The Turning of the Tide

By A. B. Dixon

Serious French Canadian Mr. Richardieux and spiteful though lively British Lady Aubrey Kingston appear an unlikely match in Ottawa on the eve of the First World War. Their aristocratic relationship will be tried as Canada is torn apart by its two families in the young dominion's struggle to attain nationhood on the plains of its forefathers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Nov 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9780228838685

A. B. Dixon

A. B. Dixon was born in Burnaby, British Columbia. Dixon spent her childhood listening to the war stories of Canadian veterans, including her grandfathers and great-grandfathers, who served in the two World Wars. An avid reader whose favourite subject is history, she had long observed that there are few novels concerning Canadian veterans, and she wondered why she could not read more "about them." Dixon studied Arts and Science at the University of Saskatchewan where she left her degree to pursue a lifelong ambition to be an author. Although she did not realize the coincidence at the time, Dixon became an author on August 4th, 2014, one hundred years to the day after Canada entered World War I. The Turning of the Tide is her first novel.

Book preview

The Christmas Ball

Lady Aubrey Kingston was, on the surface, everything a lady should be. However, beneath her porcelain skin was a female as conceited and vindictive as she was wealthy. The Kingstons’ sprawling estate, Pembina, was located not far from the dominion’s capital of Ottawa. Aubrey awoke in her bedroom, where outside, the snow fell lightly that bright December morning of 1913. In her morning frock, Aubrey descended the grand staircase.

Morning prayer was usually in the chapel, but, because it was winter, everyone gathered in the main hall. Her grandfather, Emmett Kingston, was speaking quietly to the butler. Llewellyn was refined and tall. He had toned shoulders and silver-grey hair. Dismissed, the numerous servants made for the green baize door.

Did you sleep well, sweet pea? said Emmett with his Bible in his hand. The second question was invariably, What was morning prayer about?

God, Aubrey and Emmett said in unison.

Emmett answered his own question, given he was the only one who could. God only gives his biggest battles to his strongest soldiers. A retired Admiral from His Majesty’s Navy, he was forever speaking in terms of warfare. Emmett continued, The biggest battles usually mean suffering. These men are stripped of all integrity, dignity, and pride. However, their character will always remain. And although the most horrid thing the devil has ever done is convince the world he does not exist, and bear in mind he will always encourage a man when acting wrongly, he will never attack more than at two distinct times. The first: when acting righteously. This is why the strongest are given the greatest battles, for only they can survive the full force of the devil. The second is when a man attempts to abandon the evil one’s side, that is to say, by becoming a good or far better person. There is no greater show on earth than this one. God will even wage war for one. For in a battle against good and evil, character will always prevail, even in warfare.

How does He choose these people? Aubrey asked.

There are two types of males in this world: gentlemen and cowards. And birth, money, titles, or land have nothing to do with either. A man only reveals his integrity, or a country its character, under duress — particularly when he is about to die.

Emmett continued, A gentleman will stand and fight, will go towards a battle and offer his services.

What of those who stand in neutrality? asked Aubrey.

‘The darkest place in Hell is reserved for those who maintain their neutrality in times of moral crisis.’ And these people, sweet pea, are cowards.

But why are there battles at all? asked Aubrey.

All I can say to that is because the devil exists. But, it matters not to a gentleman the predicament; he will do what is right until the end. You do not always know who the real gentlemen are, and they are usually the most unsuspecting—

And there are so few of them here stuck in the backwaters of the— interrupted Aubrey.

In this part of the Kingdom, doing the right thing of one’s own volition makes all the difference to these colonials, and you ought to commend them for that, Emmett finished.

Their neighbours, the Laurentiens, were hosting their annual and famed Christmas Eve ball the following evening. Because she was seventeen, Aubrey was permitted to attend the dinner but not the ball. Aubrey had grown up with the twelve Laurentien children and the two families regarded one another as family. Emmett made the exception for her to attend the greatest of all Edwardian shows: the dinner party.

