Darkest Longings (21 page)

pushed it away. Nothing, least of all her treacherous bodily

desire, was going to weaken her resolve to escape him.

She rounded the crest of the hill and looked down

towards her car. Then her breath caught in her throat and

she stopped dead. The Lagonda wasn’t the only car parked

at the side of the road. Beside it was the black Citroen, and

standing beside the Citroen, smoking a cigarette and staring

right at her, was Francois. In the early morning sunlight she

could see the silver snake of his scar glinting gruesomely.

He was wearing the suit he had worn the night before, but

now both the jacket and waistcoat were undone, and the

collar of his shirt was missing. As she watched he threw

away the cigarette and, folding his arms, leaned against the

side of his car. His attitude was that of a weary parent

waiting for a disobedient child.

A quick temper flashed in her lovely eyes, and she was on

the point of turning and walking in the opposite direction

when she realized that running away was not the answer. She

must face him now, tell him what she had decided, then she

could get on with the preparations for her return to England.

Cautiously she started down the hill, but she held her

head high and her face set in determination. Nothing in the

world would induce her to betray her real feelings - this

would be the last time they met, and she would rather die

than let him know how badly she still wanted him.

‘How did you find me?’ she said, when she was close

enough for him to hear.

‘It wasn’t difficult,’ he answered. ‘It followed that you

would run to your father.’

‘But he can’t have known where I was.’

‘No. But he did know you’d gone off in your car.’

‘Then why didn’t he come after me himself?’

‘He would have done, if I hadn’t arrived when I did. I

pointed out that though I respect the fact that you are his

daughter, you are also my wife.’

She flinched, but then she looked him straight in the eye.

‘I want our marriage annulled,’ she said.

‘Do you now?’ His tone gave her the distinct impression

that that was precisely what he had expected her to say.

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, Claudine, but that isn’t

possible.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘To begin with, you need my agreement.’

‘And you won’t give it?’

‘No.’

‘But why?’ she cried. ‘Why, when this marriage is

obviously as repugnant to you as it is to me?’

‘We shall both learn to tolerate it,’ he answered.

She was beginning to panic, and her hands were

trembling with the desire to strike his hideous face. ‘You

raped me!’ she hissed. ‘Am I supposed to tolerate that?’

He sighed, as if already bored by their exchange. ‘It is a

legal impossibility for a man to rape his wife,’ he said. ‘Now,

get into the car.’

‘I will not!’ she cried.

He didn’t move, but a dangerous glint appeared in his

eyes and she felt herself beginning to shrink away. ‘I think,’

he said, ‘that this is as good a moment as any to remind you

that less than twenty-four hours ago you swore before God

to love, honour and obey me. I do not expect the first, but I

li_

unconditionally insist upon the second and the third. Now,

get into the car.’

‘Why?’ she said, casting wildly about in her mind for

words she could hit back at him with.

‘Because we are going to Biarritz to continue our

honeymoon,’ he answered.

She froze, and her eyes rounded in horror. ‘You’re insane,’

she breathed. ‘You can’t seriously believe that I’ll continue this

farce of a marriage as if nothing had happened?’

‘I do. And you will.’

‘But people have seen me, they know …’

‘They know,’ he interrupted, ‘that we have returned to

Lorvoire for Magaly, who incidentally is already packing.

Perhaps you would like to thank me for seeing to it that you

have company during the long, lonely days beside the sea?’

Her head was beginning to spin. ‘What do you mean?’ she

whispered.

‘Only that I shall be unable to spend all my time with you.

Of course, I shall return to the hotel each night, when I

expect you to perform your wifely duty.’

‘I don’t believe this is happening,’ she said, shaking her

head. ‘And I don’t understand why you want to stay married

when you hate the situation as much as I do.’

‘You should have thought about what our marriage would

be like before you walked down the aisle, Claudine. I gave

you no reason to believe that my feelings towards you would

change once we were married. If you imagined they would,

then I’m sure you know by now that you were deceiving

yourself. Now, I won’t ask again, so get into the car.’

‘Why do you hate me, Francois?’ she said. ‘What have I

done to make you treat me like this?’

‘I don’t hate you, Claudine,’ he said, opening the car

door.

‘What about my car?’ she asked, so bemused she hardly

knew what she was saying.

‘Someone will come to fetch it.’

She looked at him, then not knowing what else to do, she got into the car.

‘I hate you,’ she said quietly as they started back down the

hill. ‘I despise you. How can you possibly want to make love

to someone who feels about you the way I do?’

‘But we won’t be making love, Claudine. We will merely

be performing an act in order to conceive children.’ His lip

curled in a smile. ‘And try to remember, while you’re

reciting the Marseillaise, or whatever it is you women do

when you’re lying on your backs, that you are not the only one performing a duty.’

Too appalled to speak, she turned to stare out of the window. In the space of a few hours her life had somehow turned into a nightmare from which, it seemed, mere was no

chance of waking.

The Honourable Frederick Benjamin Prendergast was

ambling back through the gardens of Montvisse from the

dovecote when he saw the creamy-white Armstrong

Siddeley, driven by Celine’s chauffeur, pass the black de

Lorvoire Bentley under the avenue of limes. The

Armstrong Siddeley, he knew, was taking Beavis to the

station at Chinon; he had said his farewells to Beavis half an

hour before. It had been an awkward meeting, like most of

their meetings this past week, since Beavis felt obliged to tell

Freddy on each occasion that he would consider it a great

favour if Freddy would refrain from mentioning, to anyone,

Claudine’s impromptu return to the chateau the morning

after her wedding. Freddy repeatedly assured Beavis that he

had already forgotten the incident, which brought a grim

smile to Beavis’ face: he was relieved it was only Freddy who

had been up at that hour of the morning, for it would have

been an embarrassment, to say the least, to have to ask the

other guests to keep silent - and madness to expect them to

do so.

