“It is coming now,” he said.
“I am to be given my orders. I think he probably waited until the miniature was completed before giving them to me.”
“Perhaps he merely wants to say goodbye. You will be leaving soon, won’t you?”
“I plan to travel to Paris with you and your father.”
“That will be very pleasant for us.”
“I understand someone will be accompanying your father to England.”
“That is that I have been told.”
“Then you will have nothing to worry about. How do you feel about going to the Princesse?”
“Do you mean, do I feel nervous? The answer is no… not after what happened. The Baron has really done a great deal for me.”
Bertrand nodded.
“We will meet when you are in Paris.”
“That will be very nice.”
“You didn’t think I would let you slip away, did you?” He looked at me earnestly.
“Kate, when you have finished this commission you must come and stay with my mother. She wants to meet you.”
“I should like that very much. I’ll look forward to it.”
“Kate …” He hesitated.
“Yes?”
“There is something I have to say to you.”
“Well, I’m listening.”
“I… er …” He paused.
“I think I hear sounds of arrival. It may be Rollo is coming back already. He’ll probably be wanting to see me.
He must have changed his plans . I wonder what my orders will be.
Perhaps we can talk it over later. “
“All right then … later.”
“Au revoir, Kate.”
He was smiling at me in a rather bemused way. I guessed what he had intended asking me. It must surely be that he wanted to marry me. I felt a certain pleasure at the prospect. I was not really sure. I had been living in circumstances alien to everything I had known before.
It was understandable that I should be affected by them and to such an extent as not to be able to make a sound judgement, I had known Bertrand such a short time, yet I should feel desolate if I
should have to say goodbye to him and never see him again. And yet. I was so uncertain. I was rather glad that the Baron had decided to return early and so had put off the moment of decision even for a little while.
It must have been an hour later when Bertrand came to my room. He seemed like a different man from the one I had known. His face was blotched and his eyes slightly bloodshot. His mouth twitched with uncontrollable rage.
“Bertrand,” I cried.
“What on earth has happened?”
He stepped into the room and shut the door.
“I am leaving the castle at once.”
When? Why? “
“Now. Immediately. I just came to tell you. I will not stay here a minute longer than I need.”
“You have quarrelled with the Baron?”
“Quarrelled?” he cried.
“I will never speak to him again. He’s a devil… He’s worse than I believed him to be… and God knows that was bad enough. He’s a demon. I hate him. And he hates me too. Can you guess what he wants me to do?”
“No!” I cried, bewildered.
He spat out: “Marry! Marry Nicole.”
“What?”
“He wants her settled comfortably … and he has ordered me to make an honest woman other.”
“No!”
“But yes. That is what he has just told me.”
“How could he suggest such a thing!”
“He just did.”
“And Nicole?”
“I doubt she knows anything about the transaction. That’s how it is with him. He makes the laws and other people carry them out.”
“But how could he suggest such a thing. What did he say?”
“He said that now he was marrying he wanted to find a husband for Nicole and he thought that I would fit the book very well. He would make her an allowance and one for me and I should be considerably richer than I am now. I just let him run on and then I shouted at him.
I told him I would never marry his castoff mistress. “
“He must accept that.”
“He didn’t. He said I was a young fool. I was turning down a good offer. He wanted me to marry Nicole and that was the best reason in the world for my doing so. He was going to put all sorts of opportunities in my way. He would be my generous patron … I kept shouting at him that I would not marry a mistress he no longer wanted.
I said I had my own plans for marriage. “
“You … said that?”
“I did. He didn’t believe me. Then I said: ” I’m fond of Kate, and I think she is of me. “
“What did he say to that?”
“He was stunned for a few seconds. Then he laughed at me. He said:
“Nonsense. She’d never have you. In any case I should consider such a match most unsuitable.” I lost my temper. I remembered all those times when we. my family . had had to do what he wanted. This was the last straw. I went on shouting about his throwing his castoff mistresses at me and that I would never marry any of them. Then I went to my room and started getting my things together . “
“Oughtn’t you to wait until tomorrow?”
“Stay under this roof! Never! There is an inn not far from here. I will go there for the night and then tomorrow morning I’ll be waiting for you and we’ll travel to Paris together.”
“Oh Bertrand,” I said.
“I am so sorry.”
“I had to make a stand some time. There comes a time when it is simply not possible to take any more. You gave me courage. He can do me no harm. He might endeavour to make us poorer … never mind that now.
I can get by without him. Oh Kate, in a way I feel wonderfully relieved. I feel free. Do you think I was right to act as I did? “
“Absolutely right.”
“And don’t you think it was a horrible thing to suggest?”
“Despicable.”
He took my hands and kissed them.
“Kate,” he said, ‘will you marry me . when we’ve had time to work things out? “
“Yes,” I replied.
“I will.”
Finally he released me.
“I shall be out of this castle in a quarter of an hour,” he said.
