The Devil on Horseback

by Виктория Холт

  “What has happened?” I asked, my heart sinking for I had thought from the first that it had been unwise to share the secret with them.

  “Mimi came to me last night and said that Bessell wanted to speak to me. It didn’t occur to me then what it meant. I thought it was something about the horses. When he came, he was different somehow .. not a bit like the old Bessell. He stood there with a rather unpleasant look on his face and didn’t offer any excuse for coming in like that. He said there was a cottage vacant on the estate and he wanted to have it so that he and Mimi could get married right away.”

  “Well, I suppose that’s a natural request.”

  “I said I thought he should see the head groom and he said that the head groom was not sympathetic towards him so he thought he would go over his head to me. He said that he’d heard through a friend of his who worked on the Grasseville estate that they were all looking forward to the wedding and they only hoped nothing happened to stop it.”

  I caught my breath.

  “Yes,” I said, ‘what then? “

  “He implied that he was very friendly with this man at Grasseville and others there too. They were sorry that the wedding was delayed through my mother’s death and they were just hoping that nothing else would happen …”

  “Oh Margot,” I said, “I don’t like it.”

  “Nor did I. It was the way he said it. He thought that after our trip he’d got to thinking that I might be kind enough to speak for him about the cottage because a word from me could settle the matter.”

  “It’s blackmail,” I cried.

  “He’s hinting that if you don’t get the cottage for him, he’ll tell his friend at Grasseville about the trip . and this friend of his will see that the gossip reaches the family.”

  Margot nodded slowly.

  There is only one thing to do,” I told her.

  “You should never submit to blackmail. You must see Robert before he has any chance of hearing of this from anyone else. You must tell him the truth.”

  “If he knew that I had already had a child he wouldn’t want to marry me.”

  “He would if he loved you.”

  She shook her head.

  “He wouldn’t. I know he wouldn’t.”

  “Well then, there would be no marriage.”

  “But I want to marry him!”

  “You wanted to marry James Wedder once. You ran away to do just that.”

  “I was young and foolish. I did not know what I was doing then. It’s different now. I’m grown up. I have a child. I have plans for the future … and they include Robert. I’ve fallen in love with Robert.”

  “All the more reason why you won’t want to deceive him.”

  “You are very hard sometimes, Minelle.”

  “I’m trying to think what is best for you.”

  “I can’t tell Robert. In any case I have already told Bessell he shall have the cottage. Oh, it’s no use your looking shocked. I’ve said it is for Mimi who has worked well for me.

  I shall marry Robert; they will stay here, and I shall never see them again. “

  “Blackmailers don’t usually work that way, Margot. The first demand is rarely the last.”

  “When I am married to Robert I shall tell him, but not before. Oh, I do wish there was not this delay over the marriage.”

  I looked at her sadly. I felt that events were closing in around us too quickly and too menacingly.

  We never rode out unless we were accompanied by a groom. That was the Comte’s orders. But I was beginning to notice that curious looks came my way. At one time I had been aloof from the hatred of the crowds. I was a foreigner and although I was at the chateau they had at first thought I was there in some menial capacity. Now they had changed. I wondered whether the rumour that I had had a child by the Comte had spread to them.

  As we spent a great deal of time in the chateau precincts I saw more of Leon and Etienne than previously. They both had their duties about the estate and even they did not ride out singly.

  It was interesting to talk to them and gather their attitudes towards the situation. Etienne was of the opinion that the old regime could not be shaken. He had the utmost contempt for what he called ‘the rabble’. The army would be called out, he said, if they attempted to rise, and the army was firmly behind the King. Leon was of the opposite opinion.

  They would sit over the table long after a meal was finished, arguing together.

  “At the moment the army is with the King,” said Leon, ‘but it could turn and once it did that would be the end. “

  “Nonsense,” said Etienne.

  “In the first place the army would never be disloyal and even if it were, power and money is with the nobility.”

  “You haven’t moved with the times,” retorted Leon.

  “I tell you that at the Palais Royalethe Due d’Orleans has been j spreading sedition. He has been giving every encouragement to agitators.

  Everywhere you go they are screaming for Liberty, Equality and Fraternity. They are murmuring against the Queen and even against the King. Etienne, you shut your ears. “

  “And you are always mingling with the peasants, and attach too much importance to them.”

  “I believe I give them the importance they deserve.”

  So they argued and I listened and thus began to get a certain grasp of the situation. That each day it was becoming more dangerous I had no doubt and I wondered constantly what was happening to the Comte in Paris.

  Etienne said to me one day: “My mother very much wishes that you would call on her one day. She has asked me to invite you. She has acquired a piece of porcelain … a rather fine vase which is said to be English. She would very much like to have your opinion of it.”

  “I am not an expert on porcelain, I’m afraid.”

  “Nevertheless, she would like you to see it. May I take you over there tomorrow?”

  “Yes, that would be pleasant.”

  The next day I was ready at the appointed time. It was about three-thirty when we set out.

