The wanton princess rb-8

by Dennis Wheatley

  By then Lcclerc had already been infected by the pes­tilence. Although desperately ill he continued to conduct the defence in person, but the fever proved too much for him and he had had to take to his bed. Regardless of the danger of catching the fell disease, Pauline had nursed him devotedly but in vain. On November 8th, weakened by his exertions, he died.

  Her grief for 'her little Leclerc', as she always called him, had been terrible to witness. Adhering to the cold Corsican custom, she had cut off her beautiful golden hair and laid it at her husband's feet in his coffin. She had then draped her­self in funeral black and refused all consolation.

  When Roger enquired how she had supported the voyage, the Captain replied, 'I have hardly seen her. Except for rare occasions she has kept to her cabin. Her maid, Mademoiselle Aimee, has taken her such little food as she could be per­suaded to eat, and reports that for whole days she has sat as though in a stupor. Her health, too, has never been good and the summer heats in San Domingo thinned her blood and sallowed her wonderful complexion. No doubt these weeks at sea will have restored her beauty; but, seeing the mental state she is in, it has been a relief to me that as her host while aboard my ship I have not had to attempt to entertain her. And I do not envy you, mon Colonel, in having to be her companion in a coach for a week while escorting her back to Paris.'

  Quietly and efficiently Roger then made his wishes known. Leclerc's coffin was to be taken ashore without his widow's knowledge, so that she should be spared the sight of it, and sent independently to Paris in the splendid catafalque, drawn by six white horses with black trappings, that he had had prepared while waiting for her in Bordeaux. Her child, whom she had sent for only twice on the voyage, and his nurse, were also to be taken ashore in advance, and would travel in a separate coach. He would escort Madame Leclerc that even­ing to the hostelry where he had engaged lodgings for her.

  These arrangements were duly carried out. At five o'clock he went with the Captain to the small state-room that Pauline occupied in the day-time. Gravely he conveyed to her the compliments of the First Consul and his deep sympathy, then said that he had been charged with the honour of escorting her wherever she wished to go.

  She showed no sign of recognizing him and acknowledged what he had said only with an inclination of her head, which was so heavily draped in black veils that he could hardly discern her features. After murmuring a few words of thanks to the Captain she took Roger's proffered arm and allowed him to lead her to the coach that stood waiting on the dock. In complete silence they covered the half-mile journey to the inn. There, Roger escorted her and her maid up to their rooms, then left them.

  Downstairs he ordered a bottle of Chateau Filhot and, while drinking it, considered the situation. Pauline was clearly in a far worse state than he had expected. Mercurial by temperament, she could be the gayest of the gay; but, as she was now, a prey to heartbreaking grief, it would prove difficult to rouse her from it. However, she was barely twenty-two and had a nature that demanded love and laughter; so it could be only a question of time before she emerged from her black depression. How long that would be was the impon­derable that he had to endeavour to assess.

  Her dead-black garments had not concealed her superb figure and her sombre veils had not so entirely hidden her lovely face that he could not recall it in all its beauty. In the past she had always accorded him something a little more than just friendly interest, regarding him with the eyes of an experienced woman who was weighing up what sort of lover he might make. Should he now dare to count on that to re-arouse her passions? If he did, and failed, she would report his unseemly conduct to her brother, and that could be the end of any prospect of his continuing in the great man's service. That was the devil of a risk to take. But it was now or never; and Roger knew that if he did not take it, he would regret to the end of his life having forgone this chance to make the most beautiful woman in France his mis­tress.

  He sent for the chef and ordered supper. Meat tended to make people feel heavy, whereas shell fish were light and their properties stimulated desire; so he ordered lobsters lightly simmered in fresh butter and then flamb6 in cognac, sweetbreads with mushrooms and, as a final course, white truffles cooked in champagne; another natural aphrodisiac. Then he talked with the sommelier and they decided on a glass of pinaud new-made from the last vintage and only procurable in the Bordeaux district, a bottle of Chateau Cheval Blanc, as the nearest approach to Burgundy which, for this occasion, Roger would have preferred, then a magnum of champagne that had lain in bin for twenty years. For two covers was Roger's injunction; and to be served at eight o'clock.

