One Thousand Days – Chapter 4 – The Dowager

Elise, dowager marquise, was increasingly uneasy about her son's arrangement with the peasant girl, Valentine. She knew she could say very little, that her time of influence, if ever she had one, was past. But she worried about her remaining son and even had some compassion for the girl. She had seen others before her ruined by the treatment of the de Chatillon men in pursuit of their ancient rights.

Mathilde kept Elise informed of all that occurred in relation to Guy and Valentine. She had been appointed to the position of watcher very specifically to report to Elise, who was in fact her mistress, not the marquis. Elise managed the domestic arrangements for the chateau for her son, just as she had done for her husband; completely in charge of the servants, the furnishings, the food and entertainments, such as they were. Elise's competence had allowed both men the freedom to attend to the running of the vast estate, hunting and other pleasurable pursuits. It was an old arrangement that each marquis was happy to continue and, provided the marquise was adequate to the task, it suited all, keeping people engaged and content.

Mathilde assured Elise that all was in order: the girl was kept clean and safe, there was little danger of an unwanted child. The girl was compliant and quick, alert and charming. She made the marquis happy which meant most of the problems related to the estate were solved without the usual temper and uncivil consequences for the servants and workers. From Mathilde's perspective, if she had been asked, it was the perfect situation. A young girl rescued from poverty and despair, a man rescued from the misery of his lost wife and child. Even if the arrangement was the epitome of impermanent and corrupt it had clear benefits for now, and as far as Mathilde was concerned, that was a lot to have in this short uncertain life, anyway. A thousand days could be a lifetime.

Elise, as always, listened attentively to her favourite servant before asking her to arrange two meetings. One with her son and one with the girl. Valentine had been at the chateau for more than seven months and it was time the marquise met the girl who seemed to have captured her son's heart.

'Don't be afraid,' Mathilde said as she helped Valentine dress for her meeting with the dowager. 'She is a kind woman. You will like her. Besides, do you not want to meet her?'

Valentine nodded as Mathilde finished buttoning her dress. 'I have seen her on many occasions but she is too grand for me, too far above me.'

'She is a woman and you are deeply involved with her only son, of course she wants to see you. Just be respectful. Meeting her is the same as the marquis, remember your station, speak when spoken to but be truthful in your dealings with her.'

Valentine raised her eyebrows.

'She is a very powerful woman and most insightful. She holds great influence over her son and all that happens here. You would do well to remember that not all women are weak and powerless.'

Elise, dowager Marquise of Chatillon, had once been a reknown beauty. Now in her early fifties she was faded and too powdered for beauty but the high cheekbones and the artful mouth remained. Her thin hair was covered in the finest quality wig from Paris and her liver-spotted hands were dressed in lace gloves. She wore pearls at her throat and diamonds on her ears. For all her advancing years she remained an impressive woman: she had always known how to dress to her advantage, even as the ageing matriarch of her tiny family, even in the provinces, miles from her beloved Paris where she had been at the heart of court life for many years.

'Do not be nervous, my dear,' she extended her hand for Valentine to kiss. 'I have been interested in meeting you for some time but such matters can be awkward. I am sure you are aware of such matters through your lessons.' She smiled and poured some coffee into two delicate china cups. She offered sugar and gestured to the confectionaries on offer. 'Cook has outdone herself for us, so please pile up your plate. I have heard marvellous things about your appetite.'

Valentine obediently took two items for her plate and sipped her coffee in quiet anticipation. The dowager's rooms were splendid, more luxurious and handsome than even the marquis. Flowers were everywhere, but only roses so the perfume in the air was intense. There were porcelain statues collected on a table by the windows, cameos and portraits on the walls and the furnishings were off the softest peach colour, with gold fleur de lises, the same pattern as the marquis and her own furniture. She admired the statue of Aphrodite on the marble corner table.

