‘And I am angry with you! I think your behaviour has been unspeakable! I’ll never forgive you, never!’
A flood of tears, held in check while there was a fight to share with Robert, suddenly overwhelmed her. She sank down on the floor, hands hiding her face, head bowed over her spreading silk skirts. ‘Oh, Mama! Mama! How could you, how could you!’
Nicole knelt beside her. ‘There, there, my dear,’ she soothed, in a voice that was breaking. ‘Don’t cry. It’s over now. It’s all over. You’ll forget it all in time. Everything passes, the hurt gets less.’
‘But why? Why? I don’t understand it!’
Nicole gathered her up to hold her close. They rocked together in a moment of shared grief. Then Delphine realised whose arms were holding her. She pulled free, sprang up, faced her mother like a wildcat. ‘I hate you!’ she cried. ‘I hate you, hate you!’
She ran out of the room. She reached the hall just as Gaspard was opening the door to usher Robert out to the carriage. She ran to Robert’s arms. He caught her, Gaspard in a fluster opened the carriage door. Robert put Delphine in, sprang in after her. ‘Drive away!’ he called to the coachman. ‘Quickly, man, drive!’
The carriage gave a lurch forward with the door still open. It closed as the vehicle moved forward through the wide puddles beyond the porte cochère. Nicole reached the house door to see it pass under the arch.
‘Stop!’ she cried. ‘Stop!’
Her voice was lost in the rattle of the wheels and the clatter of hooves. The carriage careered off. She ran after it, the wild wind throwing rain into her face as she passed the shelter of the porte cochère and came out to the open driveway. The distance between them widened, yet still she ran, her black gown plastered to her breasts by the downpour.
They came out to her with a cloak and an umbrella, to find her standing helpless in the open under the black clouds of the late June evening. Rain poured down, moulding her fine lace cap to her head and gathering in great drops upon her earrings. Whether her face was wet with raindrops or tears, the servants couldn’t determine.
Chapter 19
The journey to Strasbourg via Metz on the mail train took about eleven hours. Delphine and Robert slept fitfully, startled into wakefulness each time the mailbags were loaded and unloaded. Then they would murmur comfort to each other.
‘My mother will help us, darling. She’ll be on our side.’
‘But do you think she can do anything?’
‘She and Aunt Nicole have always been very close ‒ I’m sure that at least is true. Mother will speak up for us, Delphie.’
They reached Strasbourg just before seven. If the hackney-man thought it odd to see a gentleman escort a lady to his cab, he in a frock-coat against the unseasonable cold rain and the lady sheltered in his surtout, he made no mention of it.
Paulette’s house near the Porte de Pierre hadn’t yet roused itself for the day. As a girl Paulette had been used to early rising but, in middle age, she found herself unwilling to leave her comfortable bed ‒ the more so as it still rained each morning.
Her housemaid, Adele, was cleaning out the stove ashes when she heard the key in the lock. She hurried to the vestibule, hiding her dirty hands under her apron. ‘Monsieur Robert!’
‘Ssh … Is my mother up yet?’
‘Not yet, m’sieu. I was going to finish the stove first and then make the coffee.’ Adele was staring with interest at Mademoiselle Delphine, who was leaning on his arm and looking exhausted.
‘We’ll go upstairs to rest, Adele. Mademoiselle Delphine will have Edmond’s room ‒ is the bed made up?’
‘Why, no, sir … I …’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Delphine murmured. ‘If I can just lie down on it for a while ‒ and have some hot water …’
‘Certainly, certainly, mademoiselle. Pray come this way.’ She led the way upstairs, opening Edmond’s room-door with some hesitation, for although it was clean, it was much cluttered with the stuff of Edmond’s hobbies.
Delphine went in, to sit down on the nearest chair. She looked completely spent. ‘Shall I bring you some coffee, mademoiselle? You look as if you could do with it.’
‘Later, Adele, later. First I need a jug of hot water and … and … Could I borrow a dress from you?’
‘A dress? My God, mademoiselle … nothing I own is fit for you to wear!’
‘Anything, Adele, so long as it’s clean and fresh. I feel so … dreary in these damp and muddy things.’