  Newly shaved, powdered and immaculate he entered Pauline's sitting room at that hour. The waiter had already laid the places at the table. She was still wearing a light veil. Through it, mistily, with large sad eyes she looked up at him and said:

  'Monsieur le Colonel, you must excuse me, but I prefer to eat alone.'

  Roger bowed. 'Madame, that I appreciate. But I am under orders from that great man who has remade France anew—your brother. He charged me not only to act as your escort but to do my poor best to persuade you that, despite your tragic loss, life can still hold much happiness for you. I dare not disobey his commands, therefore I pray you at least to permit me to sup with you.'

  'As you will, Monsieur,' she replied dully. ‘I have both affection and a great respect for my brother, and have never questioned his judgment. But you must forgive me if I am in no mood to converse.'

  Handing her a glass of the aperitif, he said. 'If you have not drunk this before, you will find it quite an experience. It is a kind of wine, but does not travel; so is obtainable only in these parts.'

  She drank it down without comment, then they took their places at the table. Roger did the talking and he was extremely able at it. To begin with he spoke gravely of serious things, that he knew perfectly well would not interest her, then went on to talk about the change in Paris that had taken place during the past year: the fetes, the receptions, the foreign nobility and the new fashions in women's clothes. At that a faint flicker of interest showed in her lovely eyes and, breaking her long silence, she began to ask him questions. By the time they got to the truffles served covered with a napkin, she was smiling. Then as the champagne was produced her depression descended on her again, and she said:

  'I have had enough wine, and you must excuse me if I now go to bed.'

  'No, Madame,' replied Roger firmly. 'Not yet, I pray you. Join me in just one glass while I talk to you about a matter of real importance.'

  She shrugged, 'Very well then; but I cannot think what it will be.'

  Roger sat back and said with the greatest gravity, 'Madame; your august brother, your family and all your friends are greatly concerned for you. It is only natural that a feeling of loss and desolation should now hang like a dark cloud over your mind, but it will not continue there indefi­nitely. You are still so young and time is the healer of every sorrow. Sooner or later you will emerge from your widow's weeds to become again your old gay self.'

  She shook her head and tears welled up into her big eyes, 'You may be right, Monsieur: but I loved Leclerc dearly and not for a long time yet will I be consoled for his loss.'

  Roger made her a little bow, 'Understandably, Madame,' you think that now. But I cannot believe that you wish to continue in this state of despair. Your own well-being and the consideration you owe your friends both demand that you should take any step that will shorten your period of bereave­ment and enable you to enter fully into the joy of life again.'

  'What step could I take?' she asked sadly.

  'There is one, the potency of which has been proved many times in cases similar to your own.' Roger paused a moment, then added. 'But it would mean resorting to magic'

  Her eyes widened. As a descendant of Corsican peasant’ she had an inbred belief in every sort of superstition and in the powers of witchcraft. A little fearfully she said, 'I would give much to regain my former happy state; but I'
ll have no dealings with the Devil.'

  'The Devil plays no part in this,' Roger assured her ear­nestly. 'It is of White Magic that I speak: the performance of a simple ceremony in which no sacrifice is made. It is a remedy of great antiquity based on the laws of nature and handed down through countless generations. You have only to imbibe a potion in certain given conditions and when you wake you will think on your tragedy as no more than an event that happened many years ago.'

  She leaned forward a little, 'Where can I procure this wondrous draught that will make me forget poor Leclcrc and become my happy self again?'

  Roger smiled at her, 'You will recall, Madame, my telling you that your brother charged me to do everything that lay in my power to dissipate your sorrow. So I have this potent medicine with me. Do you consent to participate in this ceremony with me you shall receive it.'

