King of the Castle
Page 20
I sat up in bed, my eyes fixed on the door; then suddenly the handle turned.
“Genevieve!” I cried.
“You startled me.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been standing outside wondering whether you were asleep.”
She came and sat on the bed. Her blue silk ball dress was charming but her expression sullen.
“It’s a hateful ball,” she said.
“Why?”
“Aunt Claude!” she said.
“She’s not my aunt. She’s the wife of Cousin Philippe.”
“Speak English,” I said.
“I can’t when I’m angry. I have to think too much and I can’t be angry and think at the same time.”
“Then perhaps it would be an even better idea if you spoke English.”
“Oh miss, you sound just like old Esquilles. To think that woman is going to live here …”
“Why do you dislike her so?”
“I don’t dislike her. I hate her.”
“What has she done to you?”
“She’s come here to live. If she would stay in one place all the time I wouldn’t mind because then I shouldn’t have to go where she was.”
“Please, please, Genevieve, don’t plan to shut her in the oubliette.”
“Nounou would get her out so that wouldn’t be any good.”
“Why have you turned against her? She’s very pretty.”
“I don’t like pretty people. I like them plain like you, miss.”
“What a charming compliment.”
“They spoil things.”
“She’s hardly been here long enough to spoil anything.”
“She will, though. You’ll see. My mother didn’t like pretty women either. They spoilt it for her.”
“You can’t know anything about that.”
“I do, I tell you. She used to cry. And then they’d quarrel. They quarrelled quietly. I always think quiet quarrels are worse than noisy ones. Papa just says cruel things quietly and that makes them more cruel. He says them as though they amuse him . as though people amuse him because they’re so stupid. He thought she was stupid. It made her very unhappy. “
“Genevieve, I don’t think you should go on brooding on what happened so long ago, and you don’t really know very much about it.”
“I know that he killed her, don’t I?”
“You know no such thing.”
They say she killed herself. But she didn’t. She wouldn’t have left me all alone. “
I laid my hand over hers.
“Don’t think about it,” I begged.
“But you have to think about what’s happening in your own home! It’s because of what happened that Papa hasn’t got a wife. That’s why Philippe’s had to get married. If I had been a son it would have been different. Papa doesn’t like me because I’m not a son.”
“I’m sure you imagine your father doesn’t like you.”
“I don’t like you much when you pretend. You’re like all grownup people. When they don’t want to answer they pretend they don’t know what you’re talking about. I think my father killed my mother and she comes back from the grave to have her revenge on him.”
“What nonsense!”
“She walks about the chateau at night with the other ghosts from the oubliette. I’ve heard them, so it’s no use your saying they’re not there.”
“Next time you hear them, come and tell me.”
“Shall I, miss? I haven’t heard them for a long time. I’m not frightened, because my mother wouldn’t let them hurt me. Remember you told me that?”
“Let me know when you hear them next.”
“Do you think we could go and look for them, miss?”
“I don’t know. We would listen first.”
She leaned towards me and cried: “It’s a promise.”
At the chateau there was talk of little else but the ball for
the servants and the vine-workers, and preparations went on with more feverish activity than for those given by the Comte for his friends.
There was chattering in courtyards and corridors and the servants were obviously humoured during that day.
I wore my green dress for the occasion. I felt the need for confidence. I dressed my hair high on my head and the effect was pleasing.
I was thinking a great deal about Gabrielle Bastide and wondering whether she had come to any decision.
Boulanger, the sommelier, was the master of ceremonies, and he received everyone in the banqueting hall of the castle. There was to be a buffet supper during the evening and the newly married pair, together with the Comte and Genevieve, would appear when the ball was in progress. They would slip in, so I was told, unceremoniously and dance with a few of the company; and then Boulanger would as if by chance discover their presence and propose the health of the newly married couple which would be drunk by all in the best chateau wine.
The Bastide family had already arrived by the time I joined the ball.
Gabrielle was with them, looking very pretty, although melancholy, in a dress of pale blue which I guessed she had made herself, for I had heard that she was very good with her needle.
Madame Bastide had come on the arm of her son Armand; and she took an early opportunity of whispering to me that Jean Pierre did not yet know; they hoped to have discovered the name of the man and have arranged a marriage by the time he did.
Jean Pierre sought me out and we danced together to the tune of the Sautiere Charentaise which I had heard before in the Bastide house and to which the words Jean Pierre had once sung to me were set.
He sang them softly as we danced:
“Qui sont-ils les gens qui sont riches …”
“You see,” he said, ‘even here, in all this splendour, I can still sing those words. This is a great occasion for us humble folk. It is not often that we have an opportunity of dancing in the chateau ballroom. “
“Is it any better than dancing in your own home? I did enjoy Christmas Day so much and so did Genevieve. In fact I am sure she preferred your celebrations to those of the chateau.”
“She is a strange girl, that one.”
“I loved to see her so happy.”