Elise shook her head. 'It is Pallas-Athena you should admire. She was the goddess of wisdom, war and the arts. Far more to aspire to there, my dear. Never settle for love alone when you could have so much more. Let me lend you the statue for your room. I shall ask Rene to settle it with you so you can look upon her and consider her as your guiding inspiration. Have you read much about her?'

Valentine shook her head.

'There are books about the ancient gods and stories in the library. I will ensure Mathilde instructs Monsieur Artois to teach their stories. I find the stories from before our God to be most informative, as well as entertaining of course. I think you would enjoy reading about Helen of Troy and Penelope, two of the most beautiful mortals of the ancient world. I like to think they were real, not just part of legend.'

'I am sure I would enjoy them, thank you.'

Elise examined the young girl. She was a beauty and it was clear why her son, the marquis, was besotted with her. Her complexion was smooth and clear, her eyes shone and her young lips were full and pink. She had a pointed nose and soft chin, her brow was high and she held her head a little to the side encouraging you to think she was paying close attention or thinking carefully. She wore her hair arranged in combs and pulled back gently from her face. Her neck was slender and her breasts were as beautiful as Aphrodite's must have been. Yet there was a modesty to her, a pleasing way she had of being still and seemingly unaware of her physical impact. Elise believed she saw an inner beauty in the girl, born of genuine innocence and kindness. Mathilde had only good things to say about Valentine and Mathilde rarely had a kind word for Sophie or the other young girls working in the household.

Elise found herself wishing to be kind to the girl and she had not anticipated that. She had a delicate line to tread, ensure Guy did not disgrace himself, as other men in his family had done in similar situations, but also to ensure the girl did not suffer as a consequence of her complicated bond with the de Chatillons. As she got older, Elise found herself more sympathetic to the girls of a thousand days, or perhaps it was easier when the girls were bonded to your sons and not your own husband?

'Let us take a turn around the grounds and I will take you to my own special garden. I am sure you will love it.' Elise took Valentine's arm as they walked through the chateau and out a door Valentine did not know existed, but given the vastness of the house it was no surprise. 'Our house is said to be as beautiful as Versailles, did you know that?'

Outside in a part of the grounds Valentine had not visited they found a courtyard composed entirely of white flowers, every kind of white flower, all blooming and sweetly perfuming the air. There was a white magnolia tree, a fountain with iron and stone flowers decorating it, spewing water through metal rosebuds into the air. They took a short turn around the fountain and sat in the shade of the chateau.

'It is so beautiful, madam.'

'I knew you would like it. The old marquis had it made for me. It was his wedding present to me. The fountain was designed and made by someone famous whose name I now forget. The gardens were specially planned so there is something flowering all year and so many roses, because I simply adore roses. I have just one gardener working here, it is all that he does and I love him for that.'

'He must adore working here,' Valentine said. 'To tend something so lovely and natural; to be in God's presence, to enhance God's bounty must be truly rewarding.'

Elise smiled in agreement. 'I knew I was right to bring you here.' She patted the young girl's hand. 'Now you must listen to me as I tell you the story of our family, about Guy and his father and brother and this ancient arrangement they have with the fathers of our church. It may help you understand your situation and what might happen to you.'

Valentine nodded. Despite many hours with Guy she had not asked him about their relationship or the future. She seemed unable to find the moment or the words. She had only a few hours each evening and she did not wish to waste them in matters that might upset him. She knew her patience would be rewarded and now the dowager was about to tell her the story that she longed to know, that even Mathilde had evaded.

'Many hundreds of years ago, at the time of the crusades, the lands of the family de Chatillon were on the road to the holy land. Soldiers and pilgrims from England, Belgium, Holland and France would come through our country on their way to rescue Jerusalem from the Muslim invaders. Not all of these men were honourable, not even some of our own men, neither those who left on the crusades or those who remained. On their return from Jerusalem the marquis and his sons and their soldiers let their lust control them and they pilaged every town in our domain, taking advantage of any woman who caught their attention, young girls, mothers, married women. They even took advantage of the many women who worked here at the chateau caring for the house, working in the fields. It was a shameful period for us, a time when our men lost all sense of honour. Some women were rejected by their husbands as whores, some daughters were unable to marry because their purity had been taken from them, some had babies they never wanted, and some killed themselves because of the shame of their encounter with our men.

