The Demon Lover

by Виктория Холт

“How did you do it? There are no horses!”

  “Coercion. Bribery. It happens, you know, even in the most disciplined armies.”

  I caught my breath.

  “You mean … the Germans?”

  “I’m paying a good price. Money, it seems, is still the key to most things in the world. What a mercy I have a certain amount of that useful commodity.” Then he shouted: “Kendal. Where are you?

  Come here. We’re going away. We’re going to the country. We leave at the crack of dawn tomorrow. Jeanne! Jeanne, where are you? Be ready.

  The horses will be here tomorrow morning. I want to get going as soon as it is light. Kate, you and Jeanne will ride together. I’ll take the boy. “

  How excited we were! There was a little bread dipped in wine which was all we had for supper. We didn’t care. It was over. Tomorrow we should be on our way. The Baron had said so; and we believed that he could do anything however impossible it might seem.

  The Loge

  How happy I was to leave that beleaguered city behind me. That we escaped as we did was something of a miracle and I realized afterwards that only the power and sheer effrontery of Rollo de Centeville could have achieved it.

  The people in the streets were like so many pale skeletons. They were quite different from the lively, voluble people I had known. They had emerged from the ordeal angry and bewildered and were clearly prepared for further evils to befall them. The Baron had not only hired horses but a guide, who must have been one of the hangers-on of the occupying army, to get us through the city. I did not ask questions. I thought it better not.

  We took the quickest route going southwards, for it was of the utmost importance to leave Paris behind us as soon as possible.

  As we passed the Luxembourg Gardens memories flooded back. I could almost see the oriflamme kite flying in the sky. I glanced at Kendal to see if he remembered and again I was struck by his pallor. His arms were like sticks whereas once they had been rounded and plump. He was intent now, sitting there, no doubt thinking of that imaginary white steed which the Baron had “given” him for Christmas. There was a light of excitement in his eyes. I thought: It’s true. We shall soon nurse him back to health.

  The Baron kept glancing towards me, to make sure that I was still there. He smiled at me encouragingly. I knew he was prepared for setbacks, but I saw the same love of adventure in his face as I saw in

  Kendal’s. I thought: They l are astonishingly alike. And I knew we were going to get’ through.

  And we did.

  When we left the city behind us, the Baron paid off the guide and we were on our own. It was wonderful to breathe the fresh country air. We came to an inn and stopped there and had some refreshment. There was not a great deal to be had but we were no longer in famished Paris.

  The Baron ordered a little soup.

  “Not too much at first,” he said.

  “We will eat little and frequently.”

  The soup tasted delicious. We had hot bread with it and I thought there could not be anything more appetizing in the whole world. I knew the others were of the same opinion.

  “We’ll get along,” said the Baron.

  “The sooner we reach Centeville the better.”

  It was a hazardous journey for there were soldiers everywhere. They did not take much notice of us a man who was crippled, two women and a child. They were not very curious.

  “Even so,” said the Baron, ‘we will avoid camps, if we can. “

  We stopped again and took a little bread and cheese. The Baron was able to buy some cheese and bread, which we took with us. There was not a great deal of food to be had, but as he said, after such privation as we had suffered, we had to eat sparingly for a while, so it suited us.

  The Baron had plenty of money which he scattered freely and which gave us what we needed. We stayed at an inn one night and spent another in a derelict hut close to a farm.

  It was an exciting journey and with each hour the fact that we had escaped gave us courage and the necessary strength to carry on.

  I was amazed that in the condition we were in, we could ride as we did.

  “People do what they have to,” said the Baron.

  And at length we came to the castle.

  He had been right. It was untouched. I knew what a proud moment it was for him when he rode under the portcullis.

  The effect was amazing.

  I heard voices shouting.

  “It’s the Baron. The Baron is here.”

  People seemed to be running in all directions.

  “The Baron is back. The Baron is safe.”

  We were exhausted . even he was. We had needed all our strength to get here and now we had arrived we realized how great the strain had been.

  “What has happened in my absence?” asked the Baron.

  “Have the soldiers been here?”

  He was told no. They had been in Rouen. They had occupied the towns, but had left most of the smaller places alone.

  “We need rest and food,” said the Baron.

  I had never seen such activity. Kendal’s eyes were round with wonder.

  This was the castle about which the Baron had told him. His eyes were like brilliant lamps in his pale little face. The stories to which he had listened with such enchantment were becoming reality.

  I found myself in a room with him. A fire burned in the grate. Food was brought to us. Soup again-hot and savoury.

  “I like castles,” said Kendal.

  Then we lay on the bed together and slept far into the next day. I remember opening my eyes and suddenly realizing where I was. The siege was over. I was safe in the Baron’s castle . safe in his care.

  Kendal was sleeping beside me. How pathetically his bones stood out!

  But there was a smile on his lips.

  For a moment I made myself forget everything . Nicole’s death, the terrible moment when I had thought I had lost my son, the face of the little dead boy. I pushed it all away. I was here . safe in the castle and the Baron had brought us to safety. He would take care of us.