He smiled at me warmly and I kept thinking of Gabrielle coming in with the crown on the cushion and later when he had kissed us as a privilege due to the King for the day.
“She has been happier since you came here, perhaps,” he added.
“She is not the only one.”
“You flatter me.”
“Truth is not flattery, Dallas.”
“In that case I am pleased to know I am so popular.”
He pressed my hand lightly.
“Inevitably so,” he assured me.
“Ah, look the great ones are with us. I do declare Monsieur Ie Comte has his eyes on us. Perhaps he is looking for you, as the one who not being as humble as his servants or those who work in his vineyards, as a most suitable partner.”
“I am sure he thinks no such thing.”
“You are hot in his defence.”
“I am quite cool and he has no need of my defence,” “We shall see. Shall we have a little bet you and I? I will say that the first one he dances with will be you.”
“I never gamble.”
The music had stopped.
“As if by chance,” murmured Jean Pierre, “Monsieur Boulanger has given the discreet sign. Stop dancing! The great are among us.” He led me to a chair and I sat down. Philippe and Claude had separated from the Comte, who was coming in my direction.
The music struck up again. I turned my head towards the musicians, expecting every moment to see him standing there, for I, like Jean Pierre, had thought he would choose to dance with me.
I was astonished to see him dance past with Gabrielle.
I turned to Jean Pierre with a laugh.
“I rather regret I do not gamble.”
Jean Pierre was looking after the Comte and his sister with a puzzled look.
“An
d I regret,” he said, turning to me, ‘that you will have to be content with the master of the vineyard instead of the master of the castle. “
“I am delighted to do so,” I replied lightly.
As we danced I saw Claude with Boulanger and Philippe with Madame Duval, who was the head of the female staff. I supposed the Comte had chosen Gabrielle as the member of the Bastide family, who were the head of the vineyards.
When the dance was over Boulanger made his speech, and the health of Philippe and Claude was drunk by everyone present. After that the musicians played what I learned was the Marche pour Noce and this was led by Philippe and Claude.
It was then that the Comte approached me.
In spite of my determination to remain aloof I felt my cheeks flush slightly as he took my hand lightly and asked for the pleasure of the dance.
I said: “I am not sure that I know the dance. This seems to be something indigenous to France.”
“No more than the noce itself, and you cannot pretend, Mademoiselle Lawson, that we are the only nation who marry.”
“I had no intention of doing so. But this dance is unknown to me.”
“Did you dance much in England?”
“Not often. I rarely had the opportunity.”
“A pity. I was never much of a dancer myself but I
“You see,” he said, ‘even here, in all this splendour, I can still sing those words. This is a great occasion for us humble folk. It is not often that we have an opportunity of dancing in the chateau ballroom. “
“Is it any better than dancing in your own home? I did enjoy Christmas Day so much and so did Genevieve. In fact I am sure she preferred your celebrations to those of the chateau.”
“She is a strange girl, that one.”
“I loved to see her so happy.”
He smiled at me warmly and I kept thinking of Gabrielle coming in with the crown on the cushion and later when he had kissed us as a privilege due to the King for the day.
“She has been happier since you came here, perhaps,” he added.
“She is not the only one.”
“You flatter me.”
“Truth is not flattery, Dallas.”
“In that case I am pleased to know I am so popular.”
He pressed my hand lightly.
“Inevitably so,” he assured me.
“Ah, look . the great ones are with us. I do declare Monsieur Ie Comte has his eyes on us. Perhaps he is looking for you, as the one who not being as humble as his servants or those who work in his vineyards, as a most suitable partner.”
“I am sure he thinks no such thing.”
“You are hot in his defence.”
“I am quite cool and he has no need of my defence.”
“We shall see. Shall we have a little bet you and I? I will say that the first one he dances with will be you.”
“I never gamble.”
The music had stopped.
“As if by chance,” murmured Jean Pierre, “Monsieur Boulanger has given the discreet sign. Stop dancing! The great are among us.” He led me to a chair and I sat down. Philippe and Claude had separated from the Comte, who was coming in my direction.
The music struck up again. I turned my head towards the musicians, expecting every moment to see him standing there, for I, like Jean Pierre, had thought he would choose to dance with me.
I was astonished to see him dance past with Gabrielle.
I turned to Jean Pierre with a laugh.
“I rather regret I do not gamble.”
Jean Pierre was looking after the Comte and his sister with a puzzled look.
“And I regret,” he said, turning to me, ‘that you will have to be content with the master of the vineyard instead of the master of the castle. “
“I am delighted to do so,” I replied lightly.
As we danced I saw Claude with Boulanger and Philippe with Madame Duval, who was the head of the female staff. I supposed the Comte had chosen Gabrielle as the member of the Bastide family, who were the head of the vineyards.
When the dance was over Boulanger made his speech, and the health of Philippe and Claude was drunk by everyone present. After that the musicians played what I learned was the Marche pour Noce and this was led by Philippe and Claude.
It was then that the Comte approached me.
