It would be bad luck if one struck St. Vallient just as Jacques has taken over. “
“It was good of the Comte to offer Jacques St. Vallient at this time,” I said.
“It was just at the right moment.”
“Sometimes the good God gives us evidence of his loving care.” ^ I walked thoughtfully back to the chateau. Of course, I assured myself, Gabrielle had spoken to the Comte of her predicament, and because she was pregnant by Jacques, who was unable to support both a wife and his mother, the Comte had given Jacques St. Vallient. The Durands were too old to manage it now in any case. Naturally that was what had happened.
I was changing. I was becoming adept at believing what I wanted to.
Nounou was pleased when I called in at her private room which I did fairly frequently; she would always have the coffee waiting for me and we would sit and talk together-almost always of Genevieve, and Francoise.
At this time when the whole district was worrying about black measles, Nounou’s one concern was the fretfulness of Genevieve; her room seemed to be the one place where the vines were not discussed.
“I’m afraid she does not like Monsieur Philippe’s wife,” said Nounou, peering at me anxiously from under her heavy brows.
“She never liked a woman in the house since …”
I would not meet her eye; I did not want Nounou to tell me what I already knew about the Comte and Claude.
I said briskly: “It is a long time since her mother died. She must grow away from it.”
“If she had had a brother it would have been different. But now the Comte has brought Monsieur Philippe here and has married him to that woman…” I knew she had seen me chatting with the Comte in the gardens and was warning me.
“I dare say Philippe was eager to marry,” I said.
“Otherwise why should he? You talk as though …”
“I talk of what I know. The Comte will never marry. He dislikes women.”
“I have heard rumours that he is rather fond of them.”
“Fond! Oh, no, miss.” She spoke bitterly.
“He was never fond of anyone. A man can amuse himself with what he despises, and if he has a certain nature the more contemptuous he is, the more amusement he gets, if you follow me. Oh, well, it’s no concern of ours, you’re thinking, and you’re right. But I expect you’ll soon be be leaving us and forgetting all about us.”
“I haven’t looked so far ahead as that.”
“I thought you hadn’t.” She smiled dreamily.
“The chateau is a little kingdom of its own. I can’t imagine living anywhere else … yet I only came here when Francoise did.”
“It must be very different from Carrefour.”
“Everything’s different here.”
Remembering the gloomy mansion which had been Francoise’s home I said:
“Francoise must have been very happy when she first came.”
“Francoise wasn’t ever happy here. He didn’t care for her, you see. ” She looked at me earnestly.
“It’s not in him to care for anyone … only to use people. He uses everyone his workers, who produce the wine … and us here in the chateau.”
I said indignantly: “But isn’t it always so? One can’t expect one man to work a vineyard himself. Everyone has servants.”
“You did not understand me, miss. How could you? I say he did not love Francoise. It was an arranged marriage. Well, so are most in their station, but good comes from these marriages. Some are the better for being arranged, but not this one. Francoise was there because his family thought her a suitable wife; she was there to provide the family. As long as she did that he cared nothing for her. But she … she was young and sensitive … she did not understand. So she died. The Comte is a strange man, miss. Do not mistake that.”
“He is … unusual.”
She looked at me sadly and she said: “I wish I could show you how she was before… and after. I wish you could have known her.”
“I wish it too.”
“There are the little books she used to write in.”
“Yes, they give me an idea of what she was like.”
“She was always writing in them and when she was unhappy they were a great pleasure to her. Sometimes she would read them aloud to me.
“Do you remember this, Nounou?” she would say; and we’d laugh together. At Carrefour she was an innocent young girl. But when she married the Comte, she had to learn so much and learn quickly. How to be the mistress of a chateau . but that was not all. “
“How did she feel when she first came here?” My eyes strayed to the cupboard in which Nounou kept her treasures. There was the box containing the pieces of embroidery which Francoise had given her for
her birthdays and there were those revealing notebooks which contained the story of Francoise’s life. I wanted to read about the Comte’s wooing; I wanted to know Francoise, not as a young girl living her secluded life in Carrefour with her strict father and her doting Nounou, but as the wife of the man who had begun to dominate my life.
“When she was happy she did not write in her little books,” said Nounou.
“And when she first came here there were so many excitements so much to do. Even I saw little of her.”
“So she was happy at first.”
“She was a child. She believed in life … in people. She had been told she was fortunate, and she believed it. She was told that she would be happy … and she believed that too.”
“And when did she start to be unhappy?”
Nounou spread her hands and looked down at them as though she expected to find the answer there.
“She soon began to understand life was not as she had imagined it would be. And then she was going to have Genevieve and she had something to dream of. That was a disappointment, for everyone hoped for a son.”
“Did she confide in you, Nounou?”
“Before her marriage she would tell me everything.”
“And not afterwards?”
Nounou shook her head.