  Etienne said: “It is better to take the path I showed you. I believe I told you that the Comte had it made years ago. He could visit the house easily then. It has become a little overgrown. It’s rarely used now.”

  He was right. It was overgrown. The branches met in several places over the path and the undergrowth was thick now that the summer was with us.

  Gabrielle was waiting.

  It is so good of you to come,” she said.

  “I am so anxious to show you my acquisition. But first we will take Ie the. I know how you English love it.”

  She took me into the elegant room where I had sat with her on another occasion. While we drank tea she asked me if I had enjoyed my trip to I told her that I had found it most interesting.

  “And did you notice how we are imitating the English?”

  “I noticed a great deal that was English in the shops and how so many proclaimed that they spoke the language.”

  “Ah yes, everyone is taking Ie the now. It must be gratifying to you.

  Mademoiselle, to know that you are such a success in our country. “

  “I think it is just a fashion.”

  “We are a fickle people, you think?”

  “Fashions come and go with us all, do they not?”

  “It is like a man with his mistress. They come and go. The wise ones realize that there is generally nothing permanent. The favourite of today can be the discarded of tomorrow. Is the tea to your taste?”

  I assured her that it was.

  “Do try one of these little cakes. Etienne loves them. He eats far too many. I am very lucky to have my son visit me so often. My brother comes too. We are a closely knit family. I am a lucky woman. Although I could not marry the Comte, at least I did not lose my son. When the relationship is not so close men are inclined to bring their illegitimate children up in secrecy. I think that must be rather distressing for the poor mother, don’t you?”

  I
felt my colour rising. She had heard the rumour obviously and was she suggesting that I was the unmarried mother of the Comte’s son?

  “One can imagine without experiencing it that it must be upsetting for the mother,” I said coolly.

  “But then I suppose it would be said that it is a contingency which, had she been wise, she would have considered before she put herself into that unfortunate position.”

  “All women are not as far-seeing, are they?”

  “Evidently not. I am looking forward to seeing your vase.”

  “Yes, and I to showing you.”

  She seemed to linger over tea and I noticed that on several occasions she glanced at the clock in the shape of the chateau which, on our previous meeting, she had told me was a present from the Comte. I believed she did so now to remind me of his fondness for her.

  She chattered a great deal about Paris, a city which she clearly loved, and as I had been enchanted by it and felt my visit there had been far too brief, I listened with interest.

  She told me that I should have visited Les Halles to see the real Paris and she certainly had vivid powers of description. She made me see the great circular space with the six streets leading to it-and all the stalls piled with produce. Then she told me how second-hand clothes were sold from stalls on Mondays on the Place de Greve. It was called the Fair of the Holy Ghost, for what reason she had no idea.

  “Oh it is amusing to see the women turning over the garmeats and snatching them from one another,” she said.

  “Skirts, bodices, petticoats, hats … they are all there in piles. The women try on the clothes in public which causes a great deal of noise and amusement.”

  So she went on chattering of Paris and in due course she sent for the vase. It was beautiful a deep shade of blue etched with white figures. I told her I believed it was Wedgewood. She was very proud of it. She said it was a gift from someone who knew how she enjoyed things that were English and I wondered whether she was hinting that the donor was the Comte.

  When I said I must go she delayed me with more chatter and I came to the conclusion that she was not only a jealous woman but a garrulous one.

  She became momentarily serious.

  “Ah,” she said, ‘when one is young . inexperienced, one believes all one is told. One has to learn not to attach too much importance to the protestations of a lover. He has one object in mind generally. But I have my son. Mademoiselle, and he is a great comfort to me. “

  “I am sure he must be,” I said.

  She was smiling at me.

  “I know you. Mademoiselle, will understand.”

  Her look was almost conspiratorial. I had a very uneasy feeling that she knew of Chariot’s existence and was she really under the impression that he was my son?

  “I feel I can really talk to you,” she went on, “I know how perceptive you would be. There has always been an understanding between the Comte and myself. You do believe me?”

  “Of course, since you tell me so and naturally, in the circumstances there would be.”

  She added: “When our son was born, he was so proud. He has always been so fond of Etienne. The resemblance is strong, don’t you agree? He wishes that he had defied opposition in the first place and married me. He always wanted a male heir. What a tragedy if the title and estates went to a distant cousin. He would never allow that. It was understood between us that if the opportunity arose we would marry.”

  “You mean,” I said coldly, ‘if the Comtesse died. “

  She lowered her eyes and nodded.

  “If she did not, then Etienne would be legitimized. Of course it would be easier if we married. And now she is dead and … it is only a matter of time.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Indeed it is. Mademoiselle, we are women of the world. I know the Comte well. I know his partiality for attractive young women and in your way-a rather unusual way-you are attractive.”

  “Thank you,” I said icily.

  “It would not be wise to attach too much importance to his attentions.

  Perhaps you think I am being presumptuous, but in view of my relationship with the Comte . my knowledge of him which goes back over many years, I feel I should warn you. You are a foreigner and may not realize how life is lived here. I believe you could put yourself in a very unpleasant situation. The death of the Comtesse . your presence at the chateau . Sometimes I wonder if the Comte arranged it. “

  “Arranged … what!”

