The Duke gave an exclamation of annoyance, but, as he moved to call for a footman, he felt a hand on his arm.
“Pray do not trouble about the light. It is best that you should not see me too closely, so that, if you are asked to describe me, you can truthfully say you don’t know what I am like.”
“You imagine then that they will come in pursuit of you?” the Duke quizzed her.
“I expect so,” was the calm reply.
“In which case it would be best for us to introduce ourselves. I, mam’selle, am the Duke of Melyncourt, at your service.”
“Enchantée, Monseigneur. And I am Amé.”
There was a pause.
“A pretty name,” the Duke said at length, “and an unusual one, but is that all you intend to tell me?”
“That is all I know.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said it is all I know. I was christened Amé, which means ‘soul’. I am called Amé because it is easy to pronounce. It is the only name I have. Voila tout!”
“I see.”
“You are puzzled, Monseigneur, but it is quite simple. I was left at the Convent when I was just a baby. My mother pinned a note on my robe. It read, my daughter is christened Amé, because in giving her to God, I give also my own soul and my last hope of Heaven.”
There was a throb in the girl’s voice as she spoke, a sound that somehow seemed to him to be strangely moving.
There was a sudden silence and then at length, almost as if he was embarrassed by it, the Duke said,
“And you have remained at the Convent ever since?”
“Mais oui. I have lived there all my life.”
“And you are not happy there?”
“I have been very happy, but something happened today that made me decide to run away.”
“I would like to ask what it was that drove you into taking such a desperate course. But if you would rather not tell me, I shall, of course, understand.”
“It is easy to tell you things, Monseigneur. I don’t know why, I have never been alone with a man before.”
“Never?”
“No, of course not. The only men we see at the Convent are the Priests and the fathers of the novices who come occasionally to visit them.”
“So there are other young girls at your Convent?”
“Oh, yes. They talk about taking the veil, but really they come to the Convent to be educated. There are six girls of my age there at the moment and, of course, there are many nuns. They are very kind and sweet and I love them very much.”
“And yet something has happened to make you run away?”
“Yes, something that made me angry – very very angry.”
There was a touch of impetuosity in the young voice now.
“Will you tell me what it was?” the Duke enquired.
“It is perhaps a great sin for me to be so angry,” was the reply, “and yet, even now, sitting here with you. Monseigneur, I think I am right. I will tell you about it and you must promise me to say whether you think I am right or wrong in what I have done. I am sure that most people would say I am wrong, but you – you are an Englishman.”
“How do you know that?” the Duke interrupted.
“I heard your servants talking. One of them said, ‘these Frenchies make me sick. Danged if I knows why ’is Nibs, don’t stay where ’e belongs.”
She spoke the last words in English with a note of laughter in her voice.
“So you speak my language?” the Duke exclaimed in the same tongue.
“Certainement! I can speak English,” Amé replied, “as well Italian, German and Spanish. The Reverend Mother was very particular that we should be fluent in all languages, but I found English the easiest to learn.”
“You speak it very well.”
“Merci bien, Monseigneur! The nun, who taught me, Sister Margaret, is English. More than once she said to me, ‘Amé, you must have English blood in you for no one could learn a language so quickly unless it came naturally to them.”
“And have you?” the Duke enquired. “No, that is a useless question, for you don’t know the answer.”
“I only know that I am Amé.”
“And you have still not told me why you are running away.”
“I was coming to that when you ‒ interrupted me.”
“I must apologise.” The Duke said with a faint smile.
“It does not matter,” she assured him quite seriously. “But I was about to tell you what happened. You must understand, Monseigneur, that I have lived at the Convent for over seventeen years. I have always known it to be my home. I have always been happy with the nuns. They have never made me feel I was any different from anyone else. Most of the other novices stay until they are educated, then they leave. There have been one or two who have decided that they had no desire to return to the world. They have asked that they might remain in the Convent and take the veil.”
She paused for a moment to catch her breath before she went on,
“No one has been allowed to take their vows until after their eighteenth birthday, the Reverend Mother Prioress has always insisted upon this. Even when a novice has begged and pleaded with her, she would not give permission. Hélas! It is a very serious step, you comprehend, to give up one’s life to God.”
“Of course,” the Duke murmured.
“Always the Mother Prioress has said to us that one must consider the matter very deeply that one must be quite certain that one will have no regrets. I shall not be eighteen for three months, but constantly I have thought of what I should do. I have talked about it with the nuns, I have discussed it with my Confessor and always they have said, ‘wait and see. Don’t be in a hurry, Amé. If God wants you, some sign will be given to you’.”
She paused again and then resumed her story
“And then today, when I was walking in the Cloisters, one of the nuns came to tell me that I was wanted by the Mother Prioress. I went to her at once and found, when I reached her room, that she was not alone. There were two Priests there – two strange Priests I had never seen before – and I thought when the Mother Prioress, greeted me that she looked perturbed and worried. There seemed to be an expression in her eyes that I had never seen before.”