In spite of my determination to remain aloof I felt my cheeks flush slightly as he took my hand lightly and asked for the pleasure of the dance.
I said: “I am not sure that I know the dance. This seems to be something indigenous to France.”
“No more than the noce itself, and you cannot pretend, Mademoiselle Lawson, that we are the only nation who marry.”
“I had no intention of doing so. But this dance is unknown to me.”
“Did you dance much in England?”
“Not often. I rarely had the opportunity.”
“A pity. I was never much of a dancer myself but I
suspect you would dance as well as you do everything else, if you had the will to. You should seize every opportunity . even if you are not eager to mingle with the company. You did not accept my invitation to the ball. I wondered why. “
“I thought I explained that I had not come prepared to attend grand functions.”
“But I had hoped that as I expressed my special desire that you would be there, you would have come.”
“I did not think that my absence would have been noticed.”
“It was … and regretted.”
“Then I am sorry.”
“You do not appear to be.”
“I meant that I am sorry to have caused regret not to have missed the ball.”
“That is good of you, Mademoiselle Lawson. It shows a pleasant concern for the feelings of others which is always so comforting.”
Genevieve danced past with Jean Pierre. She was laughing up at him; I saw that the Comte had noticed this.
“My daughter is like you, Mademoiselle Lawson; she prefers certain entertainments to others.”
“No doubt this seems a trifle gayer than the more grand occasion.”
“How can you know that when you weren’t there?”
“It was a suggestion not a statement of fact.”
“I might have known. You are also so meticulous. You must give me another lesson in restoration. I was fascinated by the last. You will find me visiting you in the gallery one morning.”
“That will be a pleasure.”
“Will it?”
I looked into those strange hooded eyes and said: “Yes, it will be.”
The dance was over and he could not dance with me again; that would be to invite comment. Not more than once with each member of the household; and after six dances he would be free to go, so Jean Pierre told me. It was the custom. He, Philippe, Claude and Genevieve would perform their duty and one by one slip away-not all together; that would appear too formal and informality was the order of the day; but the Comte would go first and the others choose their time.
It was as he said. I noticed the Comte slip away quietly. After that I had no great wish to stay.
I was dancing with Monsieur Boulanger when I saw Gabrielle leave the ballroom. She gave a quick look round, pretended to examine the tapestry on the wall and then another quick look and she was out of the door.
For one second I had glimpsed her desperate expression and I was afraid of what she might be going to do.
I had to make sure; so as soon as the music stopped and I could escape from my partner I took an opportunity of slipping out too.
I had no idea where she had gone. I wondered what a desperate girl would do. Throw herself down from the top of the castle? Drown herself in the old well in the courtyard?
As I stood outside the ballroom I realized the unlikelihood of either.
If Gabrielle was going to commit suicide why should she choose the castle, unless of course there was some reason . I knew of one which I would not accept. But while my mind rejected it my
footsteps by some instinct led me towards the library where I had had my interviews with the Comte.
I wanted very much to be able to laugh at the notion which had come into my head.
I reached the library. I could hear the sound of voices and I knew whose they were. Gabrielle’s breathless . rising to hysteria. The Comte’s low yet resonant.
I turned and went to my room. I had no desire to go back to the ballroom. No desire for anything but to be alone.
A few days later I went to call at Maison Bastide, where Madame Bastide received me with pleasure, and I could see that she was feeling much better than she had when I had last been in the house.
“The news is good. Gabrielle is going to be married.”
“Oh, I am so pleased.”
Madame Bastide smiled at me.
“I knew you would be,” she said.
“You have made our trouble yours.”
My relief was obvious. I was laughing at myself. (You fool, you suspicious fool, why do you always believe the worst of him! ) “Please tell me,” I begged.
“I am so happy about this and I can see you are.”
“Well,” said Madame Bastide, ‘in time people will know it was a hasty marriage . but these things happen. They have forestalled their marriage vows as so many young people do, but they will confess and be shriven. And they will not bring a bastard into the world. It is the children who suffer. “
“Yes, of course. And when will Gabrielle be married?”
“In three weeks. It is wonderful, for Jacques is now able to marry.
That was the trouble. He could not support a wife and a mother, and knowing this Gabrielle had not told him of her condition. But Monsieur Ie Comte will make everything right. “
“Monsieur Ie Comte!”
“Yes. He has given Jacques charge of the St. Vallient vineyard. For a long time Monsieur Durand has been too old. He is now to have his cottage on the estate and Jacques will take over St. Vallient. But for Monsieur Ie Comte, it would have been difficult for them to marry.”
“I see,” I said slowly.
Gabrielle was married, and although there was a good deal of gossip which I heard on my expeditions to the little town and in the chateau and vineyard district, these comments were always whispered with a shrug of the shoulders. Such affairs provided the excitement of a week or two and none could be sure when their own families would be plunged into a similar situation. Gabrielle would marry and if the baby arrived a little early, well, babies had a habit of doing that the whole world over.