October – 1892

Yvette Beaufort could never remember a time when she hadn’t felt comfortable in her beautiful home situated in a valley just a few miles south of Bordeaux. Her father, Charles, owned a vineyard, handed down from generation to generation, lovingly cared for and bringing in good revenues since its inception three generations ago.

Over the years, she had acquired the basics on the running of such an enterprise through the wonderful patience of her father. When the vineyard was first established many years ago, local labourers had been hired and this practise had been handed down through each generation resulting in trusted, loyal workers earning good wages. It seemed they had an actual ‘feel’ for what they were doing, which boded well for the final outcome of the business. This practise was continued up to the present time. Most of the workers lived within a few miles of the vineyard and Charles, being a fair-minded man, had earned their respect.

Charles Beaufort was an astute and loyal Frenchman. Born and raised at the vineyard, he’d met his wife, Sophie Reynolds while attending an English college in his early twenties. They’d married and despite Sophie’s parents’ objections, moved to the vineyard. Although Charles was a good, patient teacher Sophie could only tolerably understand French; she had difficulty conversing comfortably in the language as she’d never been able to master the ability to think in French.

Yvette arrived into the world just a year later. That was nineteen years ago and during that time Charles had made sure his pretty English wife understood how to manage the vineyard. She took care of the paperwork, loving every minute in following the process from its inception. Apart from the very capable cook, Anna, the only times Sophie had had to resort to outside help was when Yvette, and later her second child, Aimee had been born. During those times Charles’s long time friends, Jules and Marie Aumont, who had an adjoining vineyard, helped run the Beaufort vineyard while Sophie convalesced. Their warm friendship to both Yvette and Aimee had endured throughout their lives and both girls had come to regard their three sons with affection.

Along with their native French language, it was decided to teach the girls English as Sophie found great difficulty mastering French sufficiently to be able to converse with them during their babyhood. As a result, the children were now bilingual, speaking mostly English within their own home.

Yvette remembered when she was about eleven years old that dreadful time when Papa’s older brother, her Uncle Louis and his wife, Isabella had decided to take a long deserved holiday alone together to somewhere in Austria. While they were away, Papa and Mama took care of their three children, Marietta, the eldest at ten, Alain just seven and the youngest Lucie at five. Yvette had been assigned to watch over them and enjoyed the change from learning all about the vineyard. She also knew it took much of the onus off Mama in caring for them. There were times when Aimee played games with them on the little lawn outside the Kitchen window and during those moments, Yvette would take up some duties in the Kitchen, or help pick grapes from the heavily laden vines.

She sighed. The whole family had become very fond of the children, but it was about a week later when a telegram arrived to say that Uncle Louis and Aunt Isabella had been tragically killed in a train accident near the Austrian Alps.

As Charles was the nearest relative, he and Sophie took the three children under their wing until further arrangements could be made for them. They all attended the small village school a few miles from the vineyard and one day while the children were seated in the assembly hall for morning prayers, one of the boilers blew up in the lower room and the whole school exploded in flames taking teachers and all the students with it. There had been an investigation made which finally concluded the explosion could only have been caused by spontaneous combustion. The janitor had been held responsible by overloading the boiler causing a gas to form, but as he, too, had perished in the accident, no further accusations were made.

She shuddered as she recalled the funerals of all those who’d died and could only be thankful that Aimee hadn’t attended school that day. Mama had kept her home as the day before Aimee had been complaining of a sore throat and by next morning it had turned into a sneezing, runny nosed cold.

The dreadful loss of the children so close on the heels of their parents sank the family into bleak sorrow and the mourning period lasted well over a year. It was only the constant pressure of the vineyard that finally snapped Charles and Sophie out of their heartache.

Grief for the Beauforts wasn’t to end there, however, as three years later, Marie Aumont passed away suddenly from blood poisoning contracted from a vicious snake bite. Whenever Yvette recalled the event, she shuddered with sadness at the loss of such a vibrant woman, leaving behind a loving husband and three adoring sons.