  I just lay still and slept again; and when I awoke it was late afternoon.

  A servant was standing by the bed.

  She said: “Are you awake, Madame? We had orders to let you sleep until you awoke.”

  “I have slept for a long time, I think.”

  “You were exhausted. The other lady is still sleeping. And the little boy.”

  I nodded and said: “And the Baron?”

  “He was up this morning. He sent me to see if you needed anything. A meal will be served in half an hour if you would like to take it.

  Kendal, hearing voices, had awakened. He sat up and I saw the slow smile spread across his face as he looked round the room.

  I said: “I should like to wash if that is possible.”

  “But of course, Madame. Hot water shall be brought.”

  “Thank you.”

  Kendal watched her, wide-eyed, as she went out.

  “Are we going to stay here … always? This is the Baron’s castle. I want to see it… all of it.

  “I dare say you will,” I told him.

  “We’ll wash and then we’ll go down and see what happens next.”

  When we were washed we still looked somewhat bedraggled, for we had only the clothes we had travelled in and naturally had been unable to bring anything with us.

  I took Kendal’s hand and we went down together.

  “You know the way,” he whispered in awe, looking round at the thick stone walls with their tapestries of battle scenes.

  I gripped his hand tightly, feeling that we were walking into the unknown.

  We came down into the great hall where the Baron was waiting . with a woman. I recognized her at once, although she had changed a great deal from that young girl whom I had painted in the Rue du Fauborg Saint-Honore.

  “Kate,” said the Baron coming towards me, ‘you are rested? And you, Kendal? “

  I said we were, and Kendal j
ust gazed at the Baron, his eyes round with wonder and admiration.

  “You have, of course, met the Princesse.”

  I stepped forward and Marie-Claude held out her hand. I took it.

  “Mademoiselle Collison,” she said, ‘it seems a long time since we knew each other. And you have been through a terrible ordeal. The Baron has been telling me of it. “

  I said: “We are fortunate to have come through it alive.”

  “And this is your son?” She was looking at Kendal and I could not guess what she was thinking.

  “Yes, my son Kendal,” I said.

  Kendal came forward and took her hand. He kissed it in the French manner.

  “Charming,” she said, then she turned to me: “The siege must have been terrifying.”

  “We will go into the dining-room,” said the Baron.

  She hesitated.

  “The boy … should he eat with William?”

  “Not today,” said the Baron.

  “We will see later.”

  “There is another woman …” began the Princesse.

  “I gather she is still sleeping. Something can be sent to her r. om when she wakes.” He spoke authoritatively, and his voice was distinctly cool when he addressed her. Knowing him now, I thought, quite well, and also knowing a little of her, I tried to picture what their life together was like. I imagined that normally they saw very little of each other.

  Kendal had gone to the Baron and was smiling at him, and I noticed how the Baron’s face softened as he looked at him.

  “I like your castle,” said Kendal.

  “I want to see all of it.”

  “You shall,” the Baron promised.

  “When?”

  “Some time.”

  The Princesse led the way into the small dining-room where I had eaten before, so it was familiar to me. The Baron sat at one end of the table, the Princesse at the other. Kendal and I were opposite each other, and as it was a large table we seemed very far apart.

  There was soup first. It seemed easier to eat and the most satisfactory food, for after almost four months of deprivation one had to adjust oneself to eating normally. There was an impulse to overeat at the sight of so much delicious food and we all knew even Kendal that we had to restrain that impulse.

  The Princesse said: “You must tell me all about your terrible ordeal.

  We knew that the Baron was in Paris, of course, and we thought we might never see him again. “

  “It must have been a shock when I turned up,” said the Baron coldly.

  The corners other mouth lifted nervously and she smiled as though he was joking. She said: “We waited every day for news. We did not know what would become of us all. These fearful Germans …”

  “The French will admit defeat,” said the Baron.

  “There’ll be treaties, unpleasant consequences for us, and then I suppose the French will begin rebuilding.”

  “The Baron does not consider himself to be French,” said the Princesse to me.

  “He dissociates himself from their defeat.”

  “It was mistaken tactics from the first. Folly which resulted in the only possible outcome.”

  Kendal said: “Are there dungeons?”

  “Yes,” the Baron told him.

  “I will show them to you.”

  “Is anybody in them?” asked Kendal in a low voice.

  “I don’t think so. We’ll have a look tomorrow.”

  I said: “It’s very good of you, Princesse, to be so hospitable.”

  “We are honoured, Mademoiselle Collison.” She stressed the Mademoiselle . “The great artist to stay under our roof!

  Remember “Men can make kings but only God can make an artist.”

  Mademoiselle told me that on our first meeting. Do you remember, Mademoiselle? “

  There was something defiant about her, I detected. She was frightened of him. She hadn’t changed very much from the girl who had come to my bedroom on that very first night and pretended to be a maid.

  “I remember very well,” I said, ‘and I repeat, it is very good of you to have me and my son here. “

  She spread her hands.

