PASSY 1652
The Comte de Sevigne was pleased with himself. The new country house was a great success and he had recently moved his wife and two daughters to the grand chateau on the side of the hill. His wife Sandrine adored the new place and was just as happy to be removed from the court now that Passy was becoming the place to be for the rich and powerful. It gave the entitled few something to do while biding their time in between trips to the opera in Paris and the court engagements at Versailles. The gardens were still being put in with strict adherence to the new trend for all things formal and linear. Rows and rows of hedges and perfectly squared off flower beds were all being planted in a hurry to beat the coming rainy season. The neatly landscaped paths in perfect geometric unison cut through the sloping park all the way from the house to the banks of the river. His wife worked very closely with the architect who was already becoming famous in his own right and it wouldn’t be long before the king would snatch him up to help with the already famous gardens of Versailles. She knew all about such things as her entire upbringing consisted of learning what is fashionable and what is vulgar. She was the perfect French wife and she had no qualms spending ridiculous amounts of his money to ensure that just the right piece of furniture found it’s way to the perfect corner of the orangerie even though the piece had to be brought from Italy at three times it’s worth in gold. He denied her nothing as he knew within the first year of their arranged marriage that she had not only been trained to be fashionable, but was well versed in the art of moving up in society. She had secured them a place in the court through a distant cousin and it was his wife who managed to purchase yet another title to secure not only themselves, but their daughters as well. He rode his horse dreamily through the forests on the way to his mistress’ house. It was his house in name but he had given it to her as a gift. She was everything a mistress should be. She was lovely with the most perfect set of white teeth which were the envy of every woman who met her and her creamy skin set off rumors of bathing in mother’s milk from the jealous French women she surrounded herself with. As far as he knew he was the only man she knew and this suited him just fine. She never demanded anything more than what he offered her and she had apparently overcome the shock of being locked in a cave for God knows how long. Her past would always remain a mystery and though she mastered the language in an impossibly short period of time and picked up the manners and customs of the noble society, he knew that he would never know how long she had been imprisoned in the hillside. He never allowed himself to think about it too much as it had the ability to make him insane for it picked away at his logical mind like an unsolvable puzzle. She claimed that she had no memory of anything until he rescued her. As for her identity he had to create one out of thin air and this had been surprisingly easy as he was the last of the Sevigne’s and no one would remember a lost third cousin who came to him in her time of need after suddenly becoming a widow and found herself penniless. Even his wife seemed content that he had chosen someone so discreet with no scandalous past to turn their lives into a nightmare. They never crossed paths as they eluded each other skillfully creating a sort of dance with the Comte in the center of all the activity. The name that was chosen for her was Celine D’Aumont as the D’Aumonts truly were his cousins but there were so few left and none of them moved in their circles having lost their fortune ages ago. Celine D’Aumont was a name that was respectable and with a long history in France which was very important these days. It didn’t matter that she had no money of her own because she was now the charge of her kind and older cousin Marcus. Her position was secured. The Comte smiled again as his fingers reached into his pocket to finger the necklace of emeralds he had recently purchased to appease his lovely Celine. Emeralds looked so perfect against there creamy fair skin and brilliant scarlet hair. She seemed to have a special affection for the free gems and he knew she would be delighted with this bauble. The air was cool and he could smell the unmistakable aroma of Spring approaching. The earth gave off a heady scent and there was something about the smell of dampness that reminded him warm weather was on the way. He was nearing the house now and couldn’t wait to give his present to Celine. He also couldn’t’ wait to see her lovely skin unadorned and glowing in the light of the fires from the candle s in her room; She was obsessed with candles and insisted on hundreds upon hundreds of them in her home at all times. There were moments when her house seemed more like a temple or a church than the home of a fashionable woman of Paris. As much as he had tried to get her to spend some time in the city at the opera or at one of the grand parties that were always being held she had refused The one time he had taken her to the city she seemed truly frightened for the first time since he had me her. Every noise and every sight seemed to fill her with a terror that he couldn’t understand. She much preferred the country and he resigned to leave her in peace. It was easier this way and there was never any awkwardness resulting from chance meetings and the malicious eyes and ears of high society. She was a mystery to his friends and family as well as to him. Ever since his father had died and left him completely independent and wealthy beyond his imagining his life has simply gotten better and better. He loved his wife and daughters but after the birth of their second child the Comtesse deflected all of his attentions and it was she who suggested that the time had arrived for him to take on a mistress for the burden had become too much for her. Secretly she wanted to maintain her small waist and girlish curves for as long as possible because underneath it all she was a simple and vain woman who thought only of how people and things could amuse her. As for his part he didn’t care that he had no son which was considered a disaster for a man of his position but he loved his little girls and one day one of them would marry someone to whom he could bestow the name and the title. It happened all the time. In fact half of the people he knew had purchased their names and their titles from the government. It didn’t matter who anyone really was it only mattered what they appeared to be and that is why it had been so easy to assimilate Celine into his life. No one really cared where she was from; they were more interested in her fantastic hair and amazing skin. She presented the perfect picture and was always charming and graceful and feminine.
