Will You Love Me in September

"There could be no greater praise than that, Jeanne. But I wonder whether Lance would appreciate it.”

"Now come ... the bath ... then the food ... and then the 'air. I shall make you so beautiful thees day.”

"As beautiful as Lance?" I asked.

"I say this: no one shall be as beautiful as my lady. This is 'er day. She will be the most beautiful of all brides ...”

"Made so by the deft hands of Jeanne.”

"So ... so ..." she murmured.

Jeanne and I had grown very close to each other over the years. She was very fond of Sabrina. "There is big charm in that one," was her comment. "But naughtiness too.

She will have to be watched. You were not like that as a little one. No.”

"I lacked the charm.”

"That is a no sense." Jeanne had an amusing way of adapting words to suit herself, and I sometimes found myself using them. "You have the charm," she went on. "But you were a good little girl . . ? more caring for others ... per'aps. You were more like the ladies Priscilla and Arabella. Not like your mother and father . .

. they cared first for themselves. So with the little Sabrina.”

"She is only a child.”

"I know much of children. What is in them at three is in them at thirty.”

"My dear, wise Jeanne... .”

"So wise that I will get you up this minute. We have good time, but let us not waste it.”

I put myself in her hands. I was content to sit at the mirror while she waited on me, brushing my hair and coiling it round my head so that it would show to the best advantage.

I watched her in the mirror, intent and proud of me. Dear Jeanne!

"I have so much to thank you for," I said with emotion. "What can I do to show you that I appreciate all you have done for me?”

She touched my shoulder lightly. "It is not to be measured out," she said. "You have change my life. You let me come here ... be your lady's maid. That is what I ask.

But we do not count what we do.”

JYes, Jeanne, of course.”

'I am to be with you. It is what I want. We shall leave this ouse. You go to your husband and I go with you. I am glad of hat. I would not wish to stay here ... without you. And you let me come with you and Sir Lance, 'e say yes. 'I hear you are coming with us, Jeanne,' he say. 'That is good ... very good.' That is what he say. And he smile his beautiful smile. He is a beautiful gentilhomme.”

"I am glad you approve of him, Jeanne.”

"He is what I would choose for you. Stop thinking of this ... Dickon. He is a boy.

He is far away. He would not have been the one for you.”

"How can you know?”

"Something tell me. He is away fourteen years ... that one ... that boy. Fourteen years! Mon Dieu! He will have a wife out there in that foreign place. No, Sir Lance ... he is the one for you.”

"He certainly has a champion in you.”

She nodded, smiling.

"How will you like leaving Enderby?" I asked.

She was silent for a few moments, holding the brush over my head and staring down at it. Then she said rather vehemently, "I am 'appy. I go with you and that is good.

Enderby is not a good house.”

"Not a good house! What do you mean?”

"Shadows ... whispers ... noises in the night. There's spirits about it ... long-dead ones that can't rest.”

"Really, Jeanne, surely you don't believe that. Where is your practical French realism?”

"It is a 'ouse where 'appiness do not stay ... long. A little time maybe, but it flits away. I am glad we leave. I could not have borne not to go with you. So ...

now I am 'appy. It is what I always want ... to be lady's maid. I remember your mother ... so ... so beautiful, and Claudine was her lady's maid. She was very important, Claudine. Not like the rest of us. I always wanted to be lady's maid ... to comb the 'air, to touch up the cheeks, to make little black beauty spots ... that was my dream. Germaine was jealous of Claudine. Germaine always wanted to be lady's maid.

And now I am one and I go with you and your beautiful 'usband. We shall go to London ... Ah, that is a great place to be.”

"And in the country sometimes.”

"That will be good too.”

"And we shall come back here to Enderby for visits.”

"For visits. That is not the same as living here.”

"You talk as though we're escaping from some evil spell.”

"Per'aps," said Jeanne shrugging her shoulders.

She looked down at my hands. "You are not going to wear that ring at your wedding?”

I twisted round and round the ring, which now fitted my middle finger. My hands had grown since Lord Hessenfield had given it to me.

"It's my bezoar ring," I said. "A very special ring.”

"It will not match your dress.”

"Never mind. I shall wear it all the same. Don't look at it like that, Jeanne. It's a very precious ring. Queen Elizabeth gave it to one of my ancestors and it has special properties. It's an antidote against poison.”

"What do you mean?”

"I mean that if someone gave me a drink with arsenic in it-or perhaps some other poison-this ring would absorb the poison. It acts as a sort of sponge." * Jeanne made a noise of disgust. "A likely story," she said, but she took my hand and studied the ring. "Queen Elizabeth, did you say? Was it one of hers, then?”