She opened it.
To her astonishment she saw that the packing case was filled to the top with articles that were all wrapped up in pieces of linen.
This was what she had hoped.
Picking up the first one that came to hand, which was rolled up in a linen napkin, she unwrapped it.
She found herself looking at a beautiful gold drinking vase, which glinted in the light.
When she looked at the napkin a little closer, she saw that it had embroidered on it the Duc’s coat of arms.
For a moment she could only gasp.
What she guessed she had found was so tremendous that she could hardly believe it was true.
Then she was feeling into the packing case, pulling out one article after another.
First a gold plate, then another gold cup, gold spoons and more plates of every size.
Each one was wrapped in a linen napkin and she realised that this gave her a chance of survival.
She put the gold cups and plates back into the case and, picking up an armful of the napkins, she walked towards the cascade.
She tried to throw the first one, but the water swept it back onto the floor beside her.
She then realised that she had to have a better plan.
Going back to the wall, she collected some bricks.
She wrapped a brick in a napkin and threw it with all her strength through the cascade.
She knew it would reach the other side and hoped that, while the brick would sink to the bottom, the napkin would float.
Someone, surely someone would see the napkins floating on the surface of the basin and think it strange?
It was quite hard work, throwing the bricks one after another through the heavy fall of water.
Finally she had thrown the very last of the napkins.
Then she went back to the bricked-up wall and pulled away more loose bricks.
Finally she found another large case very like the one she had first discovered.
In this case there were the gold candelabra that must have been on the dining room table and there were also exquisitely made gold goblets, set with huge precious stones.
At any other time Celita would have been thrilled to examine each one.
But all she wanted at the moment was what they were wrapped in.
To her delight they were too large for the napkins and instead the candelabra were wrapped in tablecloths.
Some of the gold goblets were in red velvet covers from which the cushions had been removed.
Someone must see these, Celita thought desperately.
Carefully she threw them one by one through the cascade.
As she did so, she was aware the sun was sinking and soon it would be dark.
She must have failed in her effort to attract attention she told herself miserably.
What she had thrown through the cascade and into the basin must have sunk to the bottom or had been carried so quickly into the gorge beyond that no one had noticed them.
She sat down again on the body of the God who had helped her to saw her hands free.
She thought desperately that she could do no more.
‘Save me! Save me!’ she had cried in her heart as she had thrown first the napkins and then the other cloths through the cascade.
‘Surely,’ she thought, ‘the Duc must hear me calling him.’
She remembered that sometimes they could read each other’s thoughts and she had known what he was feeling without his having to say anything.
Just as he had looked into her eyes and known what she was thinking.
‘Come and – save me! Oh – come – and save – me!’ she called out to him with her whole heart.
She hoped that wherever he was, however much he was absorbed in his horses, he would realise that she wanted him.
She almost felt that she could see him.
He was looking so handsome, laughing at something that had been said or planning the future.
He had a look that told her all too clearly that he intended to get his own way.
He would not only be saving her.
If he knew what she had found, he would realise that he would be saving himself.
He would not have to be dependent on Lord Waterforde or anyone else.
She had been put here to die, but she had found the gold dinner service, which he had told her was the finest in France.
She was quite certain that the other cases behind the wall and there were many of them, would contain the Sahran jewels and other treasures that had been saved in this clever way from being looted in the French Revolution.
It must, she thought, have been done by the faithful servants they had left behind, when the family themselves had fled to escape the guillotine.
The reason they had never known what had happened would be that the servants themselves had lost their lives in trying to save the château from the Revolutionaries.
It was all a wonderful, wonderful story.
Yet if the Duc did not find her before she was dead, he would never know what she had discovered for him and him alone.
‘Oh – René! René!’ she called in her heart. ‘Come – and – save me – I – want – you!’
*
The Duc came back with his guests for luncheon in a very jovial mood.
Lord Waterforde had been delighted with his horses and even more with the Racecourse.
The Duc had arranged for all his finest thoroughbreds to be paraded in front of him and he and Clive had taken the others over the jumps.
Lord Waterforde had certainly been impressed and, when they returned to the château, was full of congratulations to the Duc, and incidentally to himself.
Judy ran upstairs to tidy herself before luncheon.
When she came down to find her father and the Duc enjoying a glass of champagne, she said,
“I wonder where Celita is. She must know that we are back by now.”
The Duc looked at his watch.
“It is after half-past-one,” he said. “I was rather afraid that she would be feeling hungry.”
“I am certainly hungry!” Clive piped up as he came into the room. “I have never jumped so high in my whole life.”
“You were magnificent, my boy,” Lord Waterforde patted him on the back.
