Epilogue

March 1573

Winter relinquished its crown to spring and the quiet rhythm of life settled over the estate. As the days turned into weeks and then months, the world inevitably moved on. Seedlings burst into being, animals welcomed their young, and the sweet mundanity of everyday life brought with it a much-welcomed sense of peace to all living at the estate.

The attack had forever changed Lyse. There was a wariness about her that had not been there before. She spent more time alone, wandering the grounds of the estate. Although she did take joy in learning about the medicinal properties of plants, along with Sidonie. Apolline was a good teacher.

Nary a week went by without a stranger arriving at the gates. Some were women and children seeking protection and a chance at a new life. Aunt Eloise and Liane managed them as they had always done.

Others came seeking out Apolline.

Few came to the house themselves; they would usually send a servant or a child. Even though heavy with child herself, Apolline would still go into the garden without hesitation to gather her herbs and dispense her wisdom. She never complained, yet Sidonie occasionally caught her casting glances in the direction of the forest, where her former home still lay in ruins.

It was a wet spring day and the rain had driven all but a few to seek shelter indoors. Sidonie had been teaching Apolline her letters in the parlour, but the teacher was proving to be a poor student. When Aunt Eloise asked to speak with her, she relished the interruption.

‘Sidonie, dear. I am exceedingly fond of you. You know this,’ Aunt Eloise said from behind her desk.

‘You are not unwell, are you?’

‘Good heavens, no, dear. I am in exceedingly good health. I shall live until I am one hundred years old, perhaps longer – I have not decided yet. It is business I want to discuss. Sit down.’

Sidonie sat on the edge of the chair, still nervous.

‘As you know, my husband and I never had children. This house was bequeathed to me when he died. And when I die, all my property and assets will pass to Liane, so she can be comfortable for the remainder of her life. However, without an heir, I am in a difficult position. There is my work here to consider. I don’t imagine that the death of that infernal priest would have any significant impact on the number of women and children needing shelter and a helping hand. Would you consider taking over the responsibilities of the estate once myself and Liane are no longer able to do so? All the responsibilities? It is a big decision, so I shall give you time to think it over.’

Sidonie chuckled and Aunt Eloise asked her what she found so amusing. ‘Nothing, truly. Only this is what Olivier wanted for himself. For me to inherit your estate and your vast riches.’

‘They are vast, in part due to our modest living. Do you regret your decision not to marry Monsieur Chéreau?’

Almost half a year had passed since she had left Paris. In that time, she had gained a home and a family, some related by blood but all connected by love. It was more than she could have dreamed possible.

‘Not at all. But my decision will affect lives other than my own. I shall need to think about this. We both will.’

‘Of course. Take your time.’

Sidonie found Apolline at the edge of the estate, resting beneath the branches of an oak tree, her back against the bark as she looked towards the forest. The canopy sheltered her from the rain, with only occasional droplets falling from the fresh leaves to lightly dust her skin and clothing. Her feet were bare, as they often were, her toes buried in the damp soil. There was no outward indicator that she was anything but content. But Sidonie could tell that was not entirely true. There was something melancholy in the way she held her arms, in the tilt of her neck, the way she would softly sigh.

‘Are you going to watch me all day?’ Apolline called without turning her head.

‘How did you know I was there?’

‘You’re standing upwind.’

Sidonie joined her on the ground. They sat together silently in the shadow of the great tree until Apolline winced and put her hand to the side of her rounded belly.

‘She’s wriggling again, feel.’ She grabbed Sidonie’s hand and placed it on her belly.

Sidonie laughed as she felt the babe kicking. ‘She’s no bird anymore.’

‘More like a horse, the way she kicks.’

Sidonie’s expression turned serious. ‘Are you happy here?’

‘No less than I ought to be.’

‘Do you miss your cottage?’

Apolline sighed. ‘For a short time, I had a home and a piece of earth to call my own. It wasn’t much, but it was mine. I thought I could put down roots, stop moving from place to place. But here I find myself once more, waiting to be moved on. I could bear it before, but now that I’ve found you again, it feels like every day we have together is just one more before I lose you all over again.’ She brushed tears from her eyes.

Sidonie’s breath was snatched from her chest and pain tore through her heart. She had thought Apolline to be pining for her cottage in the forest, missing the life that had been stolen from her. She knew that Aunt Eloise’s offer, although made to her, was also extended to Apolline and her child. Her hesitation in accepting had been due to her own fear that Apolline would wish to leave the estate, to return to the forest. But perhaps now there was a way for them all to stay together.

Relief washed away her pain as Sidonie reached for Apolline’s hand. ‘You’re my family, the mirror of my heart. You will always have a home with me. If you wish it, we can make our home here.’

‘Stay here? How?’

Sidonie explained Aunt Eloise’s proposal.

‘One day, I will inherit this estate and carry on Aunt Eloise and Liane’s legacy,’ Sidonie said. ‘It will be your home as much as mine. If you wish it.’

Apolline lowered her head. ‘I know I will not marry again, but what of you? What if one day you find another young man willing to get himself shot in your defence? Shall we all live together in that big house?’

Sidonie knew Apolline needed a place of her own, a piece of earth. ‘We shall build you a cottage with a small piece of land on the estate. The house will always be as much mine as it is yours. But that cottage, it will be entirely yours.’

‘You would do that? For me?’

‘That and more besides.’

Apolline reached into her pocket and produced a small, wrapped bundle. ‘You will think me mad.’ She unwrapped it to reveal rich, brown soil. ‘I returned to the hermitage some weeks ago. When I finally found a home, I wanted this to be part of it.’ She placed a hand on her stomach. ‘A piece of her father’s home. This feels like the right place.’

Slipping her feet from the soil, she dug a small hole at the base of the oak tree. ‘Help me?’

They each took a handful of the forest soil and pressed it deep into the earth.

‘Home,’ Apolline said, linking her fingers with Sidonie’s.

‘Home.’