  She lifted her shoulders.

  “You will go back to England. It could then be said that you had had your hopes …”

  I stood up.

  “Madame,” I said, ‘if you are hinting something will you please be more explicit. “

  “Yes. Let us speak plainly. In a year’s time-in a respectable period the Comte and I are to marry. Our son will be made legitimate. An unpleasant rumour about the Comtesse’s death will persist.”

  “It has been settled that she took her life.”

  “Oh but. Mademoiselle, we have to contend with rumour. You will leave here. That is what the Comte intends. I can assure you that soon he will send for you. You will go with Marguerite … or perhaps back to England. People will say an Englishwoman came here for a while. She hoped to marry the Comte and the Comtesse died suddenly … while the English Mademoiselle was in the house.”

  “Are you suggesting that I … It … it’s utterly false.”

  “Of course. But after all, you did come here. You were friendly with the Comte. It was obvious that you had hopes. You see there is the foundation.”

  “Madame,” I said, “I find this conversation nonsensical and offensive. You must excuse me as I wish to bring it to an immediate end.”

  “I am sorry. I thought you should know the truth.”

  “Good day, Madame.”

  “I understand your indignation. You have been treated unfairly. I’m afraid the Comte is ruthless. He uses people for his own ends.”

  I shook my head and turned away.

  She said: “You must wait for Etienne. He will take you back.”

  “I am going now. Goodbye.”

  Shaken and trembling I went out to the stables. I wanted to put as far as possible between that woman and myself. Her insinuations were not only offensive; they were frightening.

  How dared she suggest that the Comte had brought me here as a scapegoat, that he had killed his wife in order that he might marry Gabrielle and had done it in such a way that the blame could be attached to me.

  It was inconceivable. It was the raving of a jealous woman. How could I doubt his sincerity after those scenes between us. That he was a sinner he had never denied. He had much to answer for, but he could never have deceived me so utterly, treated me so callously, as he would have if what she was suggesting were true.

  And yet . How suspicious I was! I had been thrust into a world which, brought up as I had been by a god fearing mother with definite ideas of right and wrong, I could not understand.

  How long had her affair with him continued? Was it still going on? Did she still attract him? Ethics, morals were considered so differently in the society from which I had come. Perhaps in high places in England there was a similarity. The King’s eldest son. Prince George, was notorious for his amours and so were his brothers. There were scandals among the aristocracy. I was sure that those who lived and thought as my mother had, enjoyed happier lives. Then I began to wonder why simple people were thought to be less clever than the sophisticated ones, when the simple people were often happier, and as everyone sought happiness, the wise must be those who knew how to find it and keep it.

  Tortured by my thoughts I had come some way down the path and had reached the spot where the undergrowth grew thickest.

  I did not know what it was that broke into my thoughts but I was suddenly uneasily aware of being watched. It might have been the cracking of a twig; it might have been a certain premonition. I could not say, but in that moment all my senses were alerted. I
had the feeling that I was being watched and trailed . and for an evil purpose.

  “You must never go out alone.” Those were the Comte’s injunctions. I had disobeyed them. Well, not exactly. Etienne had accompanied me to his mother’s and I had expected him to come and take me back, which no doubt he would have done had not I, incensed by his mother’s insinuations, left when I did.

  Fifine, my mare, had been ambling quietly along for it was difficult to gallop or canter along this path. It would be dangerous, for she needed to pick her way carefully lest she trip over a gnarled root or a tangle of bracken.

  “What is it, Fifine?” I whispered.

  She moved forward cautiously.

  I looked about me. It seemed dark because of the trees. There was silence and then suddenly a sound . a stone being dislodged . a presence, close . very close.

  I was fortunate on that day. I leaned forward to speak to Fifine, to urge her forward and just as I did so a bullet whistled past that spot where a few seconds before my head had been.

  I did not hesitate. I dug in my heels. I said: “Go, Fifine!” She did not need to be told. She was as aware of danger as I was.

  Neither of us cared for the unevenness of the path. We had to get away from whoever was trying to kill me.

  There could be no doubt that that was the intention for another shot rang out. This was wider of the mark but clearly I was the target.

  It was with tremendous relief that I came into the stables.

  One of the grooms came forward and took Fifine from me. I said nothing to him. I thought it wiser not to. My legs were trembling so much that I could scarcely walk.

  I went to my room and threw myself on my bed.

  I lay there staring up at the canopy. Someone had tried to kill me. Why? Someone had lain in wait in the undergrowth waiting for me to pass along. Who had known that I had visited Gabrielle?

  Etienne. Leon, I remembered, had been there when Etienne had suggested the visit. I had mentioned it to Margot. Any of the servants might have known.

  Had someone lain in wait for me? But for that sudden bending forward to speak to Fifine the chances were that I should now be lying dead in the lane.

  Margot put her head round the door.