  “It is natural that you should come here. You have been with my husband. , . suffered with him … acted as nurse to him, I hear .. and now you have escaped with him. You must try this fish. It was caught only this afternoon and is very lightly cooked without sauces as after your ordeal you will have to eat very carefully at first, it has been explained to me.”

  “Thank you. You are indeed very good. You understand that the Baron has very kindly offered us the Loge until I can get back to Paris.

  “I know. It has to be made ready as it has not been used for a long time. For a few days you must stay here. I hear your studio in Paris was a great success … before the siege.”

  “I had many clients.”

  “It is a long time since we last met. Six years … or more. My little William must be about the same age as your boy.”

  “Yes, I dare say.”

  The Baron had said little. He was watching us intently.

  He talked mostly to Kendal, who wanted to know if they would defend the castle if the Germans came here.

  “To the last man,” the Baron told him.

  “Are there battlements?”

  “There are indeed.”

  “Shall we pour boiling oil down on the invaders when they use their battering rams?”

  “Boiling oil and tar,” said the Baron solemnly.

  The Princesse smiled at me and lifted her shoulders.

  “War, war …” she said.

  “Talk of war. I’m tired of war.

  Mademoiselle Collison, after we have finished I will come to your room and talk to you. You need clothes. You must need many things. “

  “We did leave in a great hurry,” I explained, ‘and so brought nothing with us. “

  “I am sure we can help.”

  “Perhaps,” I suggested, ‘there is some seamstress who could make something for us. I hope soon to be working again. I do have money.

  Money was not the problem in Paris. “

  “I am sure we can arrange something,” she said.

  There was a little chicken after the fish. The menu had been carefully chosen. It was the first real meal I had had for months and I felt revitalized. There was a faint colour in Kendal’s cheeks. I could see he was thoroughly enjoying this adventure.

  The Baron took him off after the meal and the Princesse came to my room with me.

  When the door of my room shut on us, she seemed to change. She dropped the pose of chat elaine and became the young girl I had known.

  “Life is odd,” she said.

  “Fancy seeing you again. I’ve thought of you every time I’ve looked at the miniatures, and of course I heard about your salon in Paris. You really became well known, didn’t you? It seems such a long time ago.”

  “It is.”

  “Kate,” she said.

  “I called you Kate, didn’t I? I liked you … from the start I liked you. You had an air of independence about you.

  “Take it or leave it. If you don’t like me, employ another artist.” You have a child now. Bertrand de Mortemer’s, I suppose. Yet you didn’t marry him . even though there was a child. “

  “No,” I said, “I didn’t marry him.”

  “And you had a child … and you were not married!”

  “That’s right.”

  “You were brave.”

  “I didn’t want to marry. We … er … didn’t want to marry each other.”

  “So you had the child. How did you manage?”

  “I was befriended, and then I had the salon and people came, and in that world it didn’t seem to matter so much as it would in a more conventional one … If you understand.”

  “I do. I wish I had been in a less conventional world. Your boy is beautiful. He needs a good deal of feeding up.”

  “He has been four months in a siege. We wer
e near starvation when we came out.”

  “And the Baron brought you out. My noble husband! What was he doing in ” You must ask him. “

  “He never tells me anything.” She hesitated, and I think she was on the verge of a confidence, but she seemed suddenly to realize that she might be somewhat indiscreet.

  “I’ll bring some clothes for you to try,” she said.

  “And the seamstress?”

  “That’s for later. At first let me give you something. You are taller than I and so thin … That might help … your being thin. You won’t take up so much. I’ll send one of the maids in with some things.” She looked at me wistfully.

  “When I used to hear about you in that Paris salon, I envied you. I missed Paris. I hate it here… this gloomy old castle. I feel like a prisoner sometimes. I get so tired. I have to rest a lot. It is since William’s birth.”

  She turned away and went to the door.

  I sat down. The food was having its effect and made me feel sleepy. I lay on the bed for a while but did not sleep. Now that my mind was freed from the preoccupation with food, I began to see the situation in which I found myself more clearly.

  I could not go on here. It was only a temporary respite. Even if I stayed in the Loge I should be living on the Baron’s bounty and I could not endure that for long. I must get back to Paris. But how could I get back to Paris? It would be months perhaps a year before there would be a hope for me to work there.

  I kept thinking of his words: “You have to consider the boy.”

  Yes, I had to consider Kendal. He must be my first responsibility. No matter what personal humiliation I suffered, as long as Kendal profited that was all I must think of. After all, the Baron was his father. It was not like taking from a stranger.

  The maid came in with three dresses, and some petticoats and undergarments.

  “The Princesse asked if you would try these, Madame,” she said.

  I thanked her and tried on the dresses. They were not a good fit, but they would suffice until I could get something made.

  I had to admit to myself that it was a great relief to get out of the clothes which I had worn for so long.

  As I changed into a green velvet dress, I thought: There is nothing I can do but accept what fate has thrust upon me. I need rest as well as food; my mind needs adjusting. One does not go through the ordeal of losing a great friend, one’s father, and four months of starvation with death threatening at every turn without needing some adjustment.