‘Certainly, mademoiselle,’ said Adele, mentally running through her scant wardrobe. The gown she’d had given her by a previous employer and never worn? Dove grey poplin and green trimming … and little matching slippers she’d never been able to get her feet into.
Having seen Delphine looked after, Robert summoned Adele outside. ‘Don’t tell my mother we’re here, Adele.’
‘Oh, it’s a surprise?’
‘Yes, a surprise.’ He suppressed a sigh. ‘What time will she come downstairs?’
Adele glanced out of the landing window streaming with rain. ‘Today … perhaps not until nine-thirty or ten. She likes to read in bed for a bit.’
‘Very well. At nine-thirty, have coffee and croissants for myself and Mademoiselle. Perhaps Mother will like to share a second cup with us.’
When Paulette came downstairs at mid-morning, the scent of freshly made coffee alerted her to something unusual. A little perplexed, she put her head round the kitchen door. ‘Adele, I didn’t ask for more coffee.’
‘It’s for Monsieur Robert and ‒’
‘Robert’s here?’ Paulette flew to the little dining-room.
In the sombre light of the rain-laden sky, her son and Delphine were sitting at the table with the remains of a late breakfast before them. They were both freshly dressed; Delphine had even done her hair quite expertly so that the effects of a whole day’s travelling yesterday were not too evident.
Yet there was something unspeakably weary about them. Paulette hurried in, her heart suddenly in her throat.
‘Robert, my dear! I didn’t expect you?’
‘It’s a sudden decision, Mother. Won’t you welcome Delphine?’
‘Of course, dear. ’ Paulette took both her hands as she stood up, kissed her with affection. ‘You look very pale, Delphine ‒ are you unwell?’
‘Only tired, Aunt Paulie. Oh, it’s so lovely to be here, where someone wants us!’ Delphine broke out, her voice quavering with unhappiness; fatigue, and relief.
‘Wants you? Of course I …’ Paulette hesitated, looked from one to the other. ‘What has happened?’
‘Sit down, Mother. Have some coffee.’
‘Coffee? I don’t want coffee ‒’
‘Sit down, dearest. Delphine and I want to tell you something, something that will surprise you.’
She sat down gingerly on the chair her son was holding for her. She clasped her hands in her lap, tightly, below the level of the table so that he couldn’t see. ‘What is it, Robert?’
‘Mother, Delphine and I are engaged to be married.’
‘No!’ She jumped up, jarring the table so that black coffee flew over the snowy cloth. ‘No, that’s impossible!’
The two young people stared at her. Slowly, tears gathered in Delphine’s eyes and began to brim over. ‘Oh, Aunt Paulie,’ she said in a broken voice, ‘I thought that you at least would be on our side.’
‘What do you mean, impossible?’ Robert said, standing across the breakfast table and watching his mother with astonished eyes. ‘There’s nothing impossible about it. We’re in love and we’ve become engaged.’
‘No! No, you mustn’t, Robert!’
‘But why not? What do you mean?’
‘I … I. .
‘Surely it can’t be so totally unexpected. You must have guessed I loved Delphine ‒’
‘Robert, you mustn’t talk like this. It’s simply not possible.’
‘But why?’ he demanded. He had raised his voice to her, a thing that had
never happened before in her life.
‘Robert … Robert … Don’t be angry …’
‘I’m not angry, Mother.’ He came to her quickly, put his arm around her and made her sit down again. ‘Come now, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout like that. But explain to me ‒ why is it impossible for Delphie and I to plan to get married?’
‘Well, you see … It’s like this …’A moment she’d been dreading for months had actually arrived, and still she was unprepared, still she was floundering. ‘Your Aunt Nicci ‒’
‘My aunt made her opinion quite clear,’ Robert said, terse and tight. ‘We saw her yesterday.’
‘You saw her? Oh then … you see … she told you …?’
‘She told us she had plans for Delphine in which I could play no part. But you’ll talk her round, Mother.’
‘No. No, no, you mustn’t ask it of me. I can’t. It would be wrong.’
‘Wrong? To help two people in love?’
