“They may gain glory for themselves but they certainly bring misery to millions. I wonder what he is thinking of grinding his teeth on Elba.”

“Thinking of escape no doubt,” said my father.

“That must never happen,” added my mother.

Napoleon was finished, everyone said. He was not the first man who had dreamed of conquering the world and doubtless would not be the last. But eventually he had been brought to defeat and we could sleep in peace.

It was a lovely May afternoon when we had visitors. I was at Eversleigh sitting in the garden with my mother, Claudine and Amaryllis, when one of the maids came out to say that two gentlemen had called to see my mother. “Foreigners,” she added.

“Did they give their names?” asked my mother.

“No, Madam. They just said to see you.”

“Bring them out,” said my mother.

And they came.

My mother stared; then she grew pale and I thought she was going to faint. Claudine had risen; she gave a little cry.

Then my mother said faintly: “Is it really … ?” And with a little cry she flung herself into the arms of the elder of the men. The younger stood by, looking on in a bewilderment which was shared by Amaryllis and myself.

“Charlot… Charlot…” cried my mother.

Claudine stammered: “Oh Charlot, is it really you?”

And she embraced him too.

Charlot! My mother’s son—my half brother, who had left England before I was born.

“My dear dear son,” my mother kept murmuring. “To think … after all these years …”

“I came as soon as it was possible,” he said. “It seems so long … You recognized me.”

“My dear boy, as if I should fail to do so.”

“This is Pierre, my son.”

My mother took the hands of the younger one and stared at him. Then she kissed him on both cheeks. “Just think, you are my grandson. And this is your Aunt Claudine … Charlot, Jessica is my daughter … your half sister … and Amaryllis, she is David and Claudine’s daughter.”

“Much has happened since I left.”

“All those years …” said my mother. “It has been a long time to wait. Now tell me … You will stay with us for a while. This is not to be a brief visit. There is so much to talk of. All those years to account for …”

“I should have been here before only travelling was out of the question.”

“Thank God it is over and the tyrant is in exile.”

“We have a king on the throne of France now, Maman.”

There were tears in her eyes as she said: “You were always such a royalist, dear Charlot.” She went on briskly: “Amaryllis, will you go and tell them to prepare rooms. See what’s going on in the kitchens. Tell them my son and grandson have come home!”

My mother had eyes only for him. I realized how saddened she had been by his departure. It must have been more than twenty years since she had seen him. Wars! Revolutions! They did not only ruin states, they brought havoc into the lives of countless families. How we had suffered through them!

Now there was rejoicing. The prodigal had come home.

When my mother had recovered from her emotion a little, we sat in the garden and Charlot told us about his vineyard in Burgundy. Louis Charles would have liked to come with him but they had thought it would be unwise for the two of them to be away together.

Pierre was his eldest son. He was sixteen years of age and was learning about the production of wine. There were two other sons, Jacques and Jean-Christophe; and two daughters, Monique and Andree.

“What a family man you have become!”

My father came to join us. He expressed amazement to see Charlot. He liked the look of young Pierre and was quite interested in the talk about the vineyards; and in any case, he was pleased to see my mother so happy.

I had never seen her so completely content. All through the years she must have felt this nagging sense of loss, as I suppose one must if one lost a son. The thought that he was there just across the water must have been with her for a long time. Death is irrevocable and one can do no good by remembering, but when a loved one is alive, and separated by a devastating war there must always be the fear, the longing for reunion, the continual doubts, the question as to whether one will see that loved one again.

I said goodbye and left them on the lawn. I went back and told Edward all about it.

There would be great rejoicing at Eversleigh that night. I wished I could have been there to share in it.

Charlot stayed at Eversleigh for two weeks and when he left it was with assurances that he would come back, bringing other members of his family with him; and Louis Charles would come with his two sons.

