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Lisette assumed she was speaking of the loss of Jay’s wife, but decided not to comment.
By the time they had finished their tea, Jay returned. ‘All is ready,’ he said. ‘Shall we go over?’
Everyone, including the children, trooped out behind him, across a lane to a barn in the yard of the Home Farm, which was already filling with people, young, old and every age between. The unthreshed wheat, with its unique scent of summer, was piled up almost to the ceiling at one end, but the rest of the floor had been cleared. A long table had been set up down the length of this space and groaned under the weight of the food it held. No one would go away hungry.
Jay showed them to their places, then left them again to make sure everyone was seated at the table. He made a short speech praising the workers, to which the lord of the harvest replied, calling for three cheers for the Commodore. The sound of the hurrahs rose to the rafters. Jay was undoubtedly a popular employer and landlord.
When every last scrap of food had been consumed and the table cleared away, space was made in the middle of the floor for dancing, the music for which was provided by a fiddler and a flautist.
‘I wonder what the grain is like in Villarive this year,’ Lisette mused aloud as she sat beside her father on a bale of straw, watching the merriment.
‘I hope it is better than last year,’ he said. ‘More to the point, is there anyone to harvest it? And what about the apples? It will soon be time to pick those.’
‘Are you very homesick, Papa?’ He had regained a little of his strength, but he was often to be found deep in thought, tears filling his eyes. It hurt her to see it.
‘Of course I am. I wish we could go back.’
‘So do I, but I don’t think that is possible, Papa, not at the moment. Later, perhaps when the troubles are at an end and France is peaceful again.’
‘Why have we not heard from Michel? You did write to him, did you not?’
‘Yes, Papa, I did, more than once. I suggested he should join us.’
‘He will not do that while the King needs him and Louis will not release him, even if he wanted to come.’
‘I will write again. Perhaps he has not received my earlier letters. Now, we must not be miserable when Monsieur Drymore has been so good as to invite us to a celebration. They are all very good to us, do you not agree?’
‘Yes. I have to admit that, as far as Englishmen go, Lord Drymore is a good man and his wife so charming, she could almost be French.’
Lisette laughed at this grudging praise. ‘And the Commodore?’
‘He is a brave man and I will always be in his debt.’ He sighed. ‘If only we could have brought Michel out with us.’
‘You know that wasn’t possible at the time, Papa.’
‘I know.’ It was said with a heavy sigh.
‘Papa,’ she said slowly. ‘Tell me about Earl Wentworth.’
He had been watching the company with a faraway look in his eye, but turned sharply towards her at this. ‘What do you want to know about him for?’
‘Curiosity,’ she said. ‘What manner of man was he?’
‘Rude, dictatorial, the sort of man to lose his temper violently when he could not have his own way. He had a husband lined up for your mother and would have had her marry him whether she willed it or no. She was in terror of him.’
‘And the rest of the family?’
‘Two sons, George, the present earl, and Gerald—both as bad as he was.’ He paused. ‘You are not contemplating making their acquaintance, are you?’
‘No, but I believe Jay—’ She stopped suddenly when she realised she had spoken his given name aloud and quickly corrected herself. ‘The Commodore has been ill used by them or someone in the family. He cannot bear the name mentioned.’
‘Neither can I, so we will not mention it.’
‘Very well.’
They fell silent, watching the men and women and even the little children dancing. Lisette found her foot tapping to the music.
Jay had been busy making sure everyone was enjoying themselves and curbing the more riotous of the labourers who were taking advantage of the free ale to become drunk. ‘This a family affair,’ he told them. ‘Your wives and children are present, do not embarrass them.’ Only now did he find time to look about him. He saw Lisette and her father, sitting together, apparently in silence, and went over to them.
‘I am sorry I have neglected you.’
‘Indeed, you have not,’ Lisette said quickly. ‘We are enjoying the music, are we not, Papa?’
‘To be sure. We have a celebration something like this in Villarive when the apples have been picked.’
