The Launching of Roger Brook rb-1

by Dennis Wheatley

  Her mouth went sullen, but she now seemed dazed and did not reply.

  Taking a long strip of the linen that he had already prepared for the purpose, he tied one end of it round her left wrist then, having passed the loose end behind her back, he secured it to her right wrist. This single, soft bond still allowed her to raise her hands in front to breast-height and, as it was imperceptible to he upon, would not, he hoped, seriously interfere with her sleeping.

  Fixing Mere Sufflot with a steely glance he said: "You will not untie that bandage even on a direct order from Mademoiselle. On no account are you to let the fire die down, and you are to keep the windows open. Should Mademoiselle grow worse in the night you are to send for me at once. I am the master here now, and these are my orders. If you carry them out fully I will see to it that you are well rewarded, but fail to obey them and I will have you put in the pillory."

  Athenais's eyes flickered up for an instant and her mouth fell a little open; but she said nothing, and made him only a slight inclination of the head as he bowed formally to her, and wished her good rest, before leaving the room.

  Up in his own room he washed his face and hands in vinegar and water and, after gargling with the same simple antiseptic, chewed a clove of garlic to a pulp, then spat out the pieces. He hated the stuff but believed it to be, as in fact is the case, a natural absorbent of poisons, and it was one of the simple hints to the preservation of health that he had picked up from old Aristotle Fenelon.

  On getting into bed the familiar room, in which he had slept for so many months, recalled to him his dream about Georgina. He had never received any reply to the long letter he had written to her the previous April, and he wondered if she had, after all this time, become too immersed in her own affairs to bother with him any more, or if it had gone astray. But it was, no doubt, his thinking of her that caused him to dream of her again.

  She was standing by his bedside shaking him by the shoulder and saying: "Get up, Roger! Get up, d'you hear! That silly little creature you're so distracted about needs your attention."

  He woke with a start, to find himself shouting angrily: "She's not a silly little creature! She's "

  Then he broke off with a laugh. No doubt Georgina would regard Athenais as spoilt, stupid, and intolerably conceited, but that did not affect the fact that he loved her; and he had no hesitation in taking the dream as a warning.

  On looking at his watch he found it to be one o'clock. Slipping on his bed-robe he went down to the floor below and along to Athenais's room. Opening the door he tiptoed inside. On emerging from behind the screen he saw that Athenais was asleep, snoring gently through her small, curved nose. But Mere Sufflot was also sleeping soundly; the fire beside which she sat had almost died out, and the chill of the night air coming through the still open windows made him shiver.

  Roger could be completely ruthless where the interests near his heart were concerned. Advancing with catlike tread on the old mid-wife, he suddenly thrust out both hands and gripped her firmly- round the neck, so that she could not cry out. She woke with a violent start'

  Squeezing her neck tighter he gave her a rough shake and, stooping, whispered in her ear:

  "Get on your knees and mend that fire piece by piece. If a log falls and wakes Mademoiselle I'll have the hide flayed off you. What is more, if when I come down next she is not still sleeping and you awake I'll strangle you with my own hands."

  It was, he knew, the sort of language that a woman of her type, on having failed in her duty, would expect; and the only sort of treat­ment that would make any impression on her drink-sodden old brain. When her eyes were bulging he released his grip, and with a smothered cough she obediently set to getting the fire back into a blaze.

  On returning to his bed he only dozed, and he went down to Athenais's room again about four o'clock in the morning. She had turned on her side and was now sleeping quietly. The room was fresh but pleasantly warm and the old harridan, still wide awake, was sitting bolt upright in her chair. As he tiptoed in she gave him a terrified glance but, to her amazement, he patted her gently on the shoulder, and tiptoed out again.

  From four to seven he slept soundly, and was roused only by his petit dejeuner being brought to him. When he had dressed he sought out Aldegonde and insisted on the major-domo taking him round the servants' quarters. He found that fifteen of the younger members of the staff were down with the sickness, but that several of the older servants, who had already had the disease, were tending them with care. Appropriately enough, he thought cynically, these people are willing to look after one another, but they are quite content to leave their master's daughter in the hands of a besotted old mid-wife.