Why can’t I attend the ball? said she.

Violent delights often have violent ends. No balls until you come of age, was her grandfather’s reply.

What if an English gentleman, a man like Peter, for instance, is without a partner and I could dance with him?

He might be English, but he is no gentleman.

But what do you mean? she cried.

A gentleman leads solely from the front, for one. Another mark of a gentleman, or a gentlewoman, is he will remain calm when he knows the battle is lost. He will not show the devil fear even in the worst circumstances. The devil flourishes off fear. This also shows true defiance to the devil after what he does to you. As well, a gentleman will not allow himself to be indebted to another in character.

But you must want me to marry an aristocrat?

Of course, no one else would do for my little girl. But when the time would come to have a proper conversation for Peter’s gentleman’s agreement to take care of you, I would not have it from him.

But he is one of the finest gentlemen here! Aubrey contradicted.

The Edwards were one of the most ancient families in England.

A man has to be a gentleman to enter into such a contract, Emmett explained. A gentleman will honour his word until the end. Besides, you want a man who will go after you, who will be faithful to you, who will fight for you. Peter will not do as such.

Later in the day, Aubrey was near Emmett’s study and heard a conversation through the door that was slightly ajar. Emmett and his fellow Sons of England members were enjoying their brandy.

Another meeting with the Richardieux, said Sir Westbrook, the father of her dearest friend, Letitia, pet named Lady Bird. Seraphin, the brilliant businessman he is, was not able to attend the meeting. He stayed in Quebec City. He sent his son instead. The son has a funny name. What was it? No matter. The son’s as proud as Lucifer. And, of course, Richardieux is grooming him to take over their family’s business. The son is divorced! I am not aware of a single other family with a divorce to their name. I would never let my Letitia near a male like that. And he refuses to learn English, so we had a translator. He gave no apologies for that inconvenience. He said with a snort into his tea, Typical Frenchman: refuses to be part of our Empire. Honestly, he continued, If this colony ever goes to war, there’ll be conscription because the French will refuse to fight.

The voices of the other gentlemen could be heard as they all laughed softly at the outlandish joke.

Thank God he said he would return to Quebec as soon as the meeting adjourned this morning—

Emmett stood before Aubrey at the door. Come in, Aubrey.

Emmett, Sir Westbrook, and tall Mr. Lawrence rose to greet her. Emmett explained she was on vacation from Sacred Heart Academy in Regina.

When Aubrey, an only child, was very young, her parents died while abroad on vacation. She had little recollection of her vain father or cold mother. Aubrey became the ward of her paternal grandmother, Gran. Aubrey’s maternal grandfather, a widower who became childless with the passing of his daughter, suggested the orphaned grandchild live with him in Ottawa, where he retired. Gran, who did not like girls, was happy to rid herself of her charge. Aubrey adored Emmett for the father figure that he was to her. The pair had a close bond.

What are your ambitions after your studies? inquired Westbrook, a middle-aged, portly man with a kind, fatherly disposition.

To marry was the answer of a proper lady and the one she gave.

Right, he said and encouraged her on. You plan to return to Ottawa until you find a suitable husband. Nor do you care to attend University. That shows true intelligence and none of this wanting the vote, he stated with an impatient wave of hand. That is a major problem right now in Parliament. All these suffragettes campaigning for the vote, claiming equal rights for women. You are not a suffragette. You are a lady. After complimenting Aubrey, he turned to Emmett, You have done a fine job raising her, and practically on your own, he added with a smile.

Such intelligence, beauty, and charm before us. Any man would be lucky to have her, said Lawrence. His sack suit was the smartest of the three, against his strong, handsome frame, dark, sharp features, and dashing blue eyes. She returned the smile.

Pembina faded while Aubrey rode to the outer part of Vauréal, the Laurentiens’ estate. Vauréal’s property was larger than Pembina, and Aubrey loved it almost as much as her own estate. She loved winter the most of all the seasons and the time of year suited her; her personality was cold.