All of this occurred at a time when profits were escalating for the Beaufort Vineyard. They’d produced excellent, succulent grapes and their wine had been much in demand. Yvette recalled her father saying that if they continued to prosper in this manner, he’d be able to expand the business by purchasing more land and buying more, and perhaps a different variety of grape.

That night when darkness still shrouded the countryside, Yvette awoke with a start. She was normally a light sleeper and most noises that awakened her could be readily accounted for. A creak of the floorboard when either of her parents had to get up for whatever reason in the night; or perhaps the pitter-patter of heavy raindrops on the windowpanes. Whatever it was, it only ever resulted in her turning over and slipping back into yet another dream.

This time it was different and she sat up. It was dark in the medium sized bedroom she and Aimee shared and at first she had no idea what had caused this unusual occurrence. However, as nothing stirred in the house, she decided it was destined to remain a mystery. She turned over in the comfortable bed, but just as her head touched the pillow and she’d closed her eyes, she suddenly heard a noise like a loud pop. Frowning she roused herself again, leaned up on one elbow and listened. She shrugged as no other noise could be heard, but as she was about to snuggle down between the sheets once more, she was certain she heard more noises. Noises like scuffling of feet, then someone shouted which perked her up enough to have her decide to investigate.

Quietly, she stepped onto the thin carpet that spanned a portion of the floor beside her bed and moved towards the window where the half open draperies let in hazy moonlight. Carefully drawing them aside, she gazed out. In the faint light given out by a crescent moon she could see a torrent of activity about half a mile southwest of the property line. She felt her heart suddenly plummet as she heard the frightened braying of a donkey. This could only lead to one thing—another illegal rendezvous. She couldn’t see much from her vantage point, but knew she had to sit there on the padded wooden seat beside the bay window—she’d never be able to sleep now.

Yvette and Aimee were very much aware who were responsible for these manoeuvres, yet they had been very careful over the past few years to keep their counsel regarding this unlawful activity from their parents. Yvette longed to discuss this with them because despite the furtiveness required in these behaviours and the fact that no words were ever spoken in the house, she knew Papa had some involvement. She wished he would bring to an end his association with these men. The knowledge that he was taking unnecessary risks worried both of his children considerably. They wanted to deter him; make him see reason, but … after all, he was a grown man, he had to know what was right and wrong, didn’t he?

The girls had found out by accident that Jules Aumont had been the ring-leader in the illicit smuggling of raw wool and fine Nottinghamshire lace transported by fishing vessel from Romney Marsh in southern England to the shores laying some distance south of Le Havre, while the Beauforts and Aumonts exchanged large quantities of wine and brandy for the English. It seemed to have worked out well for many years. Jules’s sons, Dominic 26, Pierre, 24 and André, 21 had also been involved making it a profitable enterprise beneficial to the two vineyards.

Unbeknown to her parents, Yvette had learned a little about the consequences if smugglers were seized. She knew that these exploits had been common practise for decades throughout most European countries as taxes were extortionate for commodities like these; smugglers between France and England took enormous risks to get their exports delivered without the Customs and Excise authorities intervening. Everyone knew the law enforcers were constantly on the alert for smuggling activity along the beautiful coastline, but over the years, Charles and Jules had been clever at concealing their involvement. Yvette had on many occasions heard them speak in low tones that they owed a lot of their success to the many friends both outside and within the legal system who counter-watched to make certain the contraband would not be intercepted by the law—thereby ensuring a good percentage of the bounty for themselves.

One night two years ago, when the weather, which had been fine earlier in the day, had turned to torrential rain, one of the donkeys carrying the merchandise up the steep gravel slope from the cove, had missed its footing and slipped sideways. He couldn’t keep his balance and Jules, who had been walking alongside it, had been caught by the animal knocking him down and falling on his hip. It had left him with a lifelong disability which made it impossible for him to actively take part in transporting the cargo to his vast vineyard’s cellars once it had reached the quiet, lonely cove. It was then that Charles Beaufort had taken over the reins.

