Read Online The Chateau on the Lake by Charlotte Betts - Free Book Online

son for generations in his family.’
    De Roussell studies the crest of the leaping deer engraved on the stone and then glances up at me. ‘It’s a very fine moonstone and I believe I recognise the crest. Which part of France did your father come from?’
    ‘My mother said he originated from Fontainebleau. His name was Philippe Moreau.’
    ‘Ah! Then I’m right. Philippe Moreau is the name of the eldest son of Louis-François Moreau, Duc de Limours. The family seat, Château de Lys, is near Fontainebleau, I believe.’
    Stunned, I shake my head. My father, the son of a duke! During my childhood I had woven stories in which I was a long-lost princess, but this was no less fantastical.
    ‘Is the Duc de Limours still alive?’ I ask.
    De Roussell shrugs. ‘As to that I cannot say. But there is another son, I believe.’
    I hardly remember taking my leave of the marquis or saying my goodbyes to Georgiana in my hurry to tell Sophie of the news.
    When I arrive, quite out of breath, at Sophie’s house, she’s in the drawing room and looks up at me with an anxious expression. ‘Did you hear any gossip about me?’ she asks.
    ‘None at all.’ I run and clasp her hands. ‘But you can’t imagine my news,’ I say. ‘I showed Papa’s ring to the Marquis de Roussell and he tells me that Papa was the son of a duke and that I may have an uncle, too!’
    ‘No!’ Sophie shrieks in delight. ‘You
must
seek them out.’
    It’s an exciting but breathtakingly impossible idea, travelling to revolutionary France to find them. ‘I couldn’t. It’s so far away, and they probably don’t even know I exist.’
    ‘Maddy, you’ve wondered about them all your life. And now that your parents aren’t here to stop you…’
    I close my eyes as a shaft of pain pierces my heart again.
    She hugs me, sympathetic tears welling in her own eyes. ‘Whatever difficulties life presents us with, Maddy, at least we will always have each other.’
    We talk about my discovery until it’s too late for me to stay out any longer.
    I return to Soho Square and eventually fall asleep in my nasty cell, my mind full of images of unfamiliar places and shadowy, faceless relatives.
     

     
    Christmas Day comes and, although the Jephcotts dutifully include me in their festivities, I’m desolate. Echoes of earlier Christmases haunt me. I cannot help but remember the affection between the three of us when Mama and I sat by the fire roasting chestnuts, while Papa serenaded us with carols. Soho Square holds too many loving memories for me not to feel miserable now that Mama and Papa have gone. The school they established together is no longer my beloved home.
    The day after Christmas I walk to the Levesque house to take my gift of a set of pewter soldiers to Henry, who throws his arms around me in delight.
    Sophie has tears in her eyes as she greets me.
    ‘Henry,’ I say, ‘perhaps you would take your soldiers up to the nursery?’
    ‘What’s the matter, Sophie?’ I ask as soon as the door has closed behind him.
    ‘Maddy, I don’t know what to do,’ she whispers.
    ‘Is it Charles again?’
    She shakes her head. ‘I’m going to have another baby.’
    ‘But that’s wonderful news!’
    ‘No, it isn’t. It’s not Charles’s child.’
    ‘Not…’ Shock silences me.
    ‘Charles hasn’t been near my bed for months.’ She looks at me now, her eyes full of fear. ‘It’s Jack’s baby. If Charles finds out he’ll kill me.’
    I don’t doubt it. At the very best he’ll turn her into the streets and never let her see Henry again. ‘Sophie, what will you do?’
    ‘What can I do, apart from take Henry and run away?’
    ‘Charles wouldn’t rest until he found you.’
    ‘Maddy, come with me?’ Her eyes plead with me. ‘You want to find your papa’s relatives. We could go to France together.’
    I’m aghast. ‘Sophie, talking about it is one thing, actually travelling on our own to France is quite another.’
    ‘Mary Wollstonecraft did.