However, almost everyone who was staying at the

Chateau de Lorvoire - which included Freddy’s sister,

Dissy - knew that Francois and Claudine had made a brief

return, and all had found it highly amusing that Claudine

was unable to manage for more than a day without her maid.

What none of them knew was that she had gone to

Montvisse first, and had come in a lorry a good half an hour

before Francois They did not know, either, that even

before Francois’ arrival, Claudine had already sped off

again in the Lagonda.

Freddy had seen Francois go after her, and he had also seen the two of them return, but he had no idea what had gone on behind the closed doors of the library and

drawing-room after that. All he knew was that Francois and

Claudine had left the chateau an hour later, and that when

he next saw Celine it was apparent she had been crying.

It wasn’t that Freddy had been deliberately spying on the

family’s comings and goings, it was simply that he had woken

that morning with the sunrise, to compose a sonnet for

Monique, and had gone to sit at the window of his room,

which happened to overlook the avenue of limes … And

Monique had simply adored the sonnet, he thought cheerfully

now watching her alight from the Bentley as it came to a stop in

front of the chateau. And thank heavens she spoke English so

well, else his sublime efforts might have been in vain.

Seeing him come across the gardens, Monique called out

to him, and Freddy’s entire body gave a quiver of pure

rapture at the way she pronounced his name.

‘Monique!’ he cried, and running up to her, he caught

her hands, kissed them, then held them to his heart.

‘Oh Id Id,’ she smiled, as she saw the look of adulation in

his eyes, and pulling a hand free, she started to tweak at his

disorderly thatch of sandy hair. ‘What have you been doing, cherie?’ she said. Then she moved her eyes to his in a way that brought the colour sweeping across his face.

“What do you think?’ he said shyly.

‘Not another! Oh, Freddy, what am I to do with you?’

He longed to tell her that he was hers to do with as she

pleased, but he didn’t quite have the courage, so he said,

Would you like to read it?’

‘Where is it?’

‘Here, next to my heart,’ he said, reaching inside his

pullover to take the poem from his shirt pocket.

Monique laughed. ‘Then keep it there. I shall read it

later, when we …’

‘When we what?’ he prompted.

Her answering smile was so lingeringly provocative that

he found himself leaning towards her.

‘Freddy,’ she murmured. ‘You are a naughty boy. I do

believe you are thinking to kiss me, right here in front of

Montvisse.’

Mortified, Freddy pulled himself together, all his ardour

now glowing in his fresh, youthful cheeks, and laughing,

Monique turned to Marcel, who promptly leapt from the car

and opened the back door for her to get in. ‘Come along, cheri? she said, glancing over her shoulder at Freddy.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Wait and see,’ she answered, taking-his hand as he got in

beside her.

‘But aren’t you going to call on Celine before you leave?’

‘Was she expecting me?’

‘Er, no, I don’t think so.’

‘Then there is no reason for me to do so, is there? You

may have me all to yourself this afternoon, Freddy. That is

what you want, is it not?’

‘I’ll say,’ he breathed, and she laughed gaily at his boyish

enthusiasm as Marcel turned the car round and started back

down the drive.

‘I am so pleased you have stayed on at Montvisse,’ she

said, when they were heading along the road towards

Chinon.

‘It was kind of you to ask Celine if one could,’ he

responded. ‘She’s an absolutely spiffing woman, don’t you

agree?’

‘Oh, spiffing,’ she said, making him laugh. She adored him most particularly when he smiled.

‘You know,’ she sighed, ‘I had no idea life had become so

dreary until you arrived.’

‘Oh, but surely life can’t be dreary with Claudine

around,’ he protested. ‘Celine tells one she’s been on top

form ever since she arrived in France.’

Monique smiled, almost to herself. ‘Oui, elle a de la

presence?

Not too sure what that meant, but assuming it was a

compliment, Freddy nodded happily.

‘She’s made quite a change to our lives at Lorvoire,’

Monique went on. ‘We have all come to love her a great

deal, you know. Maman is missing her terribly, especially

now all the guests have gone. Still I’m sure she’s having a

simply marvellous time in Biarritz.’

She cast a quick look in Freddy’s direction, but so far,

pumping him about the morning Claudine and Francois

had returned to Lorvoire had produced no results - he’d

made it clear that he wasn’t prepared to say anything. For

her part, she didn’t for one minute believe that nonsense

about the maid, but no one else, not even Celine, had

confessed to finding the fleeting return unusual, so as yet

she had been unable to discover what lay behind it.

‘You’re very fond of Claudine, aren’t you, Freddy?’ she

said.

‘I’ll say,’ he answered. ‘Always have been. Used to hope that one day one might marry her, but of course she’s too old for one. I mean, that is to say, she couldn’t possibly be

interested in someone so young,’ he added hastily. ‘Not with

so many other chaps vying for her attention. That was

before she was married, of course. Sure it’ll be different

now. In love and all that, you know.’ It seemed nothing he

said was coming out quite right, so he decided to shut up.

‘Do you think she is in love with my brother?’ Monique

said, gazing nonchalantly out of the window as they crossed

the bridge at Chinon.

‘Oh, absolutely certain of it. Wouldn’t have married him

otherwise. Would she?’

‘Wouldn’t she?’

‘Grand chap, your brother,’ Freddy said, feeling his

colour begin to rise again.

‘I think so,’ she smiled. ‘I just hope Claudine does too.

And as for Francois, well, he obviously adores her. I mean,

the way he brought her back to Lorvoire the morning after