Sophie was fearful when her husband began engaging in such exploits, but was careful not to relay her fear to her daughters, for Charles and she had not mentioned anything to them of their father’s involvement. It would have been better had she talked to them, because both girls knew what was going on. Yvette especially worried because she had a special bond with her Papa. Perhaps it was because she was the first born—whatever it was, she only knew she loved him dearly. Those sparkling hazel eyes so like hers that crinkled warmly when he smiled could melt even the hardest heart. His gentle manners with the three females in the house surprised many of his friends who tended to treat their women more as chattels than human beings. Charles had never done that—it endeared every woman he met to him, maybe causing some tension among their menfolk. Yet everyone appeared to have nothing but kind words for the likeable Charles Beaufort.

Sophie, of course, could not convince her husband to relinquish his involvement with these dangerous liaisons on the beach on those nights when the exchange of contraband was made. He’d been adamant that nothing would go wrong and she should stop worrying. In the end, she gave up. It made no sense to continue harassing him; she knew him well enough to curb her disquiet, so carried on with her work around the vineyard as if nothing untoward was happening.

Yvette knew about her parents’ disagreements and the thought saddened her that the only time they ever argued was when Charles ventured once again on a precarious rendezvous on the beach on some moonlit night. She sighed. As they had no idea she and Aimee knew about it, there was little they could do to smooth the waters.

All these thoughts passed through Yvette’s mind very quickly and it wasn’t until she heard and eventually saw a rider thunder up the slope towards the house that she became aware the activity on the road below the vineyard had lessened. She heard someone rapping on the back door and a moment later she heard her mother hurrying down the stairs.

She turned to see Aimee standing quietly behind her. Est il un autre rendez-vous, Yvette? Aimee said.

Oui, c’est un rendez-vous et nous devons faire attention, Cheri. There’s been another rendez-vous, Aimee. But now someone’s coming! I fear what we may hear so must find out what it’s all about. Get your robe and hurry. I can hear disturbing noises downstairs.

The sisters gathered their robes and together ran downstairs as fast as they could. When they arrived in the Parlour, it was to see Sophie sobbing and the slim, commanding figure of Jules’s youngest son, André cradling her shuddering body in his arms.

Yvette turned away from him to look directly at her mother drowning in tears. Papa! She cried. It’s Papa isn’t it? Where is he? Ce qui s’est produit?

Il y a eu un accident. André said, turning. His alluring brown eyes held sadness and there was a break in his voice. Dominic est mort.

Yvette felt the blood drain from her face. Dead? How? What happened? You must tell us! And where’s Papa? Her heart plummeted as a brief image of André’s handsome, quick-witted older brother fluttered cross her mind.

André settled their mother on the sofa and came towards the two girls standing forlorn and shaking near the doorway. His eyes softened as he searched Yvette’s face and caught first her hand, then Aimee’s in both of his. We were found … he said in English for Sophie’s benefit. He paused at the puzzled expression Yvette conveyed to him then glanced at the sobbing woman on the chair, believing these affairs had not been divulged to her children. He sighed. You haven’t told them? Sophie shook her head and wiped her red, damp eyes with a kerchief she’d pulled from her pocket. Then you girls must be made aware of it now. My family and your Papa have been involved in smuggling over the past few years …

We … know, Yvette said in a small voice, Aimee and I have known for a long time, so you don’t have to explain to us. Just … tell us what happened. She pulled her hands from his and reached over to draw Aimee into her embrace.

We were found, André repeated, … someone betrayed us. Dominic tried to escape, but one of the gendarmes drew his gun and shot him. At first we thought it was just a graze—that the gendarme had missed, but then in the pale moonlight we could see the large spreading dark wound staining his jacket. He … died instantly. He choked slightly, but rallied quickly with a slight cough. Your Papa tried to jump down from the cart, but was grabbed and has been taken away. We’re not sure where he is at the moment. The last we saw of him, he was very much alive. He pulled the two shocked girls into his arms. The odour of dirt and sweat wafted towards Yvette but she didn’t flinch as she might have done on any another occasion. She was well aware that this young man and the others had been labouring vigorously before this tragic occurrence had taken place.