‘Please, Aunt Paulie,’ Delphine put in, with all the affection and trust of seventeen years behind the words. Aunt Paulie was always kind and helpful.
‘No, dear, I can’t. You don’t understand.’
‘What don’t I understand? I know Mama wants me to make an important marriage but she can be talked out of it.’
‘No. You can’t ask me to interfere.’
‘But why not?’
‘Well,’ lied Paulette, ‘I don’t dare forfeit her goodwill. You know, Robert, we owe a lot to your Aunt Nicci. If she hadn’t helped me, I could never have afforded to have you and Edmond so well educated ‒’
‘Make out a bill!’ cried Robert, in a fury. ‘Set down every item she ever paid for, and if it takes me the rest of my life, I’ll pay it back! My God! Are you saying we have to give in to her because she’s richer than we are?’
‘No, it’s not that,’ said his mother, beginning to cry. ‘It’s not that, Robert.’
‘Don’t cry, Mother. I’m sorry I blazed out at you. Don’t, dear.’
She shook her head, leaning over the table and hiding her face with one hand while she sought for her handkerchief with the other. Across her head Delphine looked at Robert. Gone was the hope of support from Aunt Paulette.
‘Dearest Aunt Paulie,’ she said, reaching across to touch her on the arm, ‘we don’t mean to upset you. But this is a time when we need your help. I understand that my mother is a strong character, but please ‒ please talk to her for our sake.’
‘No,’ said Paulette. ‘I won’t, because … because … you see, I agree with her.’
A long, stricken silence met this confession. When she had finished mopping her eyes and looked at them, she found they were totally astounded. At last her son summoned his voice.
‘You agree that Delphie and I shouldn’t think of marriage?’
‘Yes.’
‘But why? What’s the reason?’
‘I … I don’t think cousins should marry.’
Suddenly Robert looked frightened. ‘Is it … is there something in the family? Have I inherited some defect?’ There was much gossip these days of a hereditary disease handed on by the children of Queen Victoria of England to their children. It came into his head that he might suffer from some such malady.
‘No, no! Oh, no! The healthiest child! Except for mumps and measles … No, no, darling, you’re as fit as a fiddle.’
Delphine began to laugh almost hysterically. ‘So he is strong and well, and so am I. And we love each other, and we’re not promised to anyone else, and we want to be engaged. And yet we mustn’t. I don’t understand it.’
‘No. Nor do I. Mother, you can’t really be saying we have to give up all our hopes because of some notion of yours about kinship.’
Paulette let the tears come again. It was a defence: while she was sobbing she couldn’t speak, and so long as she couldn’t speak she could avoid replying to her son’s arguments.
Her son … Oh, if only he were, in reality! How strongly she would have spoken up for him even against Nicole! Yet she could do nothing for him now, in perhaps the most important moment of his life.
Outside in the street the world of Strasbourg was going about its business. But now, added to the normal sounds of traffic, there came the rattle of carriage wheels. The carriage drew up outside.
Delphine leaped to the window. ‘It’s Mama!’ she cried, looking out.
‘Nicci?’ There was thankfulness in Paulette’s cry, although neither of the others noticed it in the confusion of the moment.
Adele had hurried to the street door. Nicole came in, her travelling cloak spattered with rain, her bonnet soaked. She gave them impatiently to Adele as her sister came running out to embrace her.
‘Oh, Nicci!’ Paulette whispered in her ear. ‘What are we going to do?’
Nicole, hugging her, sighed. Then she went ahead of her into the dining-room.
Delphine, she saw, was in some dowdy gown of grey and green, very badly trimmed and a good deal too loose for her. It made her look small, and very tired. Robert on the other hand seemed strong and capable, standing to confront her as she came in.
‘Good morning, madame. How did you know we would be here?’
She shrugged. ‘That was easy. You asked the coachman to take you to Rheims station, and there of course they know you and remembered that you had booked to Strasbourg. Where else would you be but at home?’
‘And now that you’re here, what do you want?’
‘I’ve come to take Delphine back to Tramont.’
Delphine shook her head from side to side. She didn’t speak.
‘Yes, my dear, you must come home with me and forget all this nonsense.’