'The abbots and priests met with the village elders to ensure such a thing never happened again. They proposed that the marquis and his sons could choose one woman from any of the villages under their domain and possess her for one thousand days, the amount of women who suffered during this terrible time. This meant that no other women could be coerced into sexual relations with any of our family ever again. This was especially important for those who worked for us at the chateau. An agreement was struck: one woman for the marquis, one for his sons, as they saw fit. There could only be one woman at a time, no man could take more than one mistress so he had to choose carefully. There was a probation time to see if a mistake had been made and then at the end of the thousand days the girl would be returned to her family if she wished, a suitable marriage arranged, or if she had born a child she would be looked after on the estate for as long as she wished. Payment has been a discretionary matter and no married woman or mother can be taken. Thus it is women like you, young pretty girls, who catch the eye of our men folk who come to the chateau for one thousand days. And thus it has been for more than five hundred years. My husband, his father and my sons have tried to be generous in this matter and to cause as little upset as possible. Sadly that has not always been possible.'

Valentine listened carefully. She heard two things: mistress and child. Was she expected to bear a child?

'In the pursuit of sons men have done some terrible things,' Elise said, seeming to read Valentine's mind. 'Men need sons and bastard sons are better than none at all. A woman who bears a de Chatillon son, no matter which side of the blanket will be revered and cared for for the rest of her life. But no, my dear, before you ask, she will never become a wife. The son may become a marquis, be accepted and acknowledged by his father, especially if there are no legitimate heirs but the mother will always be the mistress.'

Valentine nodded, she had hoped, as young naive girls do, but she had always known. Girls like her did not become princesses. She was lucky as she was, and clearly she was doubly lucky to have someone as kind and generous as Guy as her master. It was all right, she could still love him. 'Am I to bear him a son?'

Elise had not expected such a direct question. She smiled at the girl's plain honesty, her complete lack of guile. 'That is not for me to say, or decide. Women who bear sons do better in this world. I am lucky that I bore two, even if one lies in the ground. Men want sons, they need their name to go on. They need to know the estate and all they have worked and often fought for will be safe guarded into the future. If you are fertile and if you bear a de Chatillon son then you will be assured of great care for the rest of your life. But, Valentine, do not be in a hurry. Men like their women to be women, they are not so keen on their women being mothers.' She smiled as much to herself as to the young girl. 'Wait a little, ensure you complete your toilette exactly as Mathilde instructs. Let him take you to Paris before you are tempted to safeguard yourself with a son.'

Valentine's eyes lit up. 'Oh, madam, Paris? I so long for Paris. Have you been, what is it like? Tell me all.'

Elise spoke for some time of the enchantment of Paris, Valentine hanging off every word, asking for detail, pressing her for more stories, about the people, the clothing, the food, the parties, the city itself. Her appetite was insatiable and Elise felt herself young again in the telling of her time in the city of light, when she was one of the most beautiful women at court, when she could have chosen from a dozen suitors; when the king, himself, had danced with her and plied her with jewels to entice her into his bed. Sometimes she wondered what might have been had she taken the role of the king's mistress instead of Marquise of Chatillon?

Elise had been more charmed by Valentine than she had expected or wanted, given what she knew she needed to do. Guy was too besotted by the girl. Elise did not want to consider the word love, but it hovered above her like a storm cloud. Guy's brother, Gerard, had been impetuous and a fool but he had known where the line was with his own companion. But then, perhaps if he'd been more in love things might have turned out so much better. No, Guy was in danger of making too much a fool of himself, and despite her fondness for Valentine (she would take refreshments with her more often) she was going to act.