  Relieved of further worry about the sick servants he went up to see Athenais. She was awake; but immediately he came in she turned her back to him, so he refrained from speaking to her. To Mere Sufflot he said: "You can doze now if you wish, as I shall be coming in during the morning to keep the fire going." He then went down to the library and waited impatiently for the doctor.

  It was half-past eleven before Dr. Gonnet, who had ridden ten miles from Montfort, put in an appearance; and when he did Roger was not impressed by him. He was old, not without shrewd common sense, but a country practitioner who made no secret of the fact that he eked out an existence by attending on the peasantry, and had little leisure to keep abreast with the latest discoveries in medicine. He reported that Athenais was progressing favourably, approved Roger's measures for making her more comfortable, but shook his head dubiously over the open windows.

  Immediately he had gone Roger went out to the stables in search of Chenou. They greeted one another with their old friendliness and the chief huntsman said feelingly:

  "Thank God you are come to us, Monsieur Breuc. We were in a pretty pickle here, and badly needed someone to take charge inside the house. I would have myself but I was loath to trespass on Monsieur Aldegonde's province. If there is any way in which I can help you have but to name it."

  "Indeed there is," replied Roger quickly. "I want you to ride into Rennes at once; but before you go give orders for a coach to follow you. When you reach Rennes go to Maitre Leger and ask him to recommend the best doctor in the city. Seek out the doctor and offer him any price you like to accompany you back here and remain as resident physician until Mademoiselle Athenais is well again. Then go to the Convent of the Sisters of Mercy and see the Superior. Say that you come on behalf of Monseigneur and ask her to furnish you with her two most competent nursing Sisters. Bring the doctor and the nuns back in the coach, and do your damnedest to have them here by nightfall."

  "It shall be done. Monsieur; or I will eat my own beard," declared Chenou, and he began to shout for his grooms and stableboys.

  During the remainder of the day Roger personally supervised the wants of Athenais. She addressed no word to him and he refrained from any approach to her. At ten o'clock that night Chenou returned from his forty-mile trip into Rennes and back, bringing a youngish doctor named Hollier and two Sisters of Mercy. Roger sent Mere Sufflot packing with a louis and installed Athenais's new attendants. Then he went to bed and slept like a log.

  Next day he had all the sick servants moved from their own stuffy quarters to the ballroom of the chateau, and, having turned it into a hospital ward, placed Dr. Hollier in charge. He then wrote to the Marquis, giving him a full account of the state of affairs at Becherel, and suggesting that he should remain there until Athenais was fully recovered.

  The days that followed left him anxious and now a little uncertain of himself. He did not feel justified in any longer going to Athenais's room, but waited impatiently each morning for Dr. HolUer's bulletin about her spots. Most days he rode an hour or two with Chenou, and spent the rest of the time with Madame Marie-Ange; reading the novels of Madame de Villedieu to her, these light romances having been her favourites in her youth.

  The motherly old soul's leg and hip were gradually mending and, as her pain lessened, she became more alert to
what was going on in the household. It was her idea that when Athenais was well enough to travel, instead of going to Paris for the winter, she should go to her aunt's chateau at St. Brieuc, and quietly recuperate there in the good sea air.

  Twelve days after his arrival at Becherel Roger received a reply to his letter to the Marquis. In effect it said little more than: "I approve the measures you have taken regarding my daughter, and you have my full authority to carry out any other measures you may think requisite to her well-being. However, now that she is in good hands there seems no reason why you should linger unduly at Becherel, so the sooner you return to Paris with the Domaine de St. Hilaire docu­ments, the better."

  There was no message for Athenais, no indication that the stony heart of the Marquis had been touched by his young daughter's affliction;

  he still appeared to be entirely wrapped up in his own concerns. In disgust Roger stuffed the missive into his pocket and forgot it.

