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Authors: Rosalind Laker

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‘Then his wife must be the art lover. He introduced her to me. Her name is Ellen and she’s an American from Boston. She was expensively and elegantly dressed. A pretty woman about his age, but with a firm mouth and chin that suggested to me she would not allow any waywardness from him.’

‘Do you think he’s met his match?’

‘Who can say? The meeting lasted only a matter of two or three minutes.’ Then her eyes danced. ‘But here’s the really interesting part. Behind his wife’s back he must have watched to see which way I went, because after about five minutes he was suddenly by my side again with no sign of her. That’s when he asked about you and wanted to know where you were.’

Lisette blanched. ‘You didn’t tell him anything?’

‘No, of course not! I gave him the perfect answer. I told him he should ask your stepmother for information as he knew her so well! He went crimson with rage and stalked off!’

Lisette flung back her head and laughed. ‘You could not have said anything that would have enraged him more.’

‘He deserved it! Would you like to hear some news about your stepmother too?’

‘Not particularly,’ Lisette replied dryly, ‘but I can see that you’re going to tell me.’

‘I met Lorraine from school when I was last in Paris and she told me. Isabelle has married again. An elderly and very wealthy Italian this time, who has homes in Tuscany, Switzerland and Nice, which should give her plenty of scope for amorous intrigues. The château has been closed up with a caretaker in charge.’

‘What of my little half-brother?’

‘All I heard from Lorraine was that she had seen him once with Isabelle and he is a healthy, fine-looking little boy.’

‘I’d like so much to see him again, even though in retrospect I have wondered if he was my father’s child.’ She let her shoulders rise and fall on a sigh. ‘But that hasn’t stopped me remembering how I loved him as a baby.’

She wished she could have found the strength to tell Joanna of her own baby, but it was still too painful to share with anyone except Daniel and she believed it would always be the same.

‘How is George?’ she asked as Joanna refilled her glass.

‘Oh, that’s all over.’ Joanna flapped a hand in dismissal. ‘I was very fond of him, because he had a great sense of humour, but he was too much hunting, fishing and shooting for me. I embarrassed him and everybody when I cried during a shoot when they were bringing down all those lovely birds. Now I have someone else.’

‘So who is this new man?’

‘He’s Russian,’ Joanna answered enthusiastically, ‘and totally beautiful from head to toe. His name is Boris and his surname in unpronounceable.’

‘Why is he here in this country?’

‘He’s on some diplomatic business for the Tsar. It was he who called in one of his fellow countrymen, who is a designer for the stage, to do this room as a gift for me.’

‘Shall I meet him?’

‘Yes, he’s taking us to a gala performance at Covent Garden Opera House this evening and afterwards we’ll be going on to a party. All my friends want to meet you.’

‘What a fun way to end this auspicious day!’

Boris was exceptionally handsome, tall and broad-shouldered and extravagantly mannered. He bowed deeply when he kissed Lisette’s hand. ‘I am honoured, mademoiselle.’

His English was poor, but he spoke French fluently and the three of them conversed in Lisette’s own language until they arrived at the party to which they had been invited. Then in between dancing and supper and dancing again he drank himself insensible, but was still beautiful even in his cups. He was left on his host’s sofa when Joanna and Lisette went home again.

It was already dawn as the hansom cab carried them through the streets that were empty now except for a number of revellers here and there making their way homewards, still waving flags and wearing patriotic headgear. On the way the cab passed maidservants coming up steps from basement kitchens with jugs or lidded containers to meet the milkmen, who were on their rounds ladling out milk for the households.

‘It’s a pity Boris doesn’t stick to milk instead of alcohol,’ Joanna remarked on a sigh. ‘That lovely creature will kill himself with it before long, although he’ll be back in Russia by then.’

‘Shall you be very sad when he leaves England?’

‘Yes, for a little while, but I can forget everything when I’m painting. It’s as if I lose myself in another world. I’m going to start a portrait of you before you go home to your movie maker.’

