The Loire Valley in central France is dotted with elegant, large, stone structures, or manors. Many of these “chateaux,” flanked by rows and rows of fertile vineyards, have been handed down through generations of families.
In 1979, when I learned I would be an au pair for the Dubois Family, I knew they lived in one of these “chateaux,” but there were no photos or descriptions included in their response to my application. Curious, I searched the library (of course there was no internet) and found pictures of Renaissance châteaux from the sixteenth century, but very little information about other manors found in the Loire countryside.
As you’ll see in this excerpt from my memoir, French Illusions, My Story as an American Au Pair in the Loire Valley, it was quite a shock when I first viewed the Château de Montclair. I had just met my new employer, Madame Dubois at the train station and as her car rounded a bend in the road I caught my first glimpse of the magnificent structure that was to be my home.
Loire chateau similar to the one I lived in during my stay in France.
“Built in the mid-1800s, it stood three stories high, topped by tall gables decorated with medallions and leaf designs. Elegant dormer windows on two sides protruded from the roof. Red bricks dominated the building, but cream-colored stones framed all eight of the massive paned windows, four on the first level and four on the second. An intricate stone railing encircled the court off the first floor, and the area below opened up to a massive expanse of grass lawn. We pulled up to the front entrance and I glanced at Madame Dubois, my mouth agape. “It’s unbelievable.”
She smiled and dipped her forehead, a regal motion like a queen to a servant.
The interior of the Château de Montclair proved equally impressive. The ten-thousand-square-foot structure housed eight bedrooms, five bathrooms, a library, and various formal and casual rooms. Moving into the foyer, our heels clicked on the gleaming marble floors and the sound echoed, emphasizing the soaring grandeur of the building.
Twelve-foot ceilings, six-foot tall mahogany wainscoting and intricate built-in dark wood cabinetry highlighted the superior artisanship of the nineteenth century. Period furniture and ancestral art, placed to perfection, made me feel I was touring a museum rather than a home. In almost every room, elaborate colorful flower arrangements welcomed us. The bouquets looked freshly picked—possibly from a garden somewhere on the grounds.
Several times Madame Dubois hastened me along, her fingers gripping my elbow when I stopped to gawk at a sculpture or a painting. “Come this way and I’ll show you the upper floors of the château.”
We climbed the stairs to the second landing and strolled down the hallway, Madame pointing toward closed doors as we passed by. “These are the children’s rooms, but they are already in bed.”
My eyebrows lifted in surprise when she said this. Leaving the children alone to fetch me from the station seemed irresponsible, but then again, it was only a five-minute drive.
When we reached the master bedroom, Madame grasped both handles on the double doors and opened them with a flourish. A large, exquisitely carved mahogany bed dominated the room, complemented on either side by matching nightstands. On the opposite wall, a mirrored dressing table accommodated several perfume bottles with crystal stoppers. Beside the six-foot tall window, a dozen burgundy-red roses sat on their own stand, and two graceful armchairs took their places nearby. The royal and light blue silk bedspread and elegant floor length blue-patterned drapes finished the room.
Standing still, drinking in the scene before me, I obeyed with reluctance when Madame Dubois waved me out.
Continuing up the stairs to the third floor, we entered the first bedroom on the left, one of four on this floor.
“This room is reserved for my au pairs,” Madame Dubois said.
I did a wide-eyed double take. The diminutive room contained a graceful barrel-arched dormer window with two built-in wardrobes on either side. Under the window, there was an inviting, compact desk where I could sit and write while enjoying the view of the valley below. A small, narrow bed rested against the opposite wall, and a comfortable stuffed chair filled the corner. The adjacent room contained a small sink, but nothing else.
“It’s lovely, but where is the bathroom?”
“Down the hall,” she replied, pointing. “I suppose all of this is quite different from your home in the United States?”
“That’s for sure. I never imagined I would live in a place like this.””
I would love to hear from my readers and I promise to reply to your comments. If you would like to learn more about my experiences as a nanny in France, you can purchase a copy of my book at Amazon.com. The audiobook is also available at Audible.com.
Speak Your Mind