“As for you, Maman,” he said, “you must visit us in Burgundy. We have a fine old house which somehow managed to survive the vandals. Louis Charles and I have had a great deal of pleasure repairing it. Pierre helped, didn’t you, my son? And Louis Charles’ eldest is quite a carpenter. We have plenty of room. You ought to come for the vendange.”

“I will. I will,” cried my mother. “And you too, Dickon. You’d be interested.”

“You’d be welcome, sir,” said Charlot.

And my father said he would be very interested to see everything. It added to my mother’s joy in the reunion that my father welcomed Charlot so warmly.

Amaryllis told me that her mother had said that when Charlot lived at Eversleigh there had been a certain antagonism between the two.

“In those days,” said Amaryllis, “your father had not long been married to your mother and he resented her having been married before and having two children. My mother said he tolerated her but could not bear Charlot. They were always sparring. Now he seems to have changed.”

“It is living with people that is so difficult,” I observed. “Visitors are quite another matter.”

So Charlot returned to France with promises of meetings in the near future.

My mother said excitedly: “It will be wonderful to visit France again. It is wonderful that all the troubles are over.”

My father commented that it was early days yet and while Napoleon lived, we must not hope for too much. But my mother refused to believe anything but good. She had recovered her son whom she had thought to be lost to her for ever. She was happy.

I noticed my father was a little preoccupied and one day, soon after Charlot’s departure, when I was alone with him, I asked him if anything was wrong.

“You’re a very observant girl, Jessica,” he said.

“I think we are all aware when those who mean a great deal to us are anxious.”

He put out a hand and gripped mine. He was not one to give way to demonstrations of affection so I guessed he had something really on his mind which was causing him concern.

“You’d better tell me,” I said. “I know something is bothering you.”

“Old age, daughter.”

“Old age? You? You’ll never be old.”

“What is the span? Three score years and ten? I’m approaching it, Jessica. With the best will in the world I can’t expect to be here much longer. Do you know how old I am?”

“Years have little to do with it.”

“It would be comforting if that were true. Alas, we wear out.”

“Not you. You never did what other people did. You’ll go when you want to and that will be never.”

“What a charming daughter I have.”

“I am glad you realize it.”

“My greatest regret in life is that I was prevented from marrying your mother when we were young. If we had not been stopped, we should have had ten children … sons and daughters like my own Jessica.”

“No use regretting that now. You have a wonderful son in David.”

“He’s a good son, yes. But what has he produced? One daughter. And now she has produced a daughter.”

“Oh, I see, it is this masculine yearning for men in the house.”

“I have the best daughter in the world and I wouldn’t change her, but it would have been a help if you had been born a boy!”

“I’m sorry, dear father, I would do anything I could for you but I cannot change my sex.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have my Jessica changed … not even for a son.”

“I am flattered. But is this all that is wrong? No boys in the family?”

“David and Claudine won’t have any more. David won’t live forever.”

“I hate talk about death. It’s morbid.”

“I’m just planning for the future. Seeing that boy, Charlot, with his Pierre growing up in the business, teaching him everything … and the other boys as well. It made me think. What about us? David … and then what? Jessica, I am sixty-nine years of age.”

“And you are as well and vigorous as someone twenty years younger.”

“Even I cannot defy nature forever, my dear. There is going to be a day when I go, and then David will follow me. And what of Eversleigh? Do you realize that for centuries this family have lived in this house?”

“Yes, I did know. They were Eversleighs at one time and then the name changed.”

“I want Frenshaws to be here for another four hundred years. You see, you have made this marriage. It was your choice. But I had hopes of you. If you had brought me even a girl I would have said Jessica’s girl would be as good as anyone else’s boy. Now what? Amaryllis has had this girl. If she had had a boy it would have been different. What I am getting at is that there is only one thing for me to do—Jonathan.”

“I see. You are going to bring him to Eversleigh.”

“That is what I am going to do, and without delay. But he’s wild. That worries me. He’s like his father. His father would never have been any good for the estate.”

“You were lucky to have twin boys. Just like you. Not content with one you had to have two.”