Robert smote the breakfast table with his fist. ‘Has the world gone mad?’ he said. ‘Why is it nonsense? Why are you both so much against it? All we want is to be engaged for the next three years ‒’
‘Robert, I told you yesterday that I forbid it.’ She looked about her. It was clear they had found no comfort with Paulette ‒ not that she had expected they would. ‘Your mother agrees with me, doesn’t she? So you see, you must give it up.’
‘No. Never.’ It wasn’t said with bravado. It was a simple statement of fact.
‘Yes, you must. I am against long engagements in any case. And within a year or so, Delphine will be married to ‒’
‘No, Mama,’ Delphine said, as calm as Robert. ‘I shall not. I shall refuse everyone you bring. And if I have to go on saying no until I’m twenty-one, I shall do so. Then, when I’ve reached my majority, I shall marry Robert.’
Robert nodded. ‘We’ll wait. We intended to wait to get married in any case. So it’s simply a wait without being engaged. The result will be the same.’
‘Oh,’ cried Paulette, putting both hands up to her face with her handkerchief as a mask, ‘what are we to do? What are we to do?’
Nicole looked from Robert to Delphine and from Delphine to Robert. All she saw was diamond-hard resolution. She saw, too, the father in Robert and something of herself in Delphine. Courage, determination … Patience, too. What they said was true. They would wait until they were of age and then get married.
But she couldn’t allow that to happen.
‘Have I made it clear, madame?’ Robert said. ‘I intend to marry my cousin.’
‘But she is not your cousin, Robert.’
‘What? Not my ‒?’
‘Delphine is your sister.’
For a long moment the only sound in the room was the sobbing of Paulette.
‘That’s impossible,’ Robert said in a low voice.
‘No, it’s true.’
‘My sister?’
‘Half-sister. You have the same mother.’
‘What? The same mother?’ His hand went up, as if to defend himself from what she was saying. ‘You mean that … that you … That Mother …’ He turned in dismay to Paulette. ‘You’re not my mother?’
‘Of course I am!’ sobbed Paulette. ‘At least ‒ I mean ‒ I’ve
been your mother ever since you were born! Oh, Robert, I love you just as much as if you really were my son!’
He moved as if to touch her, but drew back his hand. Then he almost ran out of the room. They heard his footsteps on the stairs. An upstairs door slammed.
‘Well,’ Nicole said in exhaustion, ‘it’s done.’
‘Delphie!’ shrieked her aunt, seeing the girl sway on her chair. ‘Oh, my poor little darling.’ She ran to the door. ‘Adele, Adele, bring the smelling salts!’
After some moments the mists cleared for Delphine. Someone was patting her wrists with eau de cologne, someone else was giving her sips of brandy. She lifted her head up and looked about. Her mother was kneeling beside her with a brandy glass in her hand. ‘Mama …’
‘You’re all right, darling. You’ve had a bad shock.’
‘I thought you … Oh!’ The memory rushed back. She pushed away the glass, tried to get up.
‘Stay where you are, dear. You’re not yourself yet.’
‘Let go of me, Aunt Paulie. Let me go! I must … I want…’
‘Keep still. Everything is all right.’
‘All right?’ cried Delphine. In her voice was all the misery of the knowledge that had just been forced on her.
Nothing in her life would ever be all right again.
Chapter 20
Delphine was persuaded to go and lie down on the chaise longue in the sitting-room, first taking a little sodium bromide in hopes she might sleep. Nicole and Paulette went back to the dining-room, where Adele had provided fresh coffee and fresh bread for Nicole, who was almost as exhausted as her daughter.
‘What are we to do now, sister?’ asked Paulette.
‘I think they’ll need little persuasion to separate now. I’ll take Delphine home, and of course Robert will go to Paris to enter l’École des Arts, so they needn’t see each other for months and months.’
‘Ye-es … But what are we to tell Edmond?’
‘Need we tell him anything?’
‘But then … Old Madame … she seems to have encouraged them.’
‘I’ll tell her it came to nothing. Paulie, I’ve dreaded this ever since you first drew my attention to the possibility, and one of the lesser miseries was how to live with Old Madame if she found out …’
The Wine Widow Page 25