Aubrey rode past the oak grove that was the boys’ favourite part of their estate. Aubrey looked in the distance and saw a lone rider. The stranger had stopped at the creek. The gentleman was allowing his thoroughbred to drink from the creek. However, a tree had fallen across the path. The creek was partially blocked.

The gentleman seemed so tall he would have to bow to enter a regular doorway. She thought best not to speak to the stranger, especially if Emmett were to know of her riding alone. The gentleman turned around at the sound of Aubrey’s approaching horse.

After she rode some way with her cape billowing behind her, she turned back to look at the rider. His hands were straight in the air and he wore a large smile. A voice called out to her. She did not catch what he said, though it was obvious what he thought of her from his tone of sheer amusement. Not only had she ridden farther than he but she, a lady, had cleared a leap.

With anger she could never quite contain, Aubrey forgot herself in the heat of battle. She turned her horse around to face the rider. Palms up, she shrugged to indicated she was indifferent to what he thought of her. The abhorrent gesture seemed to spur the gentleman. He called out again. She turned her hand topsy-turvy to indicate he was merely satisfactory. Then, she threw her hands behind her, over her head and let them fall in front as though to say, Nevermind. She turned her horse and took off at a gallop down the trail. The stranger was left standing with his arms still in the air and the widest smile.

The following evening, at Vauréal, all guests, if not from England, were of Upper Canada Gentry. The Laurentiens had been in Canada these few centuries. Mr. Michel Laurentien was a short though strong man, with dark features and eyes. His children looked very similar to him, far more so than they did their mother. He was a well-known lawyer from a respectable family. Lady Bird was immediately at Aubrey’s side. As chirpy as a bird when a little girl and already envious of her mother’s title of ‘Lady,’ and Lady Bird she became. Lady Bird was taller than Aubrey, though not overly so, with high cheekbones, dark hair, and green-blue eyes with flecks of hazel in them. If not for her true nature — she was rather rotten on the inside — she would be considered a very handsome girl. The pair looked in earnest for their other intimate, Peter.

Wreaths and holly lined the four railings of the second floor. In front of the enormous Christmas tree on the main floor were two of the Lawrences, the dashing Edmund and Lindsay. Both were slightly taller than their father, which meant both sons were slightly closer to seven feet than to six. The two could pass for twins if not for a difference of a few inches in height, and Edmund, the eldest, had slightly darker brown hair than Lindsay. Heir to his father’s estate and with his father’s handsome features, it is a wonder Edmund has yet to marry, Aubrey thought. They were with the Harringtons: Hugh, Harry, Henrietta, Herbert, and Herbert’s new bride, Philippa Tomryn.

With Philippa’s hourglass figure and coveted chestnut-brown hair, she was a stunning beauty. Aubrey’s hourglass frame was not equal to Philippa’s. However, Aubrey was still thought to be handsome by most. Aubrey had dark, though rich, brown hair that accented her royal blue eyes to a lovely degree. Henrietta was tall, taller than Aubrey, but thin, and she had unfortunate blond hair.

Then came the harsh and haughty voice of Peter Edwards, who came over to Aubrey and Lady Bird. Malevolence was the thread that held the small band of friends together. Peter was not tall, had plain brown hair, a similar eye colour, and a pompous air about him. Aubrey looked over to Emmett while Peter and Lady Bird launched into conversation of their invitations to skate at Rideau Hall. Emmett was endeared by all and possessed the rare attribute of speaking to master and servant in the same tone. He was always one of the tallest men in the room and, Aubrey thought, one of the most handsome. Her grandfather was an imposing man who had wide shoulders, even in old age, elegant features, and bright green eyes. He looked over at her and returned her smile. The Lawrences were British aristocrats. The Harringtons were Canadian industrialists. The Harringtons were a small family of four children, all blond-haired and taller than average.

The trio moved to the main room. Lady Bird snickered about Philippa’s transformation even though the article entirely matched Philippa’s hair colour.

