Chapter 2: Love and marriage.

June – July 1824. Chateau Blanchard, Nr Valenciennes.

I did as advised by Callum Keane, and the day after his departure I got from my bed for three hours, spent mostly sat on a chaise longue entwined with Mimi. Gradually my strength returned, and a week after returning to Blanchards I made my way around the château courtyard, assisted by Francois Truffaut the estate’s steward. During our perambulation I noticed the rundown appearance of many of the buildings.
I pointed out the neglect to Francois, who gave a Gallic shrug.
“I have told Madame Mimi we need to spend money on repairing the estate buildings, as well as replacing outworn agricultural equipment. We need a new plough and the horses to pull it, and livestock, and seed. We need...”
“The estate was in good condition when I was here for Matilde’s wedding five years ago. What happened to have the place go to wrack and ruin?”
He thought some before replying. “Madame Annette was an excellent chatelaine, even with a lack of money she ensured the fields were ploughed and seed sown. When she died the three girls, for all their hard work and the money from those diamonds, were not up to Madam Annette’s standard. Matilde did the accounting, Mimi looked after the house, and Chloe saw to the agriculture. When Matilde left Blanchards after her wedding the accounts got into disarray.”
He looked at me, a sad expression on his face. “I could not help with the accounts as I can barely write my name, and numbers are far beyond me. The accountant hired to sort out the financial affairs ran off with the chateau’s money. We then had a bad season and crops failed. Chloe borrowed money to buy seed and the next year was another disaster. We sold most of our live stock to pay off the debt.” He hesitated. “Then Madam Mimi had her...”
“You do not have to continue, Francois. I know all about that.”

I looked around the courtyard. The stables and blacksmith shop looked to be in relatively good repair, but the barn and drying shed were dilapidated and required urgent work.
“Francois, do a full inspection of all the buildings, the farm equipment, and what remaining livestock. Give me a detailed...” I stopped as I realised he would be unable to write a report. “Do you know anyone who could write an account from your dictation?”
He furrowed his brow in thought for a moment. “There’s young Joseph Hainaut from Wallers. He has a wise head on young shoulders, and I know he has a fair hand. His mother was a teacher, and I expect Joseph was taught by her to read and do that arithmetic stuff as well.”
“Excellent. Engage the fellow as your scribe, and have him produce a full report on what needs to be done, with a rough estimate of the cost to bring the estate back to the same condition it was before the failed harvests, the theft of the money, and Madam Mimi’s illness.”

I took to my bed shortly afterwards, absolutely exhausted, but well enough to rouse myself when Mimi entered the room.
“Francois has told me what you asked him to do, Jacques. I know the estate has gone downhill and blame myself but...”
I stopped her by kissing her.After a minute or two of our lips and tongues gliding over each other I let her up for air.
“It is not your fault the harvest failed, or that Chloe incurred a debt, or that a criminal stole your money. Annette had not foreseen her dying before passing onto all three of you girls the tricks and stratagems of an estate manager. Her untimely death, coupled with failed harvests, bitter winters, and a dishonest accountant, drove the estate down.”
“We just haven’t the money to restore Blanchards to how it was when Annette was chatelaine.”
I gave a huge grin. “But I have. I am a full Colonel in His Britannic Majesty’s army, and am paid twenty-two shillings and six pence per day. I spent a year without drawing on my salary, plus I have an investment that netted me over two thousand pounds last year. I am a wealthy man, Mimi.”
“And you are willing to spend your fortune on an estate that will never belong to you?”
“More than willing, my sweet. When he reaches his maturity, Jean-Woodrow Renoir Allen Blanchard will have an estate worthy of the names he bears.”

Mimi threw her arms around my neck and sobbed as if her heart had broken, but I knew they were tears of joy.
I kissed her wet cheeks, and then my tongue entered her wet mouth, and for several moments all that was heard were panting, gasps, and the rustle of undergarments being dislodged.
“You seem to have regained your vigour,” Mimi said, gasping with pleasure as my fingers found her honey pot, stroking and caressing her nether lips, until she once again invaded my mouth with her darting tongue.
Claudette, entering the room with two squalling babies held in her arms, brought what might have developed to an abrupt end.
“Tea and teat time.” She said, grinning at our dishevelled appearance and lust-reddened faces.

It was true I was rapidly regaining my strength. I regularly walked around the château courtyard, and often ventured further afield; into the West field, where I had galloped Annette on the recently ploughed earth, and the East field, where Matilde had doused her madge in Medoc wine and then bade me ‘drink’.
The memories further inflamed my ardour, but I was reticent to take Mimi to bed as I feared I might fail the examination she would undoubtedly give me. She had been chaste for over a year, but females do not expend the energy males do when making the beast with two backs. Women may clench, arch their backs, and gyrate, but they do not have to rut with the ferocity of a stag. I also feared a deficiency of the expertise needed to bring a female to her climax, an art requiring constant practice and repetition. I had been celibate for over a year, and although my equipment may be in good order the finer points, and subtleness, of a well-practiced lover would be absent. That was, of course, if my strength held out against a young female’s ardent onslaught. Mimi was nearly ten years my junior, and although I had kept my end up, and in, five young Neapolitan harlots, that was not long after a week of unbridled galloping with Mimi, and before a year of abstinence and an attack of fever.
Overall, I decided to stick to my original plan of getting married before enjoying Mimi. If she could wait so could I, and I admit it would build up a head of steam for the eventual marriage night.

The knowledge that Jean–Woodrow would in time be the Master of Blanchards was another detail occupying my thoughts. He was a sturdy lad, the spit and image of his father, but gave me the impression he was a ‘mummy’s boy’ rather than the rapscallion his father had been at a similar age.
The reason was not hard to determine. Jean-Woodrow was raised surrounded by adoring females, which is fine when a boy has passed puberty and can appreciate the many virtues of young, or even older, women, but not for a pre-pubescent lad. At that age a boy requires a masculine model to emulate, to learn how to conduct himself as a red-blooded male should. I knew if I approached the task of making a man of Jean-Woodrow recklessly or bull headed Mimi would be affronted, but I was determined to assert my influence on Jean–Woodrow before he grew into a milksop.

Jean-Woodrow knew his letters, and could carry out simple arithmetic, as Mimi had been at pains to teach him herself. He was at the age, however, when he needed to go to school, not just to further his education but to experience the hurly burly of the school yard, and assert his position in the pecking order of the class room.
I voiced my thoughts to Mimi one evening after dinner.
“Is there a suitable school in Valenciennes that Jean–Woodrow could attend?”
“Valenciennes is too far for him to attend daily, and I don’t want him sent away to some institution where the inhabitants are beaten and humiliated, like those poor English children are forced to endure. I will engage a tutor for him when the time comes.”
I shook my head. “No sweetheart. You will not be doing the lad any favours by your action. In time, Jean-Woodrow will become The Master of Blanchards, and must discover how to deal with people, and learn how give orders that will be obeyed. He must be in complete control of his house and servants, and he will not acquire those skills from a tutor. He needs to experience the rough and tumble of a school, and learn how to survive without his mother looking after him.”
I took Mimi’s hand and gazed into her eyes. “Allow me to deal with his education, not just in the schoolroom but also in the wider world. I will teach him to hunt and fish, to ride, to shoot and to use the quarterstaff. These activities will not only strengthen his muscles but also his character. Trust me Mimi. I have the boy’s best interests at heart.”
Mimi nodded her head “Yes, Jacques. I see what Jean-Woodrow really requires is a father. You can be as a father to him.” She kissed me hungrily. “And I require a husband. Please do not keep me waiting any longer than necessary.”