“It was only when I read …” she nodded to the cupboard, ‘that I understood. She was not such a child. She understood much. and she suffered. “
“Do you mean he was unkind to her?”
Nounou’s mouth hardened.
“She needed to be loved,” she said.
“And she loved him?”
“She was terrified of him.”
I was startled by her vehemence.
“Why?” I asked. Her mouth trembled and she turned away. I saw from her expression that she was looking into the past. Then suddenly her mood changed and she said slowly: “She was fascinated by him … at first.
It’s a way he has with some women. “
She seemed to come to a decision, for she stood up suddenly and went to the cupboard and taking the key which was always kept dangling at her waist she opened it.
I saw the notebooks all neatly stacked together. She selected one.
“Read about it,” she said.
“Take it away and read about it. But don’t let anyone else see it… and bring it back safely to me.”
I knew I should refuse; I felt I was prying not only into her private life but into his. But I couldn’t; I had to know.
Nounou was worried on my account. She believed that the Comte was to some extent interested in me. She was telling me in this oblique way that the man who had brought his mistress into the house and married her to his cousin was also a murderer. She was telling me that if I allowed myself to become involved with such a man I too could be in danger. In what way, she could not say. But she was warning me all the same.
I took the book back to my room. I could scarcely wait to read it; and as I read it I was disappointed. I had expected dramatic revelations.
There were the entries not unlike those I had read before. She had her own little plot in the garden where she grew her own flowers. It was such a pleasure to grow flowers.
“I want Genevieve to love
them as I do.”
“My first roses. I cut them and kept them in a vase in my bedroom. Nounou says flowers should not be kept in your bedroom at night because they take all the air which you need. I told her it was nonsense but to please her I let her take them out.” Reading through those pages I
searched in vain for his name. It was not until almost at the end of the book that he was mentioned.
“Lothair returned from Paris today. Sometimes I think he despises me.
I know I am not clever like the people he meets in Paris. I must try really harder to learn something about the things he is interested in.
Politics and history, literature and pictures. I wish I did not find them so dull. “
“We all went riding today Lothair, Genevieve and myself. He was watching Genevieve. I was terrified that she would take a toss. She was so nervous.”
“Lothair has gone away. I am not sure where but I expect to Paris. He did not tell me.”
“Genevieve and I had the young children at the chateau today. We are teaching them their catechism. I want Genevieve to understand what her duty is as a daughter of the chateau. We talked about it afterwards and it was so peaceful. I love the evenings when they begin to darken and Nounou comes to draw the curtains and light the lamps. I reminded her how I had always liked that part of the day at Carrefour when she would come and close the shutters … just before it was dark, so that we never really saw the darkness. I told her this. And she said, ” You are full of fancies, cabbage. ” She has not called me ” cabbage” since before my marriage.”
“I went to Carrefour today. Papa was pleased to see me. He says that Lothair should build a church for the poor and I must persuade him to do this.”
“I spoke to Lothair about the church. He asked me why they wanted another church when they had one in the town. I told him that Papa thought that if they had a church close to the vineyard they could go in and worship at any hour of the day. It was for the good of their souls. Lothair said they had to concern themselves during working hours with the good of the grape. I don’t know what papa will say when I see him again. He will dislike Lothair more than ever.”
“Papa says Lothair should dismiss Jean Lapin because he is an atheist. He says that by continuing to employ him Lothair is condoning his sin and Lapin should be sent away and his family with him. When I told Lothair he laughed and said he would decide who should work for him and Lapin’s opinions were no concern of his, still less of my father’s. Sometimes I think Lothair dislikes Papa so much that he wishes he had never married me. And I know Papa wishes I had never married Lothair.”
“I went to Carrefour today. Papa took me to his bedroom and made me kneel and pray with him. I dream about Papa’s bedroom. It is like a prison. It is so cold kneeling on the stone flags that I feel cramped long afterwards. How can he sleep on such a hard pallet made of nothing but straw? The crucifix on the wall is the only brightness there; there is nothing else but the pallet and priedieu in the room.
Papa talked after we had prayed. I felt wicked . sinful. “
“Lothair came back today, and I am afraid. I felt I should scream if he came near me. He said: ” What is the matter with you? ” And I could not tell him how frightened I was of him. He went out of the room. I believe he was very angry. I think Lothair is beginning to hate me. I am so different from the women he likes … the women I believe he is with in Paris. I picture them in diaphanous gowns, laughing and drinking wine … abandoned women … gay and amorous. It is horrible.”
“I was frightened last night. I thought he was coming to my room. I heard his footsteps outside. He stopped at the door and waited. I thought I should scream aloud in terror … but then he went away.”
I had come to the last entry in the book.
What did it mean? Why had Francoise been so frightened of her husband?
And why had Nounou shown me that book? If she wanted me to know the story of Francoise’s life why did she not give them all to me? I knew there were others there. Could it be that Nounou, through those books which revealed the secrets of Francoise’s life, knew the secret of her death? And was it for this reason that she was warning me to leave the chateau?