Poor Dominic. She murmured against his rumpled jacket. Is your Papa aware of this?

He nodded. Pierre’s doing that right now. I thought it best to let you know about our brother and why your Papa won’t be home tonight.

Yvette felt a horrible pulsing, thudding in her ears and her heart seemed to be skipping a beat; her eyes, she knew, held shock along with tears. Dominic—dead! In a flash, she conjured up a hazy image of a laughing young man, easy-going and comical. He was full of happiness, his smile contagious—no-one could harbour sad thoughts or be unhappy for long if Dominic Aumont was anywhere around. She let the tears flow. Oh, how she’d miss him …

A noise behind made Yvette turn as Anna, the middle-aged housekeeper, came into the room carrying a large silver tray complete with cognac and fruit juices for everyone. In her usual kind manner she’d included some of the home-made plum cake left over from yesterday.

I thought you might be in need of some sustenance, Madame. She said, laying the tray on a table beside Sophie. She glanced over at André, her expression downcast. I am indeed very sorry to hear about your dear brother, Monsieur Aumont. Please give my condolences to your Papa.

André nodded. Thank you Anna. I will convey that to him the moment I return home. He leaned over to pick up a glass of the golden cognac, tossing it back in one gulp.

Anna’s face was bleached white, her dark eyes round with shock. Yvette knew Anna had always had an especially soft spot for Dominic Aumont—this news, indeed, would reduce her to tears, something the woman would never normally have let the family witness. Anna took a deep breath and quickly left the room. Yvette knew it was because she was close to tears and wouldn’t wish to embarrass herself. Yet everyone in that room would understand Anna’s distress at hearing such devastating news.

Yvette watched her close the door, thinking what a treasure their housekeeper was. Anna had always been there to care for them and they relied on her heavily. Now, nearing sixty years of age, she was slowing down, but still that indomitable energy surfaced in times of crisis—as it was doing now. The Beauforts were grateful for her solid support and Yvette knew her mother would be completely lost if Anna hadn’t joined them all those years ago, when she had first arrived at the vineyard as a young bride.

Where has Charles gone, do you know, André? Mama said at length.

He shrugged. I can only assume they’ve taken him into custody.

To the … prison. Her voice held horror.

It’s a long journey to the nearest prison, Madame Sophie; I would think he’s been taken to the gendarmerie in Le Havre …

But … that’s almost as bad. Mama cried, making to stand up, but deciding against it almost as quickly.

André shrugged. They are not as harsh in this area on smugglers as they are in other parts of the country… he said, trying to ease her discomfort. Once Papa has recovered from the shock of losing Dominic, I know he will work ceaselessly to make sure Monsieur Charles is released as quickly as possible. He paused and appeared to be going to add something, but changed his mind.

Yvette glanced at him, knowing the only way Jules could get Papa released would be to talk to the Prison Commandant, yet, despite what André had told Mama, Yvette had read much about this area and the way they treated smugglers. She also knew they were as ruthless as any of the others. In this case, she failed to see how Papa, even in his highly respectable position in Society, could escape the brutality usually meted out in such cases.

She turned away wondering suddenly if she would ever see her dear Papa again. She felt a burning sensation behind her eyes and drew the sleeve of her robe across them irritably. Tears wouldn’t help him. Crying was the biggest waste of time; it never accomplished anything.

Yvette pursed her lips, intending now to be strong for Mama and Aimee. Without Papa to guide them and with Mama so vulnerable at the moment, it seemed Yvette would have to be the rock for everyone to lean on once André had returned home.