He pulled his horse up to the gate where he was greeted by a footman who was expecting him even though he had not sent word ahead. He smiled at her cleverness once again as she must know him inside and out by now and probably knew before he did that he would be making this trip. He nodded his head to the boy and handed him the reigns and entered through the front door. The maid was there to take his coat and she ushered him into the salon and asked him what he would have to drink on such a chilly night.
“Port please.” He lowered himself onto one of the settees in the gorgeous room of soft satinwood. A roaring fire was crackling in the fireplace and he was glad to have finally escaped the excited noisiness of his family’s new home to the quiet intimate atmosphere of Celine’s house.
“Where is Miss D’Aumont?” He asked the large woman who handed him the drink.
“Miss have informed me to let you know she is out on an errand and will return momentarily.” The fat woman curtsied as she turned to leave the cozy room. A thousand suspicions rose up in his mind. She had always been there to greet him. This was the first time she was missing from the house and he suddenly felt terribly alone. Where could she possibly be? Did she have a lover that he knew nothing about? It seemed unlikely but his jealousy was rising bitterly in his throat. He would have been able to tell if she had taken a lover especially in the small world they lived in. An errand? She had never lifted a finger and an errand could only mean that it was a secret. His thoughts were interrupted by the welcome sound of the front door opening. He heard her throaty laugh which was always music to his ears. He wanted to spring up from the blue muslin chair and demand where she was but he restrained himself and waited for her to come to him. She walked into the room and smiled down at him. Tonight she was wearing a gown of green silk with bow
s and little birds all abounding. She was a vision. She leaned down to him to impart a kiss which he received coldly.
“What’s this?” Her warm liquid voice stroked his nerves. “No kiss in return?” She pouted perfectly. “Are you not happy to see me?” Hearing her French it was hard to believe that she had learned it so perfectly and so quickly. Once again the sense of mystery about Celine consumed his thoughts. To be completely honest he knew nothing about her at all.
“Where were you Celine? The maid says you have been on an errand. Why are you running your own errands? Do you know how that makes me look?” He used one of his wife’s favorite questions when she was embarrassed by his behavior. He sounded hurt though he did not mean to. Celine walked quietly behind him and began to slowly rub the tension from his shoulders.
“My love. How you worry so! The errand could only be made by me and in a moment you will see why.” Her hot hands left him and she walked out of the room abruptly, knocking one of the crystal figurines he had bought her onto the burgundy carpet. She left it where it fell and he was stunned into silence. When she returned the footman was following her and carrying something burdensome.
“I wanted to get you something for our anniversary. Something special.” She looked at him pleadingly trying to garnish the smallest of smiles. “Something with meaning.” She bade the servant follow her. “Now come look my darling and tell me that you love it.”
The Comte looked up to see what the man had brought into the salon and gasped with delight. There in front of him was a portrait done in oil paint with the most talented of brush strokes. It was a painting of Celine dressed as a Greek goddess standing in front of a fountain of water emerging from the earth. It was truly a work of art and Marcus couldn’t speak. The painting was framed in a heavy gold gilt frame that made the subject look even more regal.
“Say something darling!” Now it was she who sounded hurt. “Tell me you hate it or tell me to get rid of it but please say something!” She rushed to his side and he was touched deeply. It was an amazing work of art and though he could never display it at the home in Passy he was already thinking of the perfect place for it in the small house that belonged to Celine.
“I am sorry my dear.” He placed his arm around her shoulder and kissed her forehead as if she were a small child in need of comfort. “You see I imagined the most horrible things when I was told you were gone. I thought one of the handsome young men from Versailles had finally seduced you. I was such a fool but my jealousy was very real. You belong to me Celine and with this gift I know now that you are really mine.” He embraced her quickly and covered her lily white throat with kisses.
“Of course I belong to you darling. We belong to each other. It was Fate that brought us together two years ago. It was destiny for us to become lovers and I wanted to get you something special to commemorate the anniversary of when you saved me” She returned his kisses with fervor.
“I too brought you a little something.” He pulled out the necklace and held it up for her to see.
“Oh Marcus! It’s brilliant! It matches my dress perfectly see?” She giggled excitedly and held the necklace up to her throat. “Oh do put in on me! I’m too excited!” She turned around so he could fasten the jewels around her throat. She wasn’t wearing a necklace at all is if somehow she were expecting it. She was always anticipating things in the most unreal manner as if she could see what was coming around the corner before anyone else. There were times when he thought she must be a witch or a sorceress but these thoughts always vanished whenever he looked at her. How could someone so gentle and kind be a witch? Even the servants worshipped her. She spun around and kissed him again.
“I love my gift and I love you!” She whispered into his ear.
“I love my gift as well and you know I will love you forever.” He whispered back while gently kissing her ear lobe.
“Forever?” She enquired trembling under his caress.