  A week later he received another letter from M. de Rochambeau, this time by personal courier. It said:

  To my great annoyance I have returned to Paris to find you still absent. Why is this? Paintendre is a fool who understands nothing of my affairs. Get to horse at once, and rejoin me here at the earliest possible moment.

  Again there was no inquiry as to how Athenais was progressing, let alone as to the health of his servants. Yet Roger knew that if he wished to keep his job he must obey the summons without delay. He sat down and wrote a note to Athenais, which ran:

  Mademoiselle, I have received your father's command to return immediately to Paris. Having followed the progress of your illness through Dr. Hollier I am greatly rejoiced to know that you are near recovered. I should count it a great favour if you would permit me to take leave of you before my departure.

  Five minutes later he received a verbal reply by the footman who had taken up his note. The man bowed to him and said: "Monsieur, Mademoiselle desires you to wait upon her after your evening meal."

  The Marquis's courier had not arrived until after mid-day and, for the sake of reaching Pans a few hours earlier, Roger had no intention of forgoing the interview that Athenais had granted him. However, he arranged with Chenou to have a coach ready for him at dawn the following morning, and had the great iron chest containing the documents carried down to the front hall in readiness for loading. Early in the evening he dressed himself in his best suit, which he had brought with him, arranged his hair with care and put a beauty patch on his left cheek. When he looked at himself in the mirror he was satisfied that not even the Abbé de Perigord could have surpassed him in his new role of a fashionable exquisite.

  After he had supped he went upstairs with a beating heart. He felt reasonably confident that Athenais would not have consented to see him unless she intended to thank him for the part he had played in bringing order out of chaos at the chateau; but, whether her thanks would be purely formal, or couched in the warmer note of renewed friendship, yet remained to be seen.

  One of the Sisters of Mercy admitted him to the room. As he came round the corner of the screen he saw that Athenais was sitting up in bed with her hair properly dressed, and that the last traces of her sores had completely disappeared under a dusting of rouge and powder.

  For a moment she did not look at him, but addressed the nun: "Sister Angelique, I have business to discuss with my father's secretary. While we are talking you would, no doubt, like to give your mind to your devotions. Pray avail yourself of my oratory."

  Without a word the nun obediently crossed the room, and dis­appeared behind a curtain that concealed an alcove fitted up as a small private chapel. While she knelt there she was still, theoretically, in the room and chaperoning Athenais; but, for all practical purposes, Roger was now alone with his divinity.

  He thought that she had never looked more beautiful as she turned her big blue eyes on him, and said:

  "Monsieur; on learning this afternoon that orders had come for you to return to Paris, I took the opportunity to write to my father. Please convey my missive to him immediately on your arrival."

  With a bow Roger took the letter that she held out to him. He had counted more than he knew on being restored to her favour before he left Becherel; but now it seemed that she had delayed his departure only in order to write this letter, and he was bitterly disappointed.

  "It occurred to me," she went on, "that you have long outstayed the purpose of your original mission to Becherel, and I thought that my father should be informed of the reason for that. Dr. Hollier has told me of all that you have done to restore order and health among the servants here, and we all owe you our gratitude."

  He bowed again. "Mademoiselle, I could do no less; and as Monseigneur is angry with me for having delayed so long your letter will prove a boon in modifying his displeasure."

  "I trust so." She fiddled with the ribbons of her bed-jacket, and added a little uncertainly: "You wished to say something to me before your departure?"

  "Only, Mademoiselle, how happy I am that you are now recovered from your illness and need only rest to restore your full health again."

  "Have you no more to say than that?"

  "Now that I have seen you, I would add my thanks to God for having preserved your beauty."

  Again her words came a little uncertainly: "Under His mercy, Monsieur, I owe that to you. And, since you show no mind to broach a matter that concerns us both, 'tis for me to do so."