CHAPTER 2

When Dominic had been laid to rest in the local churchyard, Jules Aumont began grilling the authorities of the local Gendarmeries, but no matter how many people he talked to, or how annoyed he became, he was no nearer to finding out where Charles Beaufort was incarcerated. The Beaufort family’s frustration and increasing fear didn’t help in the running of the vineyard.

Sophie had developed an uncharacteristic short fuse as Yvette and Aimee found out on numerous occasions often resulting in pent up emotions becoming hostile to the point where nothing was ever resolved. These explosive disagreements began spilling over to include the vineyard workers. The crews, aware of this hostility among the owners, began arguing among themselves sometimes culminating in vicious fights. One of the last workers to arrive at the vineyard, a hefty man of around forty, Jacques DuPont, began a fight that resulted in one of the more easy-going workers suffering a broken nose. Sophie had no option but to send DuPont on his way with the words that he must never again set foot on the property. With the ever increasing fear for her husband, Sophie had no need of trouble-makers upsetting what was already a very distressing situation.

With one less crew member the work became more arduous for the remaining grape pickers. This also meant that Sophie, Yvette and Aimee had to take turns in gathering the crops as there appeared no other willing helpers available. This extra work resulted in longer hours, tiredness and irritability with one another. Some days, Aimee would have to miss school and would be so exhausted at night, she’d collapse on her bed in a deluge of tears; she was losing weight and her skin was taking on an almost translucent aura. Yvette and her mother began to seriously worry about her state of health.

Sophie eventually approached Jules to see if there was any way in which he could help them take care of the vineyard during this unsettling dilemma. Jules, in his usual calm manner arranged to have Pierre help whenever he could spare him and soon Dominic’s more serious brother began to piece things together, making life considerably more tolerable. With frequent visits from their doctor, Aimee’s health began to improve and the hostility and short tempers eventually diminished. She began to put on a little weight and the colour finally returned to her cheeks.

Yvette knew that her mother suffered greater during the night. Without her husband beside her, she couldn’t sleep and could often be heard weeping in her bedroom. It was heart-rending to hear her and Yvette longed to go into the room and drape her arms around her shaking shoulders in an attempt to offer some comfort, however, knowing the private person she was, Yvette didn’t dare venture into the bedroom. One day, perhaps, Mama would relax and allow one or both of her girls to help her.

One night when Yvette passed her mother’s bedroom door on her way back from the washing room, she heard her murmuring. The door was slightly ajar and Yvette had peeped through the small space to see her mother in prayer, kneeling reverently beside her bed, her hands clasped tightly together. Yvette had felt a sliver of guilt at witnessing the poignant scene, and crept silently back to her own room. As she slipped between the sheets, she knew her mother would continue in that manner until Papa was safe home again.

A few days later, Sophie called her two children to her. It was one of those unusually warm early October afternoons, when it was decided to take some refreshment onto the veranda overlooking the vineyard, now in repose, resting up before the new season’s growth. Sophie put a packet on the table beside her and faced her children solemnly. The girls were puzzled by their mother’s attitude; she seemed edgy and uncertain which was not at all in her nature, especially when talking to her daughters. Yvette caught Aimee looking at their mother oddly.

My dears, Sophie began as they’d all converged around the white wooden table, I’m very worried about your dear papa, as I’m sure you are too. Not knowing his whereabouts has been constantly on my mind and having heard nothing from Jules, I’m afraid I’m beginning to fear the worst. She looked sadly into their bright, concerned eyes. I’ve been wondering what is to become of us if … Papa should not return. I will not be able to run the vineyard alone and have been considering amalgamating with Jules and the boys. Between us with the varieties of wine we produce, I think we may have a better chance to survive in this rather competitive world. She paused and glanced at Yvette. I haven’t as yet approached them, thinking at least I should talk to you first. If I do decide on this I thought it might be prudent if you found employment elsewhere.

