As you might gather, I was exceedingly grateful to find that my request was to be fulfilled so instantly, but also somewhat disordered by the circumstances. You see, I had not yet decided how I was to put my proposed journey to Madame de Buffon. To make matters worse, the trial of the King at the National Convention was approaching its conclusion and the vote which would determine his fate was due to be called imminently. My friend had insisted that we attend the following day so as to hear the speeches. She had impressed upon me the importance of this, for she confessed that Orléans was ‘labouring under the worst torments of his conscience and I must offer solace to him at such a time’.

I paced the cold, draught-swept room, fretfully knitting my fingers together as I contemplated how I might approach this unpleasant errand. It required very little time to conclude that it would be impossible for me to reveal the truth to her. I could not very well confess that the visit I proposed was in order to formulate plans for my departure from France, and certainly not upon the eve of such a critical event. La Buffon had been entirely distracted by this and by her fears that should Orléans abstain, he would send a message to all the nation that he was not the patriot he professed to be. I shrank at the thought of abandoning her at such a moment. I shuddered that I should be made to fib yet again. I shut my eyes. How might I remain true to one friend without being false to the other? Certainly, I consoled myself, after I had paid Mrs Elliot this call, I should never be forced to tell untruths or betray either of them again. I would be at liberty to make decisions in accordance with my heart’s dictates, and was this not worth the spinning of one final lie, so that I might live in peace with myself thereafter?

I settled beside the low fire in my hearth and with my fur pulled about me began to construct this piece of fabrication. I would inform her that Mrs Elliot was unwell, gravely so. I would embellish this by claiming that she had called for me to come to her bedside and, as her relation, I could not deny such a request. Likewise, I would explain to La Buffon that as Mrs Elliot and I were of a different opinion on matters political, I would not entertain any talk of such affairs. Neither would I tolerate any abuse of Madame’s name. This would be a time of forgiveness and farewells, for should it occur, I would not wish her to depart this world without having received these things from me.