I took the book back to Nounou the next day.
“Why did you give me this one to read?” I asked.
“You said you wanted to know her.”
“I feel I know her less than ever. Have you other books? Did she go on writing right until the time of her death?”
“She did not write so much after she wrote that one. I used to say to her: ” Francoise cherie, why don’t you write in your little notebooks? ” And she would say: ” There is nothing to write now, Nounou. ” And when I said ” Nonsense! ” she scolded me, and said I wanted to pry. It was the first time she’d said that. I knew she was afraid to write down what she felt.”
“But why was she afraid?”
“Don’t we all have thoughts which we would not wish to be known?”
“You mean she did not want her husband to know that she was afraid of him?” She was silent and I went on:
“Why was she afraid of him? You know, Nounou?”
She pursed her lips tightly together as though nothing on earth would make her speak.
But I knew that there was some dark secret; and I believed that had she not thought that I was of some use to Genevieve she would have told me to leave the chateau because she feared for me. But I knew that she would sacrifice me willingly for the sake of Genevieve.
She knew something about the Comte which she was trying to tell me.
Did she know that he had murdered his wife? “
The desire to know was becoming an obsession. But it was more than a desire to know; it was a desperate need to prove him innocent. We were riding when Genevieve, speaking in her rather slow English, told me that she had heard from Esquilles.
“Such an important person she seems to have become, miss. I will show you her letter.”
“I am so pleased that she is happily settled.”
“Yes, she is companion to Madame de la Condere and Madame de la Condere is very appreciative. They live in a fine mansion, not as ancient as ours but much more comme il faut. Madame de la Condere gives card parties and old Esquilles often joins them to make up the number. It gives her an opportunity of mixing in the society to which by rights she should belong.”
“Well, all’s well that ends well.”
“And, miss, you will be glad to hear that Madame de la Condere has a nephew who is a very charming man and he is always very agreeable to Esquilles. I must show you her letter. She is so coy when she writes of him. I do believe she has hopes of becoming Madame Nephew before long.”
“Well, I’m very pleased. I have thought about her now and then. She was so suddenly dismissed, and it was all due to your naughtiness.”
“She mentions Papa. She says how grateful she is to him for finding her such a congenial situation.”
“He … found it?”
“Of course. He arranged for her to go to Madame de la Condere. He wouldn’t just have turned her out. Or would he?”
“No,” I said firmly.
“He wouldn’t turn her out.”
That was a very happy morning.
The atmosphere lightened considerably during the next weeks. The black measles had been defeated and there was rejoicing throughout the vineyards and the towns which depended on their prosperity.
Invitations came to the chateau for the family to a wedding of a distant connection. The Comte said he was too bruised to go he continued to walk with a stick and that Philippe and his wife must represent their branch of the family.
I knew that Claude was resentful and hated the idea of going and leaving the Comte at the chateau. I was in one of the small walled gardens when she walked past with the Comte. We did not see each other but I heard their voices hers quite distinctly for it was high-pitched and very audible when she was angry.
“They’ll expect yowl”
“They’ll understand. You and Philippe will explain about my accident.”
“Accident! A few bruises!” He said something which I did not hear and she went on: “Lothair … please ” You don’t listen to me now. You seem as if . “
His voice was low, almost soothing, and by the time he had finished speaking they were out of earshot. There was no doubt of the relationship which existed between them, I thought sadly.
But to Paris went Claude and Philippe, and I thrust aside my doubts and fears and prepared to enjoy Claude’s absence.
The days were long and full of sunshine. The vines were in bloom. Each day I rose with a feeling of anticipation. I had never been so happy in my life; yet I knew that my happiness was about as dependable as an April day. I could make some alarming discovery; I could be sent away.
In a moment the skies could darken and the sun be completely blotted out. All the more reason to bask in it while it was there.
As soon as Philippe and Claude had left, the Comte’s visits to the gallery had become more frequent. Sometimes I fancied he was escaping from something, searching and longing to discover. There were times when I caught a glimpse of a different man behind his teasing smiles.
I even had the idea that he enjoyed our interviews as much as I did.
When he left me I would come to my senses and laugh at myself, asking:
How far are you prepared to delude yourself?
There was a simple explanation of what was happening:
There was no one at the chateau to amuse him; therefore he found me and my earnestness for my work diverting. I must remember that.
But he was interested in painting, and knowledgeable too. I recalled that pathetic entry in Francoise’s diary. She must try to learn something of the things which interested him. Poor frightened little Francoise! Why had she been afraid?
There were times when his face would darken with a cynicism which I imagined could be alarming to a meek and simple woman. There might even be a touch of sadism, as though he delighted in mockery and the discomfort it brought to others. But to me those expressions of his were like a film which something in his life had laid over his true nature just as lack of care will spoil a picture.
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