She held up a hand at Yvette’s dismayed expression. I realise this isn’t going to sit comfortably with you, but I have given this a lot of heart-rending thought. I think, dear, that if the news regarding your Papa is not good, it may mean I’ll have to abandon the vineyard to either Jules or to sell it. Whatever is decided I think this might be a good opportunity for you to experience new horizons, new surroundings and even a new culture. I would like you to become acquainted with life as I used to know before your Papa and I met. As you know, I had no siblings and Mama passed away when I was a child so it was only my Papa who gave me any reason to be associated with England. When he died I no longer had any family connections with England, but … she paused, a sad light coming into her eyes, … I still love my birth-place; England means a lot to me and I would like you to go there, learn something of the country and its heritage. So … She paused again then opened up the package by her side. She pulled some papers from it and placed them on the table, swivelling them to face Yvette. I have taken the liberty, my dear, of getting hold of an employment agency. There doesn’t seem any suitable employment for you in this particular area, so thought it might be prudent to go to England. I understand there are many possibilities there.

Mama, Yvette’s face paled. Why didn’t you discuss this with me before contacting an employment agency? Had you really given any thought to what I may wish to do? Surely I have some say in my future? Isn’t this a little drastic? Surely if Papa is no longer here we can at least attempt to run it ourselves. Maybe later if this becomes impossible, then I could try and find some kind of employment. She paused. Why England, Mama? Why not here in Bordeaux or somewhere else in my own country …

I’ve already checked, Yvette. Sophie interrupted gently. There seems nothing at the moment to suit your abilities. Naturally I’m praying we don’t have to resort to this, but it’s been plaguing me for a long time now. Please bear with me, dear, and try and see my position. If anything has happened to your Papa, I will be unable to continue working at the vineyard with just Aimee. She has to attend school and possibly college later, which would mean the vineyard would not be run as efficiently with just me in charge, which would naturally culminate in loss of revenue. I would like to talk to Jules requesting some guidance as he knows our family so well. If it became necessary, perhaps he would consider purchasing our vineyard and combine it with his own. With Pierre and André to help, it might be a very prudent compromise; something of which I’m sure your Papa would approve.

If you had to sell then we would have to leave the … vineyard. Aimee said, fear suddenly appearing in her wide eyes. Yvette could see their world tumbling around them in the most unpleasant manner and felt sick. What would happen to us, Mama?

I had thought of that, Darling. Anna has agreed that if it became necessary she would take you, Aimee and me into the home she and her sister purchased years ago. It’s not that large by our standards, but I know it’s comfortable and they do have some gardens to roam around. Her sister is a fine gardener and seems to have a knack for growing all manner of plants, so I’m certain we wouldn’t be unhappy there. She glanced over at Yvette. But I fear dear, it would not suit a young woman like you, just starting out in life as an adult. Nothing much happens in Anna’s neighbourhood and I’m sure you’d soon be bored. It’s too far away from anywhere and it is right that you should be earning your own living should Papa not return. It may be that the vineyard would not flourish as it has been. She took a deep breath. So, Yvette dear, don’t be too hasty to refuse. One day, it may be possible for you to return, perhaps with a husband, and between you might be able to re-purchase it and take over where your Papa left off. Think about it and … please, she pushed the papers a little closer to Yvette, … please look these over before judging me too harshly.

Yvette frowned. I … don’t know. It seems you have it all planned nicely. You must understand that I know nothing of life in England, Mama. Luckily you and Papa have made us bilingual so the language would not be a problem, but, it’s one thing to know the language and quite another to live in a country where the culture is so different to what I’ve been used to. She looked at her mother, feeling tears burning behind her eyes, feeling as if her mother were intending to abandon her! She shook herself, knowing that Mama would never do such a thing. Why would you decide something like this without consulting me, Mama? She repeated, stubbornly. Don’t you think we should be able to discuss this rationally and in an adult manner?

Sophie sighed and sat back in the chair. It’s only a safeguard, Yvette. I’m praying constantly that this course of action may not be necessary, but you must understand, I have to have something positive in mind should it become apparent I cannot run the business any longer.