The way he spoke told Clive that, because of his horsemanship, he had definitely been accepted into the Waterforde family.
The Duc made enquiries, but no one could find Celita and they went into luncheon.
He did not worry about her as he thought that she must have gone out for a long walk.
Then after luncheon he went into the morning room and saw her unfinished letter to her mother.
That seemed to him rather strange.
Although he knew her so little, he was quite certain that she was a very tidy person and if she set herself a task, he knew that she would finish it.
On an impulse he went upstairs into her bedroom and it was obvious that she was not there.
Nor, he thought, had she been there since the bed had been made and the room tidied.
‘Where can she be?’ he asked himself.
At three o’clock there was still no sign of Celita.
Lord Waterforde was anxious to go to see the mares and the Duc had to force himself to do what was wanted, even though he was now becoming worried.
In fact he hurried Lord Waterforde through his inspection of the mares and brought him back to the château much more quickly than he had intended.
There was English tea prepared for the English guests in the drawing room.
But by this time the Duc was really worried.
He also had the strange feeling that Celita wanted him. He could not explain it to himself, but he knew that he could hear her calling him.
There was a little catch in her breath as she did so, as if she was frightened.
‘What can have happened? What the devil can have happened?’ he asked.
He went into the hall and spoke t
o the Major Domo.
“I cannot imagine,” he said, “what has happened to Lady Celita. When did anyone here see her last?”
“I was told,” the Major Domo replied, “only a short while ago, monsieur, that a lady called to see Lady Celita this morning.”
“A lady?” the Duc asked.
“Yes, monsieur. But she asked for one of the maid, and it was she who took her Ladyship to the caller who was in the garden.”
“I don’t understand what is happening,” the Duc said. “Fetch me the maid!”
He went into his study and he was annoyed that it took nearly four minutes before Françoise appeared.
“What is your name?” he enquired.
“Françoise, Monsieur le Duc,” Françoise said, making a curtsey.
“How long have you been here in the château?”
“A month, monsieur.”
“Only a month?” the Duc asked. “Why?”
“I was very anxious to come here, monsieur.”
“And where have you come from?”
“Paris, monsieur.”
“I understand that today a lady called who wished to see one of my guests and the lady, whoever she was asked for you!”
“Oui, monsieur.”
“Did you know this lady before you came here?”
There was a long pause and when Françoise said “no!” the Duc that knew she was lying.
“I want you to tell me the truth,” he said sharply. “So I will repeat that question. Did you know the lady who called today, and what was her name?”
“I-it – was Madame Yvonne Bédoin, Monsieur le Duc.”
The Duc drew in his breath.
“Am I right in thinking it was Madame Bédoin who got you the position here in the château?”
“Oui, monsieur.”
“I presume she wrote to the housekeeper?”
“Oui, monsieur.”
“So when Madame Bédoin came here this morning, she sent for you?”
“Oui, monsieur.”
“Now, Françoise,” the Duc snapped, “I want you to tell me the truth. If you don’t tell me the truth, I shall know it and I shall take steps to make it very unpleasant and very uncomfortable for you. Do you understand?”
“Oui, monsieur.”
Françoise was now trembling as the Duc demanded,
“Tell me what Madame Bédoin said when she arrived.”
“She sent for me, monsieur, and told me that I was to ask Lady Celita to meet her in the garden.”
“In the garden!” the Duc exclaimed.
“Oui, monsieur.”
“And Lady Celita did so?”
“Oui, monsieur.”
“And what happened?”
“I don’t know, monsieur. I promise you I don’t know. Lady Celita ran down to where Madame Bédoin was waiting for her.”
“And where was that?”
“Just before where the lawn goes to the cascade.”
“And did you see Madame Bédoin after that?”
“Oui, Monsieur le Duc. She came back to the château – ”
“Alone?” the Duc interrupted.
“Alone, monsieur.”
“And what happened?”
“She sent for her carriage and left.”
“And what time was that?”
“I think about eleven-thirty, monsieur.”
“And you did not see Lady Celita come back?”
“Non, monsieur, and that is the truth. I did not see her again.”
The Duc rose from the desk where he had been sitting and walked out of the room.
He went quickly through the hall and into the garden.
He could not believe that Yvonne had physically attacked Celita, but anything was possible with a woman who was jealous, as she was jealous of him.
As he moved through the French garden, he could feel Celita calling him again.
Now he was sure that she had called him during the afternoon.
If she was calling him, then she must be alive.
Bur where could she possibly be?
The French garden came to an end and he stepped onto the well-kept ground that led down to the cascade.
He had almost reached it when he saw one of his gardeners, an old man who had been with him for some years.