  'What are the conditions of which you spoke?' she asked.

  'Have you a white garment?' he enquired. 'If not we must procure one for you.'

  'My night robes are white.'

  'That will serve, but it must be a clean one; and you must wear naught else, even jewellery, so that you must take off your rings and remove those earrings from your ears. We shall need the light of three candles, no more and no fewer. And a bright fire should be burning in your room. A little before midnight I will come to you and, on the hour, administer the potion.'

  She gave him an uneasy look. 'Monsieur, I gather that it is to my bedroom that you propose to come. My maid will be sleeping in the adjacent room. Our voices might rouse her, and thinking someone had broken in upon me she would alarm the house. Were you found with me that could pro­voke a most terrible scandal.'

  'Then you must speak to her beforehand and tell her that you are expecting someone. You could say that a courier with a letter from the First Consul is expected to reach Bordeaux tonight, and you have given me instructions that at whatever hour he may arrive I am to bring the letter straight up to you.'

  'That would suffice,' Pauline agreed thoughtfully. Then she looked down at her plate and went on in a low voice. But, Monsieur; although I assume your intentions to be honourable, is it essential to the magic that I should appear before you near-naked in a night shift? I'd find that most embarrassing.'

  Roger smiled across at her. 'Madame, I appreciate the delicacy of your feelings and am happy to reassure you on that point. You can remain in bed and receive the potion there. Should you feel that modesty demands it, draw the sheets up to your chin. The position you are in will make no difference to the efficacy of what I shall give you.'

  For a long moment Pauline hesitated, then she said, 'I would give much to be free of my memories of San Domingo. Will you swear on your heart that this potion of which you speak owes nothing to the Devil?'

  Roger crossed his heart. 'Madame. I swear it.'

  'Will I find taking it very unpleasant?'

  'On the contrary, you will at first find it so stimulating that you may beg of me a second draught; but later you will feel deliciously relaxed and fall into a sound sleep.'

  'So be it then,' she nodded, and beneath the light black veil she was wearing the candle light caught the gold of the short crisp curls with which her head was covered. Rising from the table she went on, 'I'll speak to my maid as we agreed, see to it that there is a good fire burning and no more than three candles alight. Then I'll expect you a little before midnight and take this magic potion which you promise will work such wonders. Meantime I thank you, Monsieur le Colonel, for this excellent supper and your kindness to me. Talking with you while we ate has made me feel almost human again.'

  Well satisfied, Roger kissed the hand, still showing scars from the sores that had marred it in San Domingo, that she held out to him and bowed her out through the door that led to her bedroom.

  Returning to his own room he spent the best part of two hours there. At first he tried to concentrate on a book, but after he had read several pages twice over, found that he had absorbed hardly any of their contents. His brain refused to function except in forming mental images of the beautiful Pauline in scores of different circumstances and positions.

  At last the time of waiting was over. By then the inn had fallen completely silent. Quietly lie made his way along to Pauline's sitting room. His heart was beating furiously and he knew that he was taking a wild gamble with his future. Another few moments would decide. Either he would be holding her divine form in his arms and she would be return­ing his kisses, or she would rouse the house, bring people running and declare he had assaulted her. Then he would have to run for it himself and somehow escape to England; for it was certain that when Napoleon was told of this attempt to ravish his favourite sister, he would have every police agent in France hunting for le Colonel Breuc to throw him into prison.

  Crossing the sitting room he knocked gently at the bedroom door. For a moment there was silence, then, in a low voice, Pauline called, "Entrez, Monsieur.'

  In the bedroom a bright fire was burning, its flames flickering on the ceiling. Three lighted candles were set on the dressing table. Pauline was sitting up in bed leaning against her pillows, no longer enveloped in her black robes and the veil that had half hidden her features. Her face was thinner than when he had last seen it fully and the light of the candles caught the gold in the short, crisp, boyish curls that now covered her head. At the sight of her loveliness he drew in a sharp breath.

