“I thought I heard you moving about,” she said. “I have been too excited to sleep and so I have been sorting out a whole lot of things that you can wear until we can buy some more.”
“I am sure I ought not to take them,” Kelda protested, but Yvette did not listen to her.
She brought in from her cabin a whole pile of gowns, underclothes, nightgowns, so many that Kelda could only gasp and find it hard to express her thanks.
“You must not give me all ‒ those!” she expostulated.
“I have enough for my immediate needs,” Yvette answered, “and actually I wrote to my cousin in Paris, who always helps me choose my gowns, and told her to send me as quickly as possible a whole mass of dresses which I shall need in Dakar.”
“But you brought dozens from London,” Kelda exclaimed.
“London clothes are not as smart as anything that comes from Paris,” she replied. “But what a good thing from your point of view that I bought so much.”
That was certainly true, Kelda thought and she sorted out what Yvette had given her and could hardly believe that after all these years she was actually to look what she described to herself as ‘a human being’.
She and Yvette were the same height, but Kelda was very much thinner and she sat down at once taking in the gowns at the waist.
Yvette had, as was fashionable, a small waist, much pinched in, but Kelda’s was smaller still and entirely natural.
Although Yvette had insisted that she should have a pair of her beautifully made French corsets, there was really no need for them because after years of work and running up and down innumerable stairs dozens of times a day and having so little to eat, there was not a spare ounce of flesh on Kelda’s body.
Only the fact that she was very young and perfectly made ensured that the curves of her breasts were very feminine and, although she was unaware of it, when she was naked she did look like a statue of a Greek Goddess.
When she was finally all dressed up in Yvette’s lace-trimmed underclothes, wearing silk stockings for the first time in her life and a gown that had cost an astronomical sum in the Rue de la Paix, she thought that she would be too shy ever to leave her cabin.
“I really cannot go out like this,” she said to Yvette in a kind of panic. “What will people think?”
“What people?” Yvette asked. “I doubt if those old fossils outside will even notice you. But you look very attractive, dearest Kelda, and, if Rémy prefers you to me, I swear I will kill you!”
Kelda laughed.
“I think it is very unlikely, but – Yvette, I don’t know how to – thank you.”
Her voice broke on the words and the tears started to run down her cheeks.
It was not only the clothes that were so lovely, it was that after being treated as a ‘charity child’ and being crushed for so long the transformation did something for her very spirit and she felt as if she was a phoenix rising from the ashes of herself.
Yvette hugged her.
“If you cry, you will then spoil the whole effect and I want Rémy to be stunned by your appearance. After all it was his idea. Let’s go now and show him right away. He is waiting for me.”
Feeling shyer than she had ever felt before, Kelda followed Yvette from their cabin to the forward lounge where Rémy Mendès was waiting for them.
As she entered the room, she saw his eyes widen for a moment in astonishment.
Then he threw out his hands to cry,
“C’est magnifique! I congratulate you, Yvette. It is exactly how I want her to be.”
“You are – both so – kind,” Kelda murmured, finding it hard to speak.
“Sit down,” Rémy Mendès suggested. “We are going to celebrate two things, first of all, Mademoiselle Lawrence, we are going to drink to the future of Yvette and myself. Then we are going to drink to yours and I have a feeling that it is going to be very different from what you thought it might be when you came aboard.”
“If it is,” Kelda said, “it is entirely thanks to you, monsieur.”
“I shall certainly take the credit,” he smiled, “when your marriage follows ours.”
Yvette clapped her hands together.
“You are so clever. Of course, when we do go to Paris, we shall find dearest Kelda a delightful husband, someone very distinguished and very rich.”
“Just like me!” Rémy said with a twinkle in his eye.
“There could not be anyone quite as wonderful as you,” Yvette added.
“I don’t want you to think of me,” Kelda said in a low voice, “but you know what I think about you.”
They had forgotten for a moment that Kelda was there and she thought when she raised her glass of champagne to them, that she had never seen two people look so happy.
“It is just like a Fairytale,” she said to Yvette later that evening when she was dressing for dinner in an evening gown that she thought was as beautiful as Titania herself might have worn on a Midsummer’s night.
“Of course it is,” Yvette agreed, “and Rémy is my Prince Charming and I am not only his Princess but your Fairy Godmother!”
“I could certainly go to a ball in this gown,” Kelda murmured.
“But you will, of course, you will. When we go to Paris, there will be a ball every night. Rémy loves dancing just as I do and he says his father will give the most spectacular ball that Paris has ever seen when we announce our engagement.”
There were so many things to plan and, as they steamed down the coast of Africa, Yvette was busy when she was not with Rémy making lists of everything she wanted to buy in Paris.
“You cannot want twenty sunshades!” Kelda expostulated.
“I hardly think twenty will be enough,” Yvette replied. “After all one with each summer ensemble and, don’t forget, it will be summer almost as soon as we are married.”