“Forever.” He barely managed to reply before his passion took over. He gathered her up in his arms and carried her upstairs to her chamber. They could dine later and he could hear the story of the fabulous painting. For now he just needed her. He needed to peel off the rich layers of clothing that covered her perfect skin. He needed to lose himself in her again and again until he was too tired to move. He needed to stop thinking and give himself over to the flesh and surrender to her power.
He was sleeping when he heard a cry. One of the maids from downstairs. The sound of terror increased and he realized there were several people in the house and most of them were crying. He reached for his clothes and saw that Celine was already gone from the bed. He didn’t even stir when she left. He scrambled around for his coat and shoes and threw a powdered wig onto his head. He had to find out what the commotion was. He ran down the stairs two at a time and saw that it was the middle of the night. He walked into the salon to see Celine and her maid along with the young footman and the manager of his household in Passy.
“Georges! What are you doing here?” He didn’t want to hear the answer as a sense of dread began to creep up his spine. He could see horror in Georges’ eyes and he felt as if he were going to be sick.
“Sir. I don’t know how to tell you this.” The bent man was obviously crying. “It’s the Comtesse and the young ladies…they’re…..they’re dead sir!” The old man collapsed to his knees and began a stream of incoherent prayers. Marcus could not move. He willed his limbs to move closer to Georges but they would not obey him. He could only stare forward at the now forgotten portrait of his seductress. When his lips finally formed words they came out in a dry crackle.
“How? When?” He had just left them hours ago. This was unfeasible. George managed to pull himself together enough to say.
“It was poison mushrooms that someone had mixed with the others. It must have been an accident but they had the mushrooms in their meal tonight….” George began to cry. “Oh Sir…they’re gone!” He collapsed once more into sobs and gestures of prayer. Marcus looked at his trusted man and saw the obvious signs of grief. Georges was liked very much by his wife and his girls. They adored his gruff and friendly demeanor and sometime teasingly called him The Bear. He turned his gazed toward Celine who was caught unawares. His heart froze as he realized there was no emotion at all. It was a numb look, almost of boredom. As soon as she sensed him looking at her she broke into tears. Maybe it was just the shock but he couldn’t stop the idea that arose in his mind. He realized for the first time that he had no idea who this woman was and what she was capable of. He shook in despair and in fear. He was being punished. God had set him up to make him happy only to take it all away. He knew it was too good to last but never had he expected such a horrible thing. He couldn’t look at Celine right now. He fell onto the floor with Georges and covered his face. God was making him pay for his lust and his greed. He released a curse from the hill like the superstitious men had believed and now the curse was set free to walk among them and wreak it’s chaos on all their lives. As much as he tried to push the thought from his mind he could not help himself but think that somehow Celine was behind all this. With his family gone Celine could take on the role of Comtesse de Sevigne and infect the court with her magic and her charm. What had he done? He heard Celine whisper to him and felt the silk of her dress brush against his face.
“Don’t worry darling. I’m here.” The words left him frozen in fear as he gave way to the inevitable grief that came rushing from his broken heart.
ELLEN
Virginie carried the breakfast tray up the long pink marbled stairway. She turned left at the first landing which opened up into a long dark hallway with many doors of a dark an richly polished wood. At the third door on the left hand side she paused long enough to knock gently three times. When she knocked again and still there was no response she gingerly pried open the old brass handle and let herself in. It was a sumptuous room full of antiques and lovely watercolors on the walls. In the middle of the room was a superlati
ve canopied bed with long swaths of dazzling gold and pink gauze material that moved with the air diaphanous and light. All the furniture in the room was painted gold and most of it looked like it was from the eighteenth century. There were no signs of any modern electronic devices anywhere in this lovely chamber. In the middle of the bed lay a woman with her hair all disheveled and she was drowning in the sea of blankets and pillows with only her tiny head peaking out. She was still asleep. Virginie placed the tray on a low table near the bed and walked over to the floor to ceiling windows which were covered by a heavy blue velvet drape. She slowly opened the drapes to reveal the morning sunlight peaking in from the gardens. She sighed at the sight. What she wouldn’t do to have a room like this one. It was a time capsule to another time in Paris when there were still things like grandeur and beauty to be found in every home and in every salon. She had read stories about these times since she was born and raised in the city and romanticized heavily through her younger years with all of the rich history unearthed in every stone and every building of Paris. The first time she saw this home she was paralyzed by it’s beauty. From the sweeping staircase that drew her into it’s cavernous interior to the grand orangerie with a wall made entirely of doors and windows of hand blown glass leading out onto a garden that must have been designed by one of the greats like Le Notre or some such artist who drew their designs in the soil of the wealthiest homes. Not to mention all the antiques. Marcus must have bought the house with all of it’s original furniture as every room was filled with one of a kind furniture from all over the world and most of it over two hundred years old. Nothing was out of place. Whoever had spent years filling this house with beautiful things must have been someone of the most exquisite taste. The Louvre would have a field day with some of this stuff. She pulled herself from her daydream and looked back at the sleeping woman and gently tried to rouse her.
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