The Duke was listening to her intently now as she continued,
“She took me by the hand as if to give me some reassurance, turned to the two Priests and said, ‘this, gentlemen, is Amé’. One of them, a frighteningly stern man it seemed to me, told me that it was the wish of the Cardinal that I should take my vows immediately.”
She looked apprehensive,
“I was so surprised and astonished at what he had to say that I think they were a little impatient with me. Both Priests impressed on me that it was a command, a command I must obey. All the time they were speaking the Mother Prioress said nothing, but I had the feeling that she did not agree with them. Something one of the Priests said made me feel that she had argued with them before I had appeared. But they were very arrogant. Then when they had told me what I had to do ‒ I was dismissed from their presence.”
Amé stopped speaking.
The Duke could not see her, but he knew her breath was coming a little quickly, her small breasts were heaving as if the telling of the story had quickened her anger into flame.
“So you ran away!” he said at length.
“Tiens! I don’t know how I dared to do such a thing,” Amé replied, “but I felt rebellious. The look on the Priest’s face seemed to tell me how unimportant and insignificant I was. The Cardinal gave an order and what the Cardinal commanded must be done, whatever the cost to me.”
“Do you know which Cardinal gave such an instruction?” the Duke enquired.
“But, of course, Cardinal de Rohan – Prince Louis de Rohan.”
“Have you ever seen him?”
“No, never! But our Confessor visits him from time to time.”
“You think that he has spoken about you to the Cardinal?”
“Je ne sais pas, perhaps so, but I cannot really believe that he asked for me to be admitted sooner than anyone else, for always Father Pierre has been the one who has told me to wait, not to be in a hurry, to be quite certain before I make my final decision.”
“It certainly seems very strange,” the Duke agreed.
“I know now exactly what I intend to do,” Amé replied. “I am going out into the world for a little while. I am going to see things I have never seen, things I have only heard the other girls talk about. I am going to live like an ordinary person and then if after that I decide that it is right for me to take my vows, I shall return to the Convent.”
“How are you going to do this?” the Duke asked a little drily, “besides if, as you suspect, they will come in search of you, you will not get very far.”
“Voyons, they have not caught me yet,” Amé replied. “If you will take me as far as Chantilly, perhaps there I shall find someone travelling to Paris, to Rheims or Orleans. It does not matter to me very much where I go.”
“My dear child, you cannot possibly travel about the country like that. You are too pretty for one thing.”
“Pretty? Am I pretty?” Amé asked. “I have never thought about it. The girls have sometimes told me my hair is a dangerous colour. But we are not supposed to think about our appearance.”
“It may not be of consequence in the Convent,” the Duke said, “but it will certainly matter in the world outside.”
“In what way?” Amé enquired.
“In the usual way that the possession of looks or the lack of them affects any woman,” the Duke replied. “You tell me you have been brought up in a Convent. Are you so innocent that you do not know if you are a pretty woman, men, whatever you may think of them, will want to make love to you?”
“I will not listen,” Amé replied, “but if they are troublesome – I am prepared.”
“Prepared?” the Duke questioned in surprise.
“Yes, feel!”
The Duke felt her touch his arm, then he felt the prick of a sharp point through the velvet of his coat.
“What is that?” he enquired.
“It is a dagger,” Amé replied. “And I shall always carry it with me in case anyone should attempt to do things to me that would be wrong. It belonged to an Italian girl. She told me it was very old and had been in her family for many years. People have been killed with it, she said. At first I did not want it when she gave it to me, but it was useful for my embroidery and now I am glad that I have it. So you see, Monseigneur, I am armed, n’est-ce pas!”
“You certainly seem to be able to look after yourself,” the Duke commented gravely.
“I am sure I can,” Amé replied. “The only thing that worries me is that I have no clothes.”
“No clothes?”
“Only the ones I am wearing and they will give me away at once. I have on the white robe of a novice and the dark cape we wear in the choir when it is very cold. I could bring nothing away with me, because I did not know I was coming.”
“Do you mean to tell me that you decided on this fantastic escapade when you saw my coach?” the Duke enquired.
“Vraiment, it is hard to make you understand,” Amé replied. “Imagine, Monseigneur, there is a pear tree in the garden and sometimes when we are very naughty we climb it so that we can look over the wall. I should have been in my room asleep. But I was worried and angry so I slipped out after the curfew had sounded to walk in the garden.
“There was no one to see me and because I was so incensed – it is my red hair that makes me so hot-tempered – I thought I would climb the pear tree and look over the wall. I looked up and there was your coach just drawing up. I don’t know quite what made me do it, except maybe it was Fate or the Devil, but I slipped over the wall and climbed down as close as I could to the coach to listen to what was being said.”
She smiled a nervous smile and went on,
“I saw you get out and walk among the trees. I saw your men start to unharness the lame horse. No one was watching and the door was open. I could hardly believe what I had done until I found myself on the floor with the rugs pulled over me.”