Yvette stood up and pushed the chair back roughly; sparks of anger coursed through her body. She considered this a preposterous idea as she had no desire to live in England. To be away from Mama and Aimee, Jules, Pierre and André! She’d only ever known the vineyard—what possible work could she find in England? Much as she loved Mama, she tried to understand her reasoning, but failed miserably.

Mama, I can’t understand why you’d thrust something so important on me in this manner. I really would have liked to have a say in this. I’m not comfortable for someone else to settle my life for me, even if it’s you, Mama. I know you mean well, but I would like to mould my own destiny … and I want to stay with you and Aimee. It might be difficult at first, I agree, but in time surely we could run the vineyard together, just the three of us. If we had any serious problems, I’m sure Jules would help. Yvette paused and put her hand on her mother’s gently. Mama, I believe anything is possible especially if we have Faith and I know you have a great deal of that as we all do!

Sophie shook her head. I’m sorry, Yvette, I know what you’re saying and I’m inclined to agree, but, well, lately the vineyard hasn’t been doing as well as it did a few years ago, even under your Papa’s fine direction. We didn’t tell you, because we thought it might just pick up, but now … not knowing … well, I want to know that everything will be well with you should it become necessary. You’d gain tremendous experience by working in England. It’s a wonderful country—

You talk as if Papa is dead! Mon Dieu, Mama, how could you even think like that! I can’t even consider such a proposal.

Sophie looked at her daughter sadly, tears once again forming near the surface. I … I don’t know where Papa is, Yvette and because of this, I have to think the worst. I’m hollow inside not knowing and need to keep myself occupied in planning an avenue to follow should he … never return! Sophie took a deep breath and continued. We have to turn to our Faith as we’ve done countless times before when hardship and uncertainties have plagued us. Somehow it saved us. We must pray that he will come back to us, then this conversation can be forgotten. Now please, Yvette … She thrust the papers closer to her daughter, … look at the few positions available on this form. I noticed one of them in particular is for a companion to an elderly lady. It sounds like a position you could handle well. Sophie turned one of the sheets around to face her, glanced at it and quickly turned it back to Yvette. She lives north of London. Remember, we did visit London some years ago when you and Aimee were on school holidays; you seemed to enjoy yourselves and got on well with the British people. She paused. This … plan, if you wish to call it that … is not something I particularly want for you, dear, but we have to look on the positive side; if one is prepared for the worst situation, it sometimes becomes easier to bear if or when it actually occurs. Some situations in life need sacrifices. Don’t be afraid of change, Yvette, you are young and would soon adapt. I’m not saying it wouldn’t be difficult for you at first, but once you know your duties, your surroundings and the people with whom you’ll be living, I feel confident you’ll do very well. She gave her daughter a tight smile. The English people aren’t ogres, dear. They don’t live in the middle ages like those that are portrayed in some of the history books you have had to read in school.

I … know that, Mama … Still it galled Yvette to think her mother had gone ahead with this idea before even mentioning it to her. She had no desire to find a position in a foreign land; among new people with new customs; on her own! Having led a sheltered existence working among friendly people learning the ropes of running the vineyard, she’d always envisioned the property would revert to her and Aimee one day. It was the only occupation Yvette knew or wanted to know! Taking totally different employment made her heart quicken in fear. This was her home; her life; her love. This beautiful place is Papa’s pride and joy; selfishly, she wondered how her mother could even think of selling even a portion of it to a stranger or, at best, to Jules Aumont.

Then Yvette thought about Aimee. She would soon be fifteen; growing up into a young lady. Yvette wanted to be there for her for those times when a sister can be such a tremendous confidante.