Only when she was alone did Kelda find herself worrying about Lord Orsett.
He did not now seem to be as terrifying as he had done when they first boarded the ship at Southampton, when Kelda in despair had been crying every night as she remembered Mrs. Gladwin reiterating over and over again that she was to come straight home as soon as his Lordship had no further need of her services.
At the same time, when she thought about it seriously, Kelda could not help feeling that Lord Orsett might easily take the attitude that Yvette was too young to know her own mind.
She seemed, Kelda thought, older than most girls of her age because of the very social life she had led in Paris and also because she was intelligent
In actual years she was not quite eighteen and she had the uncomfortable feeling that it would matter more to Lord Orsett than anything else.
She was quite certain that he would not be the type of person who would dig deeply into somebody’s character but would judge them entirely superficially.
That she thought, was exactly what Rémy Mendès thought about him, although he was too tactful to say so. Otherwise he would not have been so insistent that she should change her appearance.
But she was deeply grateful to him for having done so.
Now she need no longer pull her hair into a tight bun at the back of her head as Mrs. Gladwin had made her do, but could arrange it fashionably so it looked soft and feminine and she knew that then she looked more like her mother.
For the first time since she had found herself alone in the world, she felt unrestricted as if she could behave as she wished to.
Always before she had been forced into acting the part of a ‘charity child’ who must not show she was better bred or better taught than the other children around her or a servant in a Seminary who must always remember to respect those who felt themselves superior to her.
Now that she could talk as an equal with Rémy Mendès and Yvette, she felt as if the years of misery had rolled away like a cloud and now she was just her father’s and mother’s daughter.
It was as if she was travelling with them on an expedition, which was an adven
ture that was filled with laughter and gaiety because they were all together.
Every night, when she said her prayers, she said one of gratitude for Yvette’s friendship and for what she knew was a God-given chance of escape.
‘Please, God, let it go on happening,’ she prayed. ‘Don’t let Lord Orsett spoil everything by sending me back to England before I have a chance to find anything else to do. And – please – if it is possible – let me go to Paris with Yvette – please – please – ’
It was a cry that came from her very soul because it was almost impossible to have any real confidence in this newfound happiness that had come to her so unexpectedly like sun on a dark day.
Because she knew that she would always be eternally grateful to Yvette, she prayed for her too.
‘She is in love,’ she told God. ‘Let her and Rémy always love each other – please, God – and make Lord Orsett allow them to marry soon.’
It was a prayer that she said not only in her cabin at night but whenever she saw them together.
There was no doubt now that their love had grown until it was difficult for either of them to see anyone else except each other.
There was an admiration in Rémy’s eyes when he looked at Yvette that could not have been anything but sincere and Yvette loved him in a manner that told Kelda, who knew her so well, that her emotion was not just a part of her heart but of her very soul.
‘They are so very lucky,’ she told herself, ‘they have found what everyone in the world seeks which is the other part of themselves and nothing and nobody must ever separate them.’
She felt as she spoke, almost as if she was Joan of Arc with her sword in her hand ready to do battle for what was right and what was true.
As the idea flashed through her mind, she knew that, if it had to be a battle or a crusade, she was already completely and absolutely dedicated to fight it.
Chapter Three
The ship steamed into the Port of Dakar in the early afternoon.
It was very hot, but there was a soft touch of the trade winds to keep the waves dancing and to sweep away the oppression and humidity of the heat.
To Kelda the golden sunshine made her feel as if it seeped into her body, melting away the last of the cold and awakening a new vitality inside her.
Now that the moment had come when they must leave the ship, she felt as if she could not bear to say ‘goodbye’.
She wanted it all to go on for ever, steaming away to an unknown horizon, and the fact that her whole life and outlook seemed to have changed since she came aboard made her feel as if she must say ‘farewell’ to a place that had given her the security of a home.
Also, because they were nearing the moment when Yvette must meet her Guardian, she knew that they were all apprehensive and more than a little nervous.
Although Yvette put a brave face on it and said that she was no longer afraid because she was with Rémy, Kelda knew perceptively that Rémy was feeling anvious too.
There was no doubt that he had much to offer to the woman he would marry. At the same time, knowing how snobby the French aristocrats were, Kelda was sure that the de Villons would not think him Yvette’s equal in blood.
The real question was what would Lord Orsett think?
For her it was so exciting to be in Africa and have the chance of visiting a country that she had never seen before that Kelda kept on wishing over and over again that her father was with her.
The coast they were sailing along seemed flatter and lower than she had expected, but standing on deck she had been able to see shores of golden sand with coconut trees growing down to the beach.
As they neared Dakar, she could see, as the City jutted out into the Atlantic, that there were a number of houses with trees clustering protectively around them.
The Captain of the ship had told them when they were nearing Dakar that it had a natural deep-water Port.
He had spoken too of the Island of Gorée, which lay within only a mile off the coast, but which he said bore the curse of the slave trade that had made it wealthy.