Étienne, the eldest of the Laurentiens, came to Aubrey’s side. He stood just taller than Aubrey with dark green eyes. The rest of his features he inherited from his father. Étienne said, There is someone I want you to meet. Our fathers are cousins. Very peculiar he is here at all, considering we have not seen him since we were children. He is so busy with work; he will not even play a game of hockey with us. He extended his stay in Ottawa. Father says this is, to be sure, his first vacation! He has never been to a family reunion. But he wanted to be here tonight, and no one can seem to understand why. He wanted to stay for the ball — father said he did not dance at his own wedding.

The butler, Thierry, a small, older, and kindly man, announced, Mr. Aurelien Richardieux.

The moment Richardieux bowed in order to enter the doorway, all jollities came to an end. One could tell a gentleman by his walk, and this one harboured arrogance most unbecoming to his class. The slicked, chestnut-brown hair, thick eyebrows, and mustache complimented his strong jawline and cheekbones. The crisp white bow tie and black tails against his powerful frame soon had more than just Aubrey, though grudgingly, admiring him.

A frigid bow, by way of greeting, came from her. A kiss on either cheek, too long to be considered gentlemanly, was indulged in by him. The man had nearly the most handsome French accent she had ever heard. Later, even Peter could not make fun of this man’s accent; his voice was dashing. His steel-grey eyes seemed to find her amusing, though he did not smile. After conversing a short while with Aubrey, Étienne and Richardieux excused themselves to obtain their name cards from Thierry.

Lady Bird whispered to Aubrey, Apparently Richardieux is as notorious a womanizer as his father. Richardieux’s divorce was the scandal of Quebec City the whole year and all over the front pages of the papers. Naturally, both parties had to leave the dominion for a year. She went to France. He went to Switzerland, I think so, given he was thrown quite upon his honour by her father — branded a cad for life.

She had never been introduced to someone who was divorced.

Mme. Laurentien did not wish to offend anyone with Richardieux present, being that he was divorced, and since Aubrey was the youngest lady, she was paired to be escorted by and seated with Richardieux at dinner.

The shaded candles cast an intimate glow the length of the elaborate dining room. Lady Bird had recently been to a dinner party that had electricity. She said she positively looked a hundred years old. Emmett sat opposite Francis Lawrence. He looked similar to his brothers, except for he had inherited his father’s eyes while his brothers had brown eyes. Francis had recently taken the bar. His aim was to enter politics, much like his father.

Emmett said gravely to Francis, England’s influence and dominance have remained steadfast these centuries. When I first came here, Canada was a mere colony. Now, she is a self-governing dominion. Perhaps you shall lead this dominion into nationhood.

I should do my best, Sir, came the modest reply.

Fitzwilliam Kellynch and Mr. Desrosiers, a silver-haired, blue-eyed, short, and very successful businessman, discussed a sensitive matter. They conversed quietly so as not to alarm the ladies.

Kellynch was to inherit a vast fortune and the title Earl when his father passed. He had pale blue eyes and a decided look about him. He stood at regular height, was toned, and had excellent intelligence and character.

Across the flower arrangements, Richardieux paralleled the seriousness of the footman behind each chair. She would soon learn he rarely moved from this position. Étienne was to be Richardieux’s translator for the evening. The eldest Laurentiens were fluent in both languages and had the barest trace of a French accent. Though Aubrey had a working knowledge of the modern languages, she did not excel in French. She wondered if Richardieux would tell Emmett of the previous day’s outrageous afternoon.

The footmen cleared the poached salmon with mousseline sauce and cucumbers so they could serve the roast duckling. Peter laughed loudly at his own joke. For the first time in the evening, Richardieux spoke. He inquired after Peter.

Étienne asked Richardieux in French, The one with the pale, smooth complexion? Richardieux replied in the affirmative and asked Étienne a question about his dinner partner. Étienne laughed and said to Aubrey, My cousin says that comes from avoiding work your whole life. In English, you call him a Remittance Man. And my cousin would like to know your hobbies aside from, that is to say, show jumping? Étienne finished uncertainly, his brow furrowing quizzically while Aubrey’s did in detest.