“I will see you on the train to Paris.”
Then he had gone.
I was appalled by what Bertrand had told me, and I reproached myself for having felt I liked the Baron a little because of what he had done for me. He was ruthless, cynical and a man of no principles.
At dinner one or two people asked where Bertrand was and the Baron said that he had been called unexpectedly to Paris.
The next day my father and I left Centeville in the company of one of the Baron’s upper servants.
I felt completely bewildered by everything that had happened. In a short time I had not only been accepted as an artist of repute but had become engaged to be married. I wished that I did not feel so uneasy.
Had I perhaps been hurried into accepting Bertrand’s proposal because of the Baron’s despicable conduct? Poor Bertrand had been so distressed. I had felt I had to comfort him as best I could. It seemed to me that the Baron was changing the course of my life even if unwittingly, merely by being there a malignant presence.
I was fond of Bertrand. Of course I was. I liked what I knew of him, but how well did I know him?
I wished I had not been so impulsive. I was of course pleased that our relationship had not ended, but was I rushing ahead too fast.
I wished I could stop thinking about the Baron. It seemed so strange that a man who had done so much for me could have behaved as he had towards Bertrand.
It was fortunate that I was leaving the castle. When I had driven the Baron from my mind I would begin to see that life was offering me a wonderful future.
I must take it with both hands and be grateful
for it.
The Streets of Paris
I loved Paris from the moment I entered the city, and I promised myself that I would see as much of it as I possibly could during my stay there.
First we saw my father off at the Gare du Nord and then Bertrand, who had accompanied us on the train to Paris, said he would take me to the house in the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honore which was the Paris home of the Princesse de Crespigny and where I was to paint the miniature.
I was received by a dignified manservant who begged me to come in, so I said goodbye to Bertrand, who promised to see me within a few days, while the manservant summoned a maid and told her to take me to the room which had been prepared for me.
It was a magnificent house, and I was impressed by the wonderful staircase which wound upwards from the reception area. It was indeed a small palace and from the moment I entered it I was struck by the rather subdued but what, in my opinion, seemed the faultless taste of the decor. There was a great deal of white-the faintest touch of red and a certain amount of gold. It gave an impression of unobtrusive richness.
We went quite a long way up and I had an opportunity of examining the intricate ironwork of the staircase.
“Madame la Princesse will see you tomorrow,” I was told.
“We have instructions to make you comfortable and supply what you need. Madame la Gouvernante will see you later. She thought you would wish to settle in after the journey.”
It was as well that I had improved my French lately for she spoke in an accent of the south which was not easy to follow.
We came to a landing and a door was opened. I was in a rather large, pleasant room. The double bed had white lacy curtains about it held back by gold-coloured bands. The oriental carpets were subdued in colour pinks, blues and pastel shades; there were several pieces of furniture in the Louis Quatorze or Quinze period highly polished and extremely elegant.
The maid asked if I would like hot water with which to wash and I said gratefully that I would While I was waiting I went round the room examining its contents. How different from the castle at Centeville! I wondered if this elegant house reflected the personality of the Princesse as the castle certainly did that of its owner. Even at this moment my thoughts went back to him. What impudence to attempt to pass off his discarded mistress to Bertrand. I was glad Bertrand had stood up to him so fiercely. It had just taken that to turn me impulsively towards him.
When he became so angry he seemed to become a man I could admire strong, determined. Previously perhaps I had wondered whether he were not too much in awe of the Baron, which had indicated to me a certain weakness and made me wonder whether the protective kind of love he inspired in me was the right sort one should have for a husband.
It was too bad to let that odious Baron intrude into this charming house. But of course he must intrude. He was the reason I was here. It was good of him to have acknowledged the quality of my work. No, I thought fiercely, it was not. It was just plain honesty. The biggest rogue on earth could be honest about art and dispense with the ridiculous prejudices which prevailed against women.
I wondered if the miniature of the Princesse would excite me as much as painting the Baron had done. It was hardly likely. There would not be the same intrigue and subterfuge,
which although it had been frightening at times had in fact been very stimulating.
I washed and changed into a black skirt and white blouse and unpacked the rest of my things while I awaited the arrival of Madame la Gouvernante.
She came at length-a middle-aged woman wearing a black dress, very simply but elegantly cut. At her throat was a small diamond brooch, her only jewellery.
“Welcome,” she said.
“I trust you had a good journey. The Baron sent word that you would be arriving today but was unsure of the time.”
“It was good of him,” I said.
“We saw my father off and came straight here. My father is returning to England.”
“I am glad you speak French. Language can provide such difficulties.
If there is anything you lack, you must ring. ” She indicated the white rope hanging near the bed.
“I thought you would like your dinner sent up this evening. You must be weary after your journey. That will be in an hour’s time.”
“That will be splendid,” I told her.
“The Princesse … eris she eager to be painted?”