“You are obviously a young lady of impulse,” the Duke said. “I cannot imagine what will happen to you now you are out in the world.”
“While we have been talking, I have been thinking about that. It is quite easy – très facile!”
“What is?” the Duke enquired.
“What I shall do now,” Amé replied.
“And what will you do?” the Duke asked.
“I shall go with you wherever you are going. I shall be quite safe then.”
“That is impossible.”
“Why?”
“But, of course, it is impossible,” the Duke said sharply. “I am going to Paris.”
“But I would like very much to see Paris. Always I have wanted to go to Paris. I would be no trouble, I promise you that.”
“Now, listen,” the Duke said severely. “I am perfectly prepared to give you a lift to Chantilly, there is no harm in that and, if you disappear as soon as we get there, I will swear that I have seen nothing of you, should any questions be asked.”
“But that will be lying,” Amé said reproachfully.
“I don’t think we can worry at this moment about a lie here and there,” the Duke said lightly. “I will also give you money for some clothes. You can then enjoy a little freedom before you return to the Convent. They will find you sooner or later or else you will decide that it will be best for you to return, but that is none of my business. When we reach Chantilly, we will part. I think I shall always have a moment of regret that I shall not know what eventually happens to you.”
“It would be much easier for me to go to Paris with you,” Amé persisted.
“I cannot see that there will be anything easy about it,” the Duke replied. “I can hardly arrive in Paris with an escaped nun. They might even say that I had abducted you. It would cause a great scandal and do nobody any good.”
“But I am not a nun, I am only a novice and they would not think that you had abducted me when you have never seen me before,” Amé answered, “and besides, why should anyone know? I can be your maidservant or something like that.”
“It is not my habit to travel with maidservants,” the Duke retorted. “The staff who are accompanying me are all men and any maidservants required will already be engaged when I arrive in Paris.”
“Then that is easy – I must be a man. What sort of man can I be?”
“Now you are being ridiculous,” the Duke said.
“Alors, but I am not! I could be your page. Of course I can be your page. One of the new postulants was telling me how her brother is page to the King. He is not yet fifteen years old and yet he has already been three months at Versailles. Now, if the King can have a page, you can have a page – you are a Duke and surely a Duke is entitled to a page?”
“I already have a page,” the Duke replied sharply.
“Where is he?”
“In a coach that is following me. When we arrive at Chantilly, he will undoubtedly turn up. He is a cousin of mine, a weakly boy who was seasick the whole way across the English Channel and who has complained of feeling ill ever since.”
“Voyons, but he is obviously unfitted for his post,” Amé said firmly. “In which case he must go home and I will take his place.”
The Duke put his hand to his forehead.
“Listen, my child,” he said patiently. “The whole idea is preposterous from beginning to end. I am left in no doubt that your fertile imagination is unsuited to a Convent, but that is not my concern. I will help you in any way I can, but I will not, under any circumstances, take you with me to Paris. Now is that clear?”
“Mais, Monseigneur, you could not be so unkind.”
The words burst forth half-indignantly and half-reproachfully and then suddenly the Duke felt a very small warm hand slipped into his.
“Please
help me,” a soft voice pleaded. “Please! Please!”
“I cannot,” the Duke answered. “You must see that it would be utterly impossible.”
“Why should it be? I promise you I will be no trouble to you. I will do anything you say, I will obey you in every way, except to go away from you at Chantilly. Please let me stay, please!”
There was a pause and then, before the Duke could speak, Amé said again,
“I did not know that men could be so hard and cruel. First the Cardinal, then those two Priests giving me orders in a way that made me hate them and now – now – you! I did not think, as I saw you in the light of the lantern that you would be like this somehow.”
“What did you expect me to be?” the Duke asked, curious in spite of himself.
“I thought you looked so strong, like – like someone who would avenge a wrong and – how do you say it – protect those who are weak. I thought too as I looked at you that you were very handsome.”
Quite suddenly the Duke began to laugh. This child, flattering and pleading with him, her hand holding his as they journeyed together, was something that he had not anticipated in his very wildest dreams. He laughed, and even as he laughed he was well aware that her fingers had tightened on his as if she clung to him almost desperately.
He remembered that first quick glance at her as she had risen from the carriage floor, the fear in her eyes, the loveliness of her hair in the candlelight and, even as he thought of her, he recalled the last time he had seen the Cardinal de Rohan.
The Prince had been sitting in the opposite box to him at the Opera. One of the wealthiest Seigneurs of France, the Cardinal’s manly figure was shown to its best in his ecclesiastical clothes. But there was nothing saintly about his witty tongue or indeed about the lines of dissipation beneath his lecherous eyes.
He had been surrounded by several attractive women that evening and the Duke remembered that he had been told that it was a well-established fact that the Cardinal’s mistress often travelled with him disguised as an Abbéss. He knew that he had disliked the Prince Louis de Rohan. There was something sensuous and vicious about him, something that decent men shrank from even if he was dressed in the trappings of Holiness.
Love Me Forever Page 2