Aubrey answered, "I am rather fond of Shakespeare, Hamlet being a favourite."

Richardieux replied quietly in French, Une femme qui lire (French for ‘A bookish female’).

Impatience got the better of Aubrey. She understood the slight against her.

Over the sixth course, which saw a separate dish served for each of the trio, Étienne asked Aubrey, My cousin would like to know what music you fancy.

Aubrey replied, Beethoven.

Richardieux’s eyebrows raised, Une femme intelligente (An intelligent woman).

The ice sculptures began to melt. Étienne told Aubrey that Beethoven was also one of his cousin’s favourite composers. The next wine was served to pair with the next course. Aubrey found herself goaded by Richardieux time and again. She could hardly retain composure. She faltered at every turn with the man. She wanted to tell him to go to the devil sooner than any man she had known. The ninth through eleventh courses were eaten in silence.

Étienne attempted conversation and tried for a lively debate, Father said women may soon obtain the vote.

Quite under his breath, Richardieux retorted, Si l’enfer devrait geler (When hell freezes over).

Aubrey understood what was said and had had enough of her dinner partner. To loathe him for eternity was the silent agreement made by her.

She blurted, You mean Hell hasn’t already frozen given it’s winter in Ottawa and I’m seated here with you?

She sat astonished at such callous disregard for the gentleman’s code. The etiquette of a lady was equal to the education of a gentleman. Étienne nearly spat out his glass of wine laughing. Richardieux was a teetotaller. As a lady, Aubrey’s champagne lay appropriately full. Before she could possibly recover to tell Étienne not to, translate he did. When Richardieux was told what Aubrey had said, he lost all pretences. He made the great faux pas of resting on the back of his chair. Then he hung his head and laughed. Though the most wretched man was seated before her, she was loath to admit in his smile a more handsome man could not be found.

The fifteenth and final course of absurdly moulded peaches in Chartreuse jelly and French ice cream was set before them.

The dinner concluded with the new acquaintances staring at one another across the way: she, with a look of one informed the groundhog had not seen his shadow and winter was to last much longer; he, with the look of Canadians in the first days of spring when the snow has assented to melt, the sun has strength to be of warmth, and the birds commence their songs after too harsh a winter.

Regina

Lady Kingzdon.

A gentleman should refrain from acknowledging a lady in thought and action until she takes the initiative. But, there Richardieux stood, on the opposite side of the street from Aubrey in downtown Regina. He was at the bonnet of a Rolls Royce Silver Ghost. His horseless carriage model was certainly one of the only ones in Saskatchewan, if not in western Canada. No lady entered an automobile unaccompanied by a chaperone, the sole exception being an earthquake. The prairies did not have earthquakes, but she would think of an excuse later. She looked to either side to ensure the coast was clear.

Once the pair was inside the convent, Mother Augusta immediately asked for an explanation as to the whereabouts of one of her youngest charges. Mother Augusta was an aged, salt-and-pepper-haired, short, sharp as a whip North of Scotland woman and hard to get along with. Richardieux excused himself for not having called earlier. In his best, if not quite broken, English, he introduced himself as her chaperone and a friend of the Kingstons from Ottawa, though he was in Regina to become a Mountie in the Royal North-West Mounted Police Force. It appeared, after more than thirty years, this man had finally unbent and was learning English. Aubrey played the fool. Richardieux never would have garnered the approval of Emmett.

Aubrey had few female companions in Regina, though she did share a room with two other young females, Christine McKercher and Hortence Gallaher. Christine was sweet and clever, with dark blond hair, green eyes, and porcelain skin. A Roman Catholic, she had the ill fortune of falling in love with a Protestant. Her parents forbade the match, given the two lovers were of opposing religious denominations. Instead, when Christine was eighteen, the McKerchers had sent her to Sacred Heart to become