  As he advanced to her bedside her eyes held his. They were wide with anticipation and excitement at the thought of the magic potion he had promised to bring her.

  He was wearing a chamber robe and had nothing on beneath it. Suddenly he threw it off and stood naked and erect within two feet of her. She gave a gasp, but before she could speak he smiled and said:

  ‘I have not lied to you. I have within me the magic potion that you need.'

  16

  The Stolen Honeymoon

  It was not long after midnight when Pauline gave a happy sigh and exclaimed, 'Oh God, how good it is to be possessed again by a man!'

  Pulling her towards him, Roger buried his face in her neck for a moment then gave a laugh, ' 'Twas that you needed, most beautiful of all the beauties. And when you wake tomorrow you'll find all your joy in life restored.'

  Clutching him closer she said quickly, 'I'll not sleep yet. Remember you promised me a second draught of your magic potion; though I little thought then how you meant me to receive it.'

  'You shall have it, sweet, and a third; and yet another as dawn breaks over Bordeaux. I wonder, though, that you did not suspect my intent; for though I spoke a riddle I had in fairness to give you the chance to read it aright.'

  She laughed. 'You fooled me utterly. 'Twas your talk of magic, three candles only, a bright fire, a deep sleep and to awake relaxed. Then when I saw you standing beside my bed! Such a fine figure of a man, so handsome and so—so virile, how could I resist?'

  It was that upon which Roger had counted, and it had been his only card. Had she rejected him he would not have attempted even to kiss her, let alone force himself upon her. Knowing by repute her passionate nature and that for two months at least she had not been made love to he had gambled on the sight of him naked being alone sufficient instantly to stir her hot southern blood. And her reaction had been that for which he had hoped.

  She had suddenly stretched out a hand to grasp him. Next moment his mouth had been glued to hers. There had been no amorous dalliance, not a word spoken between them. Both she and he had been seized with a brainstorm that resulted in a wild scramble. He remembered tearing aside the bedclothes and her great eyes moist and gleaming in the light from the candles as she threw herself back then pulled him down upon her. Next moment they had been locked in a fierce embrace ending several minutes later in sweet oblivion as they together died the 'little death'.

  Turning slightly in his arms, she whispered, 'You are prodigious brave, mon Colonel. Do you realize the risk you ran? Had I not felt on the instant a desperate urge for y
ou, I might have screamed for help. Then, even had I later had the wish to pardon you, your outrageous conduct would have conic to the ears of Napoleon; and he has had people shot for less.'

  ‘I know it; but having counted the cost of failure my yearning for you overcame my fears. The very sight of you has sent me half crazy with desire ever since I first set eyes on you at Montebello.'

  'Can that be true? I was then but a chit and getting over my schoolgirl infatuation for Fréron.'

  'You were the loveliest baggage for your age in all Italy; or Europe for that matter.’

  She leaned over and gave him a long kiss, then said, 'How truly delightful it is to hear you say that you have been in love with me for years. It makes me far less shamed to think that I gave myself to you without even the demurs demanded of my sex by convention. And I'll confess now that more than once when you have paid your respects to me in Paris I've caught myself thinking that I'd enjoy going to bed with you.'

  'Then this night was decreed by Heaven. Though I'm mightily flattered that you should have had such thoughts of me.'

  'I'm not alone in that. When women are together the subject is always men and I've heard several confess that they would welcome your attentions. But in Paris you are looked on as a prude.'

  'Indeed!' Roger laughed. 'I'm far from that. But I find little pleasure in casual romps with ladies only passably good-looking, and there are few who are perfect enough to rouse in me ardent desire.'

  'Another compliment. If words were all, you would make a gallant any woman would dote on. But if we are to enter on an affaire I need to judge you by your deeds, and our first joust was too fierce and swiftly over for me to assess your mettle by it.'

  Pushing her from him, Roger slipped out of bed. Startled, she sat up and cried anxiously, 'Don't leave me. What is it? Have I offended you?'