She faced her mother squarely, her face pale. Strangely enough, I do understand what you’re saying, Mama, but … I naturally wouldn’t wish you to sell it. It’s been in our family for so long. What on earth would Papa have thought … ? However, if you have to, to be able to keep it even partially, then I understand you’d approach Jules. She stopped and glanced across the garden where some sparrows were squabbling noisily over some piece of sweetmeats. She turned back to her mother, her face flushed. She felt uncomfortable, disliking this conversation every minute they were talking. By the sweat of Papa’s brow and the kindness in his heart, I couldn’t bear to think of anyone, even Jules, walking the lands, surveying the crops and virtually taking over everything that Papa worked for.

Yvette! You’re talking absolute nonsense. If something has happened to Papa, then how do you suggest I run this basically on my own with just you and Aimee to oversee the crops, not to mention finding wages for our workers and looking after the finances. Sophie shook her head and ran a hand through her hair in agitation. Her face began to redden and her voice took on a harsh note. Yvette was shocked. It was reminiscent of those days not so long ago when hostility had taken hold of them and she prayed those moments weren’t now destined to return. Sophie stood up. I want you to give this some serious thought, Yvette. Trust in my judgment and think of me when you consider this alternative. As I said before, with God’s help your Papa will return unharmed, but just in case he doesn’t, we’ll have an alternate course of action. We must pull together in this—please understand!

Aimee touched Yvette’s arm gently. Mama is only doing her best for us, Yvette. If Papa doesn’t return, we must go along with what she says. Neither Mama or I want you to go, but perhaps it’s right you should. You can always return if you are really unhappy in England …

Yes, Yvette. You would not be bound to stay there … Mama interrupted gently, if you found life intolerable, then come home.

Yvette stared between the two of them not wanting to believe what was being said, then hurried through the veranda doors into the Sitting Room. Her heart was hammering and her head hurt. She ran up to her room and slammed the door. Then before she realised what she was doing, she fell down on her knees and prayed as she’d never prayed before; with vehemence, pleading and multitudes of tears.

*  *  *

It took almost a week before Charles Beaufort’s whereabouts was established—and the knowledge made everything horrifically worse. Jules rode in on his stallion one morning when the rain was emptying over the vineyard causing slimy mud puddles and dripping trees. His face was haggard as he hurried into the warmth of the Kitchen where Sophie, Yvette and Aimee were discussing the menu with Anna. When he shook off his outerwear, he almost threw them at Anna, letting his wet hat slip to the floor, before facing each of them squarely.

My news is not good, my dear Sophie. He said, coming quickly forward and drawing her into his arms. Charles is … dead!

Sophie stared at him, stupefied, then cried out and stumbled before falling to the floor in shock. Unstoppable tears cascaded down both Yvette’s and Aimee’s faces as Jules slipped down on his knees to draw Sophie into his arms. He pushed through the Kitchen door into the Sitting Room and laid the distraught woman on the sofa. Aimee, picking up a newspaper on the table, began fanning Mama frantically, hardly able to see what she was doing as the tears were distorting her vision. Anna, standing unobtrusively in the open doorway, stepped into the room, her hands to her mouth, her face starkly white and she was trembling.

How? Yvette cried, her heart hammering alarmingly against the bodice of her gown. What happened? I thought André said he was alright when he last saw him … She too could hold back no longer, but fell against the side of the sofa, sobbing uncontrollably. She had been steeling herself against hearing such devastating news, not wanting to believe that Papa … dear sweet Papa, was dead!

Jules turned and caught hold of both Aimee’s and Yvette’s hands squeezing them comfortingly. He’d been transferred to a prison near Paris. The conditions were deplorable. He had a serious case of dysentery due, I suspect to the deplorable food they served. He began to weaken and caught the dreadful malaise. I think he knew he would never get out of there alive so decided to end it all before he was subjected to more suffering. He paused. I would probably have done the same thing, my dears; it must have been an intolerable burden to him, knowing that his family would have to tend the vineyard and care for all he’d built over the years, without him, but he obviously couldn’t see a way out by normal, legal means and anyway, he was too weak to try to escape. It must have been a hellish, desperate decision for him to make. He glanced down at