'My darling boy,' Elsie had insisted they ate a private supper together. Some wine and a good food always helped when there was something delicate to be achieved. She ordered Guy's favourite meats: duckling and roast pork with roast vegetables followed by a crème brulee made for the Gods. She began the meal with champagne and had the cointreau bottle ready for a nightcap.

'Mother, we do not see enough of each other.' Guy kissed his mother's cheeks and embraced her warmly.

'You are too busy with other matters I hear,' she teased him.

He blushed. 'We play cards and backgammon. I think she might be ready for chess.'

'Be careful you don't make her too smart. Beauty and brains can be most unattractive in a girl from the lower classes.'

His eyes flashed darkly at her words. She smiled quickly not wanting to upset him, or alert him too early to her intentions. Better to drink wine, discuss the estate and hunting: always topics guaranteed to animate Guy and allow him to show off for her, all the better to improve his mood and her chances.

They sat by the fire at the end of the meal sipping cointreau. She laid her hand gently upon his. 'I am concerned that you spend too much time working, Guy, that you have little enough time for entertainments. I know you hunt and you have your companion but a man of your age and position should be in society more.' She looked at his face: he was listening calmly, his jaw relaxed, his eyes softly blue. She pressed on. 'I know it has been hard for you since Gerard died so suddenly and you had to take on the roles and responsibilities of the estate and then with Celine and the child. Oh, I know how hard the last five years have been, my son. It has been a time of great sadness for us all.'

She let her words sink in, let him feel her love and concern for him. It was never easy to be reminded of the death of your loved ones, and under such tragic circumstances. She'd felt for some time as if the family was cursed, as if the sins of the crusaders had come back to haunt them. She hoped he would not think her cruel.

'I think you need to be back in the world, my dearest son. I think you need to travel or host a party here; some manner of reminding the world of your status, of re-presenting yourself to society and, yes, of enjoying yourself more fully.'

'I am not ready to marry, Mama. I am barely thirty and I see no need to rush matters. I am strong and healthy.'

'So was your brother,' she said quietly. 'You must think of the estate, of what could happen if you died without an heir. It is not a trifling matter.'

He bowed his head. 'I know, Mama. I am aware of my duties. I take them very seriously.'

'Marrying and having an heir is one of them too,' Elise pressed.

He held up his hand to stop her. 'Mama, I have listened to you and I will think on the matter, but you are not to instruct me.'

She nodded. 'You are right, you are the Marquis and I am only your mother. But, might I make a suggestion, one that should not offend?'

He considered her face, a face now old and more tired than he realised. Perhaps it was she who longed for a grandchild before it was too late for her? She was right, he knew it and he would have to set some time to consider the matter. If only Valentine was more than his ancient right. He nodded. 'You may speak, Mama.'

'It is many years since you have seen your close friends, your partners in crime from your young days at court. I'm sure they miss you. You write I know but when did you see them last? At your wedding, or was it Frederick's? Why not invite them, Pierre, Frederick and Prince Alexei to come for a month and enjoy the hunting and their company. If you agree I will make all the arrangements.'

Guy finished his drink; a broad smile creeping across his face. His friends from court, Pierre, Duke of Burgundy, Frederick, Count of Bourbonne and Prince Alexei Polonowski: yes, the last time they had been together was just before he lost Celine, when they had travelled to Frederick's wedding feast in Lyon, a week of festivities and enjoyment. His mother was right, he needed to see his friends, to laugh and hunt.

'All right, Mama. I agree, make the arrangements for me. I will see my friends and we have so much here we can do; a great hunt, a grand ball even. It would be good for them to come. But no wives, I am not in the mood for wives.' He kissed her on the head as he prepared to take his leave of her. 'Thank you, Mama.'

'It will be my pleasure. It's good to see you smile again, Guy. Look forward to your friends' visit. We'll leave other matters to other times.'