Kelda glanced up at him curiously. The lines on his face were deeply etched as if even speaking of what had happened brought back the pain and what she knew were the lines of disillusionment.
“I think I must have been married for two months,” Lord Orsett said after a pause, “when I understood the reason for Ginette’s eagerness to become my wife.”
As she felt that she must know the answer, Kelda asked in a voice just above a whisper,
“What – was it?”
“She had met the Prince of Wales, the Heir to the Throne, in France. She had become infatuated with him or rather with his position and the glamorous aura that surrounded him. She then followed him to England, determined to have what she considered the honour of becoming his mistress.”
“Oh – no!” Kelda murmured.
“The Prince, however, made it clear that he never indulged in love affairs with unmarried women. All his mistresses were married with complacent husbands. That was the part that my wife had assigned to me in this drama.”
Kelda drew in her breath.
Whatever she had expected to hear, it was not this.
“When I learnt the truth, the whole truth,” Lord Orsett said harshly, “I told Ginette that she had been mistaken, that I not only refused to be placed in such an invidious position but I would not allow anyone who bore my name to disgrace it.”
For a moment Lord Orsett’s voice seemed to ring out in the flower-scented room.
Then he continued more quietly,
“I had heard of Dakar. I was also already interested in Africa, then a little-known part of the world. I brought Ginette, despite her protests, out here and she died two years later.”
His voice seemed to die away into the shadows and there was a silence until Kelda said very softly,
“I am – sorry. It must have – hurt you a great deal.”
“I suppose ‘hurt’ is the right word,” he replied, “but it was my pride that suffered most. I could not bear to be sneered at, laughed at behind my back or treated to the winks and nudges that other men in the same position endured. When Ginette died, it would have been possible for me to return home, but by then I did not want to go back.”
“So you – stayed to write your – book.”
“I began my research for it,” Lord Orsett corrected. “I travelled all over Africa, meeting different tribes, living with them, learning a great deal about their customs that nobody had ever known before.”
“It must have been very – exciting.”
“I had built this house,” Lord Orsett went on, “and, when it was finished, I found I liked being here and I enjoyed the isolation. I no longer missed the friends I had known in England. When I wanted companionship, there were always intelligent men like the Governor-General to talk to.”
He paused.
The word, ‘companionship’ made Kelda think of Antoinette and, as if he knew what she was thinking, Lord Orsett said after a moment,
“You have by now realised that the French understand better than the English that a man, whatever his position, needs a woman in his life.”
Kelda found it hard to breathe.
Of course Lord Orsett, being so handsome and attractive, had wanted women and they had wanted him.
She could see almost as if she stood in the room the beauty and grace of Antoinette, the strong outline of her features, the golden texture of her skin against the purple boubous and the jewelled necklace, which Lord Orsett must have given her.
Then, as once again she knew that feeling of despair and agony which had made her cry when she had gone up to her bedroom, she felt that she could not bear to hear him telling her how much Antoinette meant to him and how, even though they were now married, he could not give her up.
She had a feeling that he would ask her to be sympathetic, to accept the fact that their position as man and wife was not an ordinary one and accustom herself to the French way of life.
She remembered now reading about the Kings of France, who always had both a wife and a mistress and that such a situation was accepted not only by the Court but by the French nation as a whole.
She felt, however, that she might cry out that she just could not bear it and that it was something she could not endure.
To control herself she clasped her fingers together with such intensity that they hurt and she forced herself not to move as Lord Orsett went on,
“Because Dakar, like the many other French outposts, is isolated from Europe and even news of their relatives is much delayed in reaching those who live here and that is why the Government and the Companies the men work for recommend marriage to local women.”
He paused.
“Those who do not marry have, of course, mistresses and the arrangement, as I told you and Yvette when you arrived, has certain business-like rules attached to it, which are strictly adhered to.”
“I remember – that,” Kelda murmured.
“The métises with their French blood make it easier for the more fastidious men to accept them because many are in fact well educated, while the majority of the natives are completely illiterate.”
So Antoinette, Kelda thought, was clever as well as beautiful.
It was what she might have expected where Lord Orsett was concerned and she thought that perhaps there was nothing original in thinking that she might be of help to him with his book when Antoinette would know a great deal about the local tribes and could be of real assistance to him.
She could doubtless supply every detail he required on all the subjects that interested him and, if he travelled away from Dakar, she could go with him.
Kelda thought with dismay that her very last hope of being able to help Lord Orsett lay smashed, as were her other dreams and ideals.
Again she wanted to say that there was no point in her hearing any more.
He would make it very clear that there was no part for her in his life except as a woman who would sit at the head of his table when he entertained and accompany him on Official occasions.
