Buchan Daughters of the Storm

A sweeping tale of freedom and betrayal, love and death, set in revolutionary France
Main
ISBN: 978-1-83895-536-6
Verlag: Corvus
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 631 Seiten

Paris, 1789. As the shadow of the guillotine falls over a nation at war with itself, three very different women find themselves caught up in the storm of revolution... In France under the last Bourbon king, the extravagance grows more outrageous and the unrest of the poor more dangerous. Into this ferment are swept the innocent English Sophie Luttrell, visiting France for the first time; the French aristocrat Héloise de Guinot, who hates the man her parents have arranged for her to marry; and Marie-Victoire, the loyal maid who finds herself immersed in revolutionary politics. They are the daughters of the storm which is sweeping over France - and over the world. Three women whose lives will be forever marked by this turning point in history and whose passionate struggle for love, liberty - and for life - will have unexpected consequences.

Elizabeth Buchan was a fiction editor at Random House before leaving to write full time. Her novels include the prize-winning Consider the Lily, international bestseller Revenge of the Middle-Aged Woman, The New Mrs Clifton and The Museum of BrokenPromises. Buchan's short stories are broadcast on BBC Radio 4 and published in magazines. She has reviewed for the Sunday Times, The Times and the Daily Mail, and has chaired the Betty Trask and Desmond Elliot literary prizes. She was a judge for the Whitbread First Novel Award and for the 2014 Costa Novel Award. She is a patron of the Guildford Book Festival and co-founder of the Clapham Book Festival. elizabethbuchan.com

Autoren/Hrsg.

Buchan, Elizabeth

Leseproben

PART TWO

JANUARY–SEPTEMBER 1792

FRANCE

October 1789–January 1792

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fédérés fédérés .

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barrière. .

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CHAPTER ONE

Pierre, January 1792

PIERRE WHISTLED TO CHEER HIMSELF UP. IT WAS COLD, his horse was slow and his head hurt from the previous night. The tune was infectious and suddenly he grinned, feeling better. Last night had been worth it, and the girl he had finally lain with had been, unlike many he had known, fresh and wholesome. He had paid her with a lapful of walnuts and a bottle of good oil, knowing that nobody would enquire too closely where they had come from.

His horse lengthened its stride. He would be in Paris within a few minutes and back at the Hôtel de Choissy within the hour, where the cook would give him a meal. Pierre made some calculations. He would be the richer by a sack of good white flour and a large ham which were his fee for working as a carrier to and from the de Choissy farm just outside Étampes. Plus the bread and oil that he had quietly helped himself to from the stores. He planned to smuggle them through the without paying the dues and to sell them to his good friend in the Rue de la Harpe.

Evading the toll was a game that Pierre often played. Once he had even hidden a sack of beans in a hole in the wall when the guard wasn’t looking and had retrieved it later. There was no lack of willing hands to help with the smuggling. No one liked the levies, the women in particular – and women’s skirts had their uses quite apart from the pleasure of lifting them.

At the big gates, the guard challenged him. Pierre ground to a halt and began his negotiations. The guard was talkative and friendly. Pierre exerted himself to amuse him with local news and anecdotes and the man quite forgot to look under the driver’s seat or into the ‘empty’ barrel at the back of the cart. They discussed the unsuccessful flight of the king from Paris the previous summer, a juicy titbit about the queen and the price of bread. Pierre handed over some money, cracked a joke and rolled off in the direction of the Rue de l’Université.

If he played his cards right, he would soon have enough money to buy a cart and two horses. After that he would begin his own business. After that he would rent his own house. And after that? Who knew? He was alone in the world, committed to no one, free with his favours and determined to make his way.

Meanwhile there were plenty of girls to amuse him and plenty of contacts to cultivate. There were the meetings he had begun to attend with his friends, ostensibly to discuss politics, but also to drink and to enjoy themselves with the women.

Yes, life was pleasant if you knew how to organize it.

CHAPTER TWO

Marie-Victoire, February 1792

SHE PICKED HER WAY DOWN THE STREET, DUCKING every now and again to avoid the carriages which bore down on pedestrians with absolutely no regard for life or limb. As she bunched her skirts tightly around her to avoid the inevitable lashing of mud, Marie-Victoire reflected that she would never get used to the dirt and the danger of Parisian streets.

The quiet lanes around La Joyeuse...