Lisette liked Joanna’s work. The portraits were strong and yet sensitive, while her landscapes were sweeping, capturing the feeling of space and the open air. In the studio Lisette sat for her against a background of looped grey silk. Yet the two of them were so busy, going to exhibitions and other events by day and partying every night with Boris escorting them, that the portrait was only just finished when the day came for Lisette’s departure.

Joanna carried the packaged painting when she went with Lisette to Victoria Station to see her off on the train.

‘Now you will come down to the coast again very soon and stay with us, won’t you?’ Lisette said through the open carriage window.

‘I promise,’ Joanna said. She stood waving until the train had carried Lisette’s fluttering handkerchief of farewell out of sight.

Daniel approved of the painting and had just finished hanging it above the fireplace in the sitting room when Jim arrived in search of him.

‘That’s fine portrait of you, Miss Decourt,’ Jim said admiringly as he stood back to study it carefully. ‘There indeed is a face to launch a thousand cameras.’

Daniel grinned. ‘How right you are, Jim.’

It seemed to Lisette that the look they exchanged had more to do with her than an admiration of her likeness. Yet she had forgotten about that moment when Daniel mapped out his next project as they sat together in the firelight.

‘It will be a story with romance and drama,’ he said, full of enthusiasm. ‘For the time being comedies will still be made, for those bring in the money, but this time I’m aiming to tell a full story!’

‘Your first epic!’ she exclaimed, delighted

He grinned. ‘That’s what it will be!’

‘The title?’

‘“Out of the Flames.”’

‘Splendid! What comes out of the flames?’

‘Love, of course. It’s time to put romance on the screen.’

‘I agree!’ she exclaimed delightedly.

‘There’s something else I want to tell you.’

‘Yes?’ Her eyes were still sparkling from what she had heard already, but as his expression became serious she realized that he had something else on a different line to say to her. Yet his next words were totally unexpected.

‘I think we should marry, Lisette?’

She straightened up in her wing chair. ‘Why?’ she exclaimed in astonishment. ‘We decided long ago that neither of us needed marriage in our lives.’

‘That was when you were in flight from a man you had no wish to marry and I had not fully overcome a setback in my past.’

‘But I don’t understand. Whatever has happened to make you change your mind?’

‘I have good reason.’

She felt the old fear of being trapped and took refuge in being slightly scornful. ‘Don’t tell me it’s the gossip? I knew there was tittle-tattle long before Mrs Pierce left us and it is still rife.’

‘You know me better than that,’ he replied soberly.

‘Then why do you want to change everything? Surely we’re happy as we are! What difference would a marriage certificate make?’

‘Suppose we should have a child?’

She was taken aback and averted her eyes from him. It was not chance that she had not become pregnant. ‘We had a child,’ she exclaimed emotionally. ‘One who can never be replaced!’

‘Do you think I don’t realize that?’ He moved across to sit on a footstool beside her and gently turned her face to him again. ‘For that child’s sake we should be husband and wife. If ever she should come looking for us in years to come it would lift the stigma of illegitimacy from her to find that her parents are married to each other.’

Her eyes were agonized. ‘How could she ever find us?’

‘One day she’s going to see her birth certificate and discover the truth if she has never been told, which is most likely. Maybe it will happen when identification is needed for a passport or perhaps for a marriage, but sooner or later she will discover her true identity.’

‘But she’s not three years old until May!’ Lisette exclaimed in exasperation. ‘How can you look so far ahead?’

‘Because I love you and will always love you to my last breath. That’s why I want the pain in you to heal by your looking to the future instead of being held back by the past. Marry me, Lisette. The time is right for us now.’

She sat very quietly, looking down at her hands resting in her lap. ‘You really believe that, don’t you?’ she said softly.

‘With all my heart.’

It was a long time before she finally raised her head and her eyes, warm and loving, gave him his answer. He stood to draw her up from the chair into his arms and kissed her.

Three weeks later they left for France. Lisette wanted to marry in Lyon. An invitation had been sent to Daniel’s sister and her husband in Edinburgh, but they declined as he was not well. They sent a very handsome wedding gift which was an elegant silver set of a Georgian coffeepot, teapot, milk jug and sugar basin. Lisette was delighted with it

On the way to Lyon she and Daniel broke their journey for a week in Paris where she met her lawyers and signed some papers concerning her inheritance. As they left the lawyers’ chamber again she linked her arm in Daniel’s and he grinned into her face.