He was coming from the end of the basin where the statues were.
He saw the Duc and hurried towards him.
“I was coming to see you, Monsieur, le Duc,” he said.
He was holding something in his hand and he held it out to the Duc.
“This was floating in the basin,” he said, “and there’re many more of them. I can’t think where they’ve come from.”
The Duc put out his hand.
For one horrifying moment he thought that what he was touching was a part of Celita’s clothes.
If it was from the basin, she was dead.
Then he was aware that it was a napkin and he saw his own coat of arms.
“You found this floating in the basin?” he asked.
The gardener turned round to point.
“Look, monsieur. Look! There are many of them.”
The Duc saw that he was right.
There were napkins forced by the water to the far end of the basin where it fell down into the gorge.
He looked at them and then at the cascade.
Even as he looked at the falling water he saw something red surge through the centre of it and fall into the water.
It was churned down and then up again, until it was floating on the water.
It was then that the Duc began to run towards the cascade and the gardener followed him.
He reached the door.
He put up his hand to find the key, which was always left in the lock.
He had given orders because he thought it was a mistake for people to keep going behind the cascade, that no one was to go in there.
The key, however, was ready for the gardeners if they had to clean out the basin and, as he well knew, the door could not be opened without it.
It was then that he realised where Celita was and who had put her there.
Turning to the gardener he ordered,
“Go at once and find the estate carpenter. Tell him to come here at once with his tools. We cannot open the door as the key is missing.”
There was no doubt from the way the Duc spoke that he was in a desperate hurry.
The man turned and old though he was, started to run back towards the château.
The Duc stood looking at the lock.
He was sure that Celita was inside and praying that he would come to her.
Now he was nearer, he could almost feel her vibrations moving out towards his.
Then he turned to look at the flowerbed at the side of the cascade.
It was almost as if he was being guided.
He saw the key flash in the last light of the sun before it sank behind the distant mountains.
He picked it up and opened the door.
As it swung open, he was almost afraid to go in, afraid of what he might find.
Then, as he stepped forward, Celita came rushing from the shadows.
“You – have – come! You – have – come! I prayed – you would – understand. Oh – you have – come to – save me!”
She flung herself against him and the Duc’s arms went round her.
Then his lips were on hers.
He was kissing her wildly, possessively, passionately because he was so terrified that he might have lost her.
Chapter Seven
The Duc raised his head and looked down at Celita.
She was staring up at him, her eyes radiant with an expression in them he had not seen before.
Then, as if he could not help himself, he asked in a strangely deep voice,
“How can you do this to me?”
Then he was kissing her again.
Kissing her until Celita felt that they were flying in the sky and her feet were no longer on ear
th.
She could not believe it was true that the Duc was kissing her!
He evoked in her feelings that she had never known before, but which she knew were love.
Only, when once again his lips left hers, did she say as if she could not help herself.
“I – love – you!”
“And I love you, Celita,” the Duc breathed. “I have loved you since the first moment I saw you, but I realised that you did not love me.”
He pulled her almost roughly closer to him as he added,
“I prayed in the way that you pray that you would love me. And when I saw you holding that baby in your arms yesterday, I just knew that you were the perfect woman you told me to find.”
“Is that – true? Is that – really – true?” Celita asked.
Her voice seemed to come from a long distance. It did not sound very coherent, but the Duc understood.
“You know it’s true,” he said. “You have told me to seek perfection and I found it with you. I love you and no one shall ever take you from me.”
The agony he had felt when he thought that she was dead swept through him again and he went on,
“How could you have been so clever in telling me where you were hidden? But when I saw what the gardener had fished out of the water, I thought you were dead.”
She knew by the pain in his voice how terrified he had been for her.
She moved to lay her face against his shoulder.
“I am – not – dead, I am – alive!” she stammered. “And – now that you have – kissed me I want to – live because love is so – wonderful.”
“Very very wonderful,” the Duc agreed.
Once again his lips were seeking hers.
Before he could kiss her, Celita put up her fingers to prevent him.
“I have something to tell you – something marvellous, which will make you very happy.”
“You have already made me happy,” he said. “You are everything I have wanted but, as you know, I have been disappointed. But now I have found you, I will never, never let you go.”
He spoke defiantly, as if he was challenging the world to take her from him.
Celita moved in his arms.
“Come and see what I have to show you,” she suggested.
It was growing dark, but it was still light enough for them to see their way to the back of the cavern.
The Duc was thinking how he had barred everyone from going behind the cascade and only Celita would have been intelligent enough to attract attention by throwing linen material into the basin.
Fascination in France Page 11