Otherwise she would be alone, while Antoinette shared with him everything that really mattered.
She wanted to cry out that it was unfair and that in the circumstances he should never have married her.
The pain she felt was the same pain she had known when she had first been taken to the orphanage and realised that she no longer had any identity or personality of her own and was just one of a number of faceless forgotten children.
“What I am explaining to you,” Lord Orsett was saying, “is the position that Antoinette has occupied in my life.”
“I-I understand that – already,” Kelda said quickly.
She felt as she spoke that she could not bear to hear more and did not want to listen to what he had to tell her of what the métise had meant to him and how it would be impossible for him to give her up.
Lord Orsett ignored her interruption and merely carried on,
“Antoinette had no right to come here today and I told her so. But she has enough French blood in her to be very shrewd, business-like and calculating where money is concerned.”
Kelda raised her head wonderingly.
“Antoinette has been with me for three years,” Lord Orsett said, “and during that time she has been assiduously accumulating every penny I have given herm, so that as soon as our liaison was over, she could marry another métise, who has also been saving so that they can start a shop together.”
Now Kelda stared at Lord Orsett in astonishment.
“You mean – even while she was with you – she wished to – marry someone else?”
“I have just told you, these things are well arranged in Dakar and in all French Colonial communities. Antoinette was intelligent enough to know that the one thing she needed was money and the easiest way to obtain it was to become the mistress of a rich man.”
“But – she must have – loved you?”
“I don’t think that the word has ever occurred to her where I am concerned,” Lor
d Orsett replied. “She found me generous, I provided her with comforts she would not otherwise have had and she was very discreet. That is, of course, understood in the arrangement between a man and his mistress the world over.”
As if he thought that Kelda still did not comprehend what he was saying, he explained further,
“It is a mistress’s object to get as much from her protector as she can. They both accept that when the arrangement is over there will be no hard feelings and no recriminations. The man pays for the pleasure he has had, but that is all. It finishes without dramatics.”
“And – Antoinette does not mind – losing you?”
The question was hardly audible, but Lord Orsett heard it.
“I doubt if she will ever shed a single tear on my behalf,” he said with a smile. “In fact I would be very surprised if she is not at this moment celebrating with her young man because the large sum of money that I gave her this afternoon will enable their marriage to take place immediately.”
“I-I don’t – understand,” Kelda said almost to herself.
It was impossible to sit listening to Lord Orsett any longer and she rose from her seat and walked to the window pushing aside the curtains so that she could look out.
The window was not closed and, although it was much cooler than it had been during the day, the night air was warm and moist.
Outside the moonlight was silver on the sea and the sky glittered with stars.
But Kelda was looking into her heart and wondering why the things Lord Orsett had told her seemed suddenly to have melted away the heaviness that she had felt, which had grown and grown in her breast until she had been almost stifled by it.
Then, as she stood there, she felt Lord Orsett close behind her.
“I have made my explanations,” he said quietly, “and now I think it is only fair that you should explain two things to me.”
“What – are – they?”
“First, why you have been crying and second why you told me that women have hearts.”
Again because his voice was so quiet and gentle, she found herself too moved to answer him and after a moment he said,
“That they have hearts was something that I thought only existed in romantic fiction. As I have just told you, the women I have known have used me for their own ends. That I am therefore diabolical, as you once said I am, is surely no surprise.”
“I am – sorry I said that,” Kelda murmured. “It is – not true.”
“Women have hearts,” he repeated ruminatively. “I would so like to see some sign of it. Have you a heart, Kelda?”
“I hope – so.”
“I meant, of course, where I am concerned. What do you feel about me?”
His question Kelda felt was quite impossible to answer and she tried wildly to think of what she should say.
And then Lord Orsett went on,
“I expected you to say that you would marry the Governor-General. After all his position is far more important than mine. He would also be likely to die sooner and leave you a rich woman.”
“Do you – imagine that I would ever – think of something like that?”
“Being you, I suppose not,” Lord Orsett replied, “but I am sure it is the way that most modern women would think.”
“Only the women – you have known,” Kelda said. “I believe that women want to – love a man for – himself and not for what he can give them.”
“And you have known many women like that?”
“Yvette would not marry for money, she would have married Rémy even if he had not a penny to his name.”
“And you are like her?”
Kelda did not answer and after a moment he insisted,
“You have not answered my other question.”
“I don’t – know what you – asked,” Kelda responded almost defiantly.
“You are not very good at lying,” Lord Orsett said. “This morning when we were riding together I knew that something was worrying you and that you were tense and apprehensive. I admit I did not guess the reason, but I knew what you were feeling.”