  His pulses began to race as she lowered her eyes and went on, almost in a whisper. "That night when you arrived here I did a terrible thing; and 'tis generous of you, now that I am well, to spare me your reproaches. By making you kiss me at the height of my fever 'tis a miracle that I did not give you the sickness."

  " 'Twas my fault," he said gently, almost overcome by her sudden display of feeling. "I should have waited a more fitting occasion to ask your forgiveness for what had passed before. You were half delirious and knew not what you did. I pray you think no more of it."

  "But I must. I knew then that you really loved me, and that I ill deserved it from having been so harsh and wicked towards you."

  "Please!" he begged, hardly daring to look at her. But she raised her eyes and her words came more firmly:

  "There is only one way in which I can make amends. To wipe away the memory of those other kisses you may, an it please you, kiss me again now."

  He was trembling now. Stepping forward he took one of her hands in his and placed his other arm about her shoulders. Stooping above her he took a long breath and, as she raised her face to his, he whispered: "Nay, I'll not do it to pleasure myself alone, but only if you wish it also."

  "Rojé I do!" she cried suddenly: and flinging her soft arms round his neck she drew his mouth down to hers.

  For a space they clung together, then she began to cry softly.

  "My loveliness," he murmured, drawing away a little. "Why do'st thou weep?"

  "Because—because I am so happy," she sobbed, "yet, at the same time, so sad."

  "What troubles thee, my sweet Princess?"

  Choking back her tears she smiled fondly up at him. " 'Tis that I would so terribly that I could be thy Princess. Yet, far as thou hast already travelled on the road to fortune, dear miller's youngest son, there can be no hope of that."

  "Thou, thou lovest me then?" he breathed.

  She nodded. "With all my heart. 'Twas naught but stupid pride that stayed me from confessing it before. For years I have built romance about thee, and thought of thee always as my perfect knight."

  Again they kissed, not once but a score of times; and for the next half hour murmured only sweet endearments to one another.

  At length Athenais placed her hands upon his shoulders and put him gently from her. " Tis time for thee to leave me," she said, with a sigh, "or Sister Angelique's curiosity will overcome her piety."

  "So soon," he protested. "Nay, she will continue with her devotions for a while yet, and there are still a thousand things that I would say
to thee."

  "And I to thee. But lest she comes upon us suddenly we must now be circumspect, and thou hadst best sit there in that chair, as though we were in truth discussing business."

  As she began to tidy herself and he took the chair, he said: "Tell me, beloved, what are your plans; and when can I hope to see you again?"

  " 'Twill be the new year now before I come to Paris," she replied. "In that letter to my father I have asked his consent to travel, when I am well enough, to my aunt's chateau at St. Brieuc. 'Twas Madame Marie-Ange's idea. She put it in one of the little notes she sends me each day. Though 'tis winter the sea air there will aid my convalescence and 'tis certain my father will agree."

  "And when you reach Paris, what then? Think you we will ever find an opportunity to be alone together?"

  "Oh, I trust so! Now that I am seventeen my father will, I doubt not, arrange some suitable marriage for me. But 'tis hardly likely that I shall be married before the summer; and in the meantime we shall be living under the same roof."

  Roger sighed. "The prospect of your marriage fills me with dismay. Fate has been cruel indeed to separate us by so many barriers."

  She shook her head and smiled sweetly. "Think not on that, I beg; for no profit can come to either of us from railing at a decree which was ordained by God. I am overjoyed that you should have won my father's confidence and prospered so; but your lack of lands and quarterings renders any question of marriage between us utterly impossible."

  Leaning forward and taking her hand again, Roger said: "Listen, dear love. 'Tis true that I have no lands, and no money other than that which your father gives me; but at least I am of gentle birth and have the right to bear arms. I would have told you of this before but I have had little opportunity and, until this evening, I feared that you might disbelieve me."

  While she listened, thrilled with excitement, he then disclosed to her that he was English and how it was that he had come both to leave his own country and, at their first meeting, conceal the truth about himself from her.