She smiled.
“The Princesse has been painted many times. She thinks little of it. You might find her an impatient sitter and I would advise you not to keep her too long at a time.”
“Thank you. I gather she is very young.”
“She is seventeen years old.”
“She should make a good subject.”
“I am sure. Mademoiselle Collison, you will see to that. Madame la Comtesse tells me that the Baron de Centeville has highly praised your talents.”
“It is kind of him.”
“He would not do so unless he meant it, Mademoiselle.” She was smiling at me.
“I suppose you are accustomed to going into people’s houses.”
“Well, I have just come from the Chateau de Centeville, where I have been for nearly three weeks.”
“This is a change from the chateau, is it not? Those old castles are so draughty. But perhaps you do not mind.”
“This seems very comfortable certainly.”
“Madame la Comtesse likes her comforts.”
“Forgive me, but I am unaware of the household arrangements. Who is Madame la Comtesse?”
“She is a distant connection of the Princesse and is her guardian, as it were. The Comtesse is launching the Princesse into society and making the arrangements for her marriage. The Princesse is an orphan.
Her family suffered greatly in the past troubles. “
“And you are her governess?”
“Oh no, Mademoiselle. I am the gouvernante, which means the femme de charge… of the household, you see.”
“Oh, I understand. In English we should say housekeeper.”
She repeated the word slowly, smiling as she did so.
“Now I know,” I said.
“It is good of you to take such care for my comfort.”
“I shall have food sent up to you … for tonight. Then we shall see.
No doubt the Comtesse will say how things are to be done. You can see the Princesse in the morning. I will have petit dejeuner brought to you with hot water at eight o’clock. Would that be convenient? “
I said it would be very convenient and she went out, leaving me alone.
A feeling of intense loneliness swept over me. I missed my father. I wondered where he was now. Possibly preparing to cross the sea. I wondered where Bertrand was. On the way home, probably, to tell his family that he was planning to marry me and that he had had a quarrel with the all-powerful Baron whom he had vowed never to see again.
How different this was from arriving at the castle. I tried to recapture the feeling of excitement and apprehension, that determination to succeed in the most difficult project I had ever undertaken, and then the mingled feelings of exhilaration and revulsion which had resulted in attempting to know the face of that wicked man who was capable of such outrageous conduct.
But what a subject he had been! I was beginning to think that in painting him I had achieved my masterpiece. He had aroused such strong feelings; he had had such an interesting face. When should I ever find such a complicated person wicked, ruthless . in fact one only had to think of the worst qualities in human nature and they seemed to apply to him. And yet he loved beautiful things and he had made an honest assessment of my work, and because he found it good he had defied the conventional belief of his sex that women should play an inferior role because it was all they were capable of. He had had the courage to stand up and say what he meant. Courage! It was no courage. He needed no courage to do and say whatever he pleased. He was all-powerful in his little world. He made the rules.
&nbs
p; Ah, I thought, but there are times, Baron, when you find people who are not ready to obey you. Dear Bertrand! He was a fine young man, not to be dictated to by the worldly cynical Baron. I laughed aloud and said: “Now, Baron, you will have to find another husband for the mistress you no longer want.”
Stop thinking of him, I commanded myself. This is a new assignment.
You will never see the Baron again. Why let him intrude into this elegant atmosphere where everything is going to be so different from what it was in the Norman castle?
I had come here in a blaze of glory acknowledged as a painter of merit. I was going to paint a seventeen-year-old girl innocent, unmarked by life. A lovely subject for a portrait which did not demand too deep an assessment of character. The skin would be smooth and unmarked by time; no secrets in the eyes; no lines on the brow. A pretty picture that was what I was going to do now. An innocent virgin, I thought, who was going to be handed over for that monster legally to deflower.
Poor child. I was sorry for her.
Then I said aloud: “Stop thinking of the Baron. You have done your work for him superbly and he has rewarded you adequately. Be suitably grateful and forget him.”
My tray was brought in. It contained cold chicken with a little salad covered in an unfamiliar dressing, but very pleasant. There was a fruit tart and a carafe of white wine. It was all very palatable.
In due course a maid appeared to take away the tray and I thought I might as well retire for the night. It had not been exactly an exuberant welcome, but I must remember that I was really employed here. This was the real French aristocracy who, I understood, were more formal than any in the world. I should see more tomorrow, and in any case, within a short time I should be on my way home. I had decided that I would go back before coming out again for the two definite commissions I had-one with Madame Dupont and the other with Monsieur Villefranche -accepted on that night when the Baron had shown my miniature of himself.
My father had been all in favour of this arrangement. He had said I must definitely accept these commissions for they would help to establish me in France where, with the backing of someone as influential as the Baron, I was likely to get more standing than I should in Victorian England.
“Once you have a name,” he said, ‘you can dictate what you will do.
The Demon Lover Page 9