He was right but Kelda would not admit it and he continued,
“Then when we drove to our Wedding, you were frightened and I could understand that. On the way back your fear gradually faded away and over luncheon you were almost happy. I could feel it reaching out towards me as if you felt you had found something that you had been searching for and something that made you feel different from how you had ever felt before.”
Kelda was so surprised by what he was saying that she turned round to look at him.
Now in the light both from the candles and the moonlight outside she saw an expression in his eyes that made her heart start beating furiously and she could not look away.
“But Antoinette came to see me,” Lord Orsett said very quietly, “and when I came back into the dining room you were unhappy and, when you told me that women have hearts, your voice broke.”
As he spoke, he came a step nearer to her and yet Kelda could not take her eyes from his.
“Then you cried,” he went on, “tears that I think came from your heart, a heart that I am quite certain you have, although I would like to believe that it belonged to me.”
Now once again his voice was gentle and so compelling that Kelda felt the tears well into her eyes and, before she could stop them, they ran down her cheeks.
She tried to turn away, but Lord Orsett’s arms were round her.
“Are those tears for me, Kelda?” he asked. “If so, they are very precious.”
She could not answer, she could only hide her face against his shoulder and he felt her whole body trembling.
His lips were against her hair as he demanded,
“I want your heart, Kelda. I want it more than I have ever wanted anything in my whole life, but I am so afraid, so desperately afraid, of being disillusioned as I have been before.”
Because of the pain in his voice and because there was also a hint of fear that Kelda had never expected to hear from him, she was no longer afraid.
“Y-you – want me?” she asked. “You – really want me?”
“It is difficult to tell you how much.”
“She is – so beautiful. I thought that I could mean – nothing – to you.”
Lord Orsett smiled very tenderly.
“I have tried to make you understand why I have not loved anyone for many years and what I feel for you is different from anything I have ever felt before.”
“Is – that true?”
Kelda was looking up at him.
The tears were still on her cheeks, but her eyes were shining and the question seemed to throb not only on her lips but through her whole body.
“I love you!” Lord Orsett said positively. “I have loved you from the moment I saw you, but I told myself it was just another illusion and there was no chance that you would care for me except that I am a rich man.”
“How – could you – believe that it would – matter?”
He looked down at her, a faint smile on his lips.
Then he said,
“Tell me what I want to hear. Say it, my darling!”
The colour rose in her cheeks as she whispered in such a low voice that he could hardly hear her,
“I love – you! I know now that is why I – cried – because I thought I had – lost you and you would – never have any ‒ use for me.”
The last words were lost as Lord Orsett’s lips came down on hers holding her captive.
Then, as he kissed her, Kelda knew that this was what she had wanted and what she had always longed for.
She felt as if the moon and the stars outside, the fragrance of the flowers around them and the beauty of the sunshine of Dakar were all in the sensation that Lord Orsett’s kiss gave her.
At the same time there was only him and he filled the whole world and the sky.
He drew her closer and closer and his lips became more demanding, more passionate and yet Kelda was not
afraid.
She thought for one wild moment that if only she could die now she would have known the perfection and glory of love that she thought could never ever be hers.
Then she knew that she so wanted to live. She wanted to live for the love she had found with the man who drew her poor, starved, hungry little soul from her body and made it his.
He kissed her until the rapture of it made her feel as if she could no longer think but only feel as if her whole body vibrated to an untamed music that could only come from God.
Then, as Lord Orsett raised his head, she gave a murmur of protest because she could not bear to lose the ecstasy that he had given her and she sighed incoherently,
“I – love you – how can I – tell you how – much I love you?”
“I just want you to go on saying it, my darling, until I believe you and you believe me and there is nothing else of any significance in the world.”
“How – could there – be ?” Kelda asked.
Then he was kissing her again.
*
Kelda stirred and realised, with a feeling of inexpressible happiness running through her, that her head was on her husband’s shoulder and the pale dawn sunshine was seeping through the curtains.
She moved a little closer to him and said, as if she could not believe it,
“You are – there.”
“I am here, my darling one.”
“How – could I go to – sleep and – lose you even for a moment?”
“I was holding you close,” he answered, “and you know now that we can never lose each other again.”
“Do you – still love – me?”
He smiled and kissed her forehead.
“Are you really asking me such a foolish question? But actually it is one I meant to ask you.”
‘That would be even – more foolish,” Kelda replied. “I did not know it was possible that a man could be so wonderful – so strong and yet so gentle and – exciting.”
“Did I excite you?”
She thought that there was a faint touch of laughter in his voice that she had not heard before.
Because she was shy, she turned her face against his shoulder once again.
“You – know you – did.”
“Not half as much as I mean to do in the future. I have just so much to teach you, my precious one.”
Women have Hearts Page 15