‘I told you that you would always be able to have jam with a croissant.’

She laughed. ‘Now I want to go shopping to prove it!’

At the House of Worth she chose a wedding dress and jacket in blue velvet with a fashionably large hat trimmed with ribbons, veiling and silk roses. Daniel had a discreetly splendid suit for the wedding day that had been made by his Saville Row tailors and in the Champs Elysèes she bought him a silk cravat with a trace of blue in it that matched her bridal attire.

When they arrived at the Bellecour house it had been fully opened up at her instruction with fresh flowers in all the main rooms, and temporary staff installed to take care of everything during their stay. Then there began a renewal of friendships for her in the community and introductions for Daniel, who only knew the Lumières. The brothers were continuing their immense success. One of their cameramen had stood in a gondola in Venice and turned his camera slowly around to take the whole panoramic view, which was again a ‘first’ for the brothers and had already become known as ‘panning’ a scene.

Two days before the wedding Joanna arrived to be bridesmaid. She had chosen her own gown in burgundy silk and a beautiful hat as large as Lisette’s with abundant trimming. She was so excited to meet the Lumière family, whom she declared were the source of the entire movie industry, that the brothers gave her a tour of the factory and they answered her many questions with patience and a smile at her enthusiasm.

The wedding day dawned bright and sunny, but cold. Multi-coloured sunbeams, coming through a stained glass window, fell full on to Daniel and Lisette as they stood side by side for the service in the church she had always attended as a child. Monsieur Lumière himself took a motion picture of the bridal couple coming out of church, which would be presented to them before they left Lyon again. Joanna departed the day after the wedding with a promise that she would see Lisette and Daniel again soon.

When the time drew near for their departure, Lisette felt the same fierce wrench at the prospect of leaving the old house as she had done previously. Secretly she wished they could have gone on living there with Daniel engaged in work less hectic than movie making, but it was in his blood and nothing could change it.

On the eve of their leaving they went into the blue salon where she opened the bureau and drew forward a sheet of paper. Picking up a pen, she held it out to him.

‘You write the letter,’ she said.

He gave a serious nod, looking deep into her eyes. ‘Do you know now what you want to say?’

‘Yes. Do you?’

He nodded. ‘I’ve been giving it a great deal of thought ever since we first discussed it.’

He sat down at the bureau and she rested a hand on his shoulder as together they composed a letter to their daughter. Then they both signed it before he folded it into an envelope. He rose to his feet and took her gently by the shoulders.

‘Now we have done everything in our power,’ he said quietly. ‘Everything else will depend on the convent and meanwhile we must be patient through the years ahead.’

Her head drooped as tears gathered in her eyes. He drew her forward and held her close to him.

They broke their journey to Paris as Lisette had done in the past to visit the convent. To Lisette’s relief the abbess was available and agreed to see them. As Daniel’s surname was unknown to her she had supposed them to be a couple wanting to adopt, but she recognized Lisette immediately and welcomed her. She listened compassionately as Daniel explained their mission.

‘So you see,’ he concluded, ‘it is our earnest hope that one day our child will want to trace us and perhaps discover that she was born here.’

The abbess gave a little sigh and her sympathetic gaze rested on their anxious faces. ‘It is good news that you have found and married each other,’ she said, ‘but the situation is the same as when you last called here, Lisette. No,’ she added as Lisette asked if there had been any communication from Josephine de Vincent. ‘We have never heard from her since she left here the last time. Yes, I will take your letter.’ She held out her slim-fingered hand to receive it. ‘This is not the first time I have had a similar request, but I cannot say there will ever be a result. I have been here twenty-nine years and to date I have never had an inquiry from any of the many children that have been born here.’

It was a depressing statement of fact and Lisette was downcast as they left, until Daniel spoke optimistically to cheer her. ‘There’s always a first time for everything, and maybe our daughter will surprise Mother Abbess one day by arriving in search of us. We must never give up hope. Remember that sooner or later Marie-Louise will become curious about her origins.’

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