Kelda had shivered as he spoke for she had read of the horrors of slavery and the misery of those who were captured and sold suffered when, battened down in the holds of ships, they were carried all over the world.
She tried not think of their sufferings, but to concentrate on looking at Dakar as the ship edged its way slowly into Port.
Yvette and Rémy came up to join her as she stood at the rail looking at the crowds below them.
“There is his Lordship’s carriage waiting for you,” Rémy declared in a low voice.
He pointed and Kelda and Yvette saw a very smart open carriage drawn by two horses with a white cotton fringed awning to keep off the sun.
There was a coachman wearing an elaborate livery which seemed somehow out of place in the heat and a footman attired in the same way was standing with the crowds staring up at the ship, as if trying to identify those he had come to meet.
“Is my uncle with them?” Yvette asked warily.
“I cannot see him,” Rémy replied, “and it would be unlike him to meet a ship himself whoever he was expecting as a guest.”
His words brought back to Kelda the fact that Lord Orsett was said to be a recluse and she had the uncomfortable feeling that he was already reaching out towards them, spoiling the light-hearted enjoyment with which they had spent the last week of the voyage.
She had been happy and full of laughter because she felt so different.
Every time she put on one of Yvette’s beautiful gowns she felt as if it transformed not only her appearance but also her character and her personality.
Now she no longer suppressed the intelligent things she wanted to say and now she could laugh without being afraid of receiving a rebuke and, most of all, she had a new confidence in herself.
Because Yvette was so kind, she no longer felt afraid all of the time of what tomorrow would bring or of losing her job.
She was ashamed of herself for having been so weak and humble for so long. But she had been menaced by the fact that Mrs. Gladwin could, if she so wished, throw her into the street without a reference and without any money to save her from starving.
It was easy to say that the knowledge that she was very intelligent should have made her believe that she would find work somewhere, but who then would want a ‘charity child’ with nothing to recommend her except for what she could say about herself?
Now everything was changed, Yvette was her friend and she was dressed as her mother would have liked to see her and, unless all their plans were reversed, Yvette and Rémy would look after her and she would no longer be completely alone in the world.
“You are – both so – kind,” she had said last night when once again they had all toasted their future.
There had been tears in her voice and Rémy had smiled at her.
“We want to be kind to you, Kelda,” he said, “and I shall always be grateful to you for all you have done for my future wife.”
“You know I love you,” Yvette had said, “and, when we reach Paris, Rémy has a plan for you. He is sure that one of his three sisters would love you to teach her children English.”
Kelda had, with difficulty, restrained her tears.
“It is like – coming into the – sunshine,” she said, “after being enveloped in a – fog for years and years.”
“That is just what your future will be,” Rémy replied. “But don’t forget that tomorrow you have to meet Lord Orsett.”
There was silence for a moment while all three were thinking what this might mean to them.
“Will you come with us to his house?” Yvette asked Rémy. “If you would, meeting him would not seem so frightening.”
“I am sure that would be a mistake,” Rémy replied. “He would think I was presuming. I will call formally the day after you arrive. I think it would be unwise for you to tell him that we are engaged until I have asked his permission to pay my addresses to you.”
>
“I will do whatever you say,” Yvette replied.
She had spoken in a low voice and Kelda could see that her eyes were troubled.
Now, as the ship came nearer to the quay, Yvette hung frantically on to Rémy’s arm.
“We had better go below and get ready to go ashore,” Kelda said, “and don’t forget we have to thank the kind old people who have looked after us on the voyage.”
“We will thank them for not doing so,” Yvette replied irrepressibly.
Nevertheless she made a pretty little speech, which delighted the Minister and his wife.
Then, after an impassioned farewell to Rémy, she and Kelda waited in their cabins until there was a knock on the door.
When they pulled it open, there was an elderly man outside very correctly dressed, who explained that he had come on behalf of Lord Orsett to escort them ashore and would collect their luggage after they had left in the carriage for his Lordship’s mansion.
They started off down the gangway, Yvette looking over her shoulder as she went for a last glimpse of Rémy. Then the crowds moved aside for them to walk to the carriage.
After the elderly man had helped them into it, the footman jumped up on the box and the horses started off and he stood bare-headed until they had departed.
Now, as they drove down the tree-bordered streets, Kelda had her first chance to look at the people and realised that they were very different from those she had seen when she was in Algiers.
The very first thing she noticed was the kaleidoscope of colour shown in the voluminous boubous of the native women. In brilliant blues, purples, greens and pinks, they swept along the roadside looking like huge flowers, their heads swathed in colourful turbans and their feet bare, but their wrists weighed down with jingling bangles.
If the women were impressive, Kelda thought that the men were surely magnificent.
Very tall, they had the broadest shoulders she had ever seen, tapering down to narrow hips and they walked with an athletic grace that again was different from any native she had seen in other parts of the world.
‘Papa would be able to tell me about them and of their different tribes,’ she mused.
Women have Hearts Page 5