King of the Castle (18 page)

Very few. Most take them because, having been brought up to do nothing, they suddenly find themselves in a position where they have to do something. It is not a good motive for undertaking this most important occupation. In your profession it is necessary to have a gift. You are an artist. “

“Oh, no … I would not claim …”

“An artist manquee,” he finished and I sensed his mockery.

“Perhaps,” I said coolly.

“You see how different from these poor dejected ladies who come to teach our children! I have decided to send my daughter to school. You were gracious enough to offer an opinion as to her well-being. Please give me that candid opinion on this.”

“I think it could be an excellent idea, but it would depend on the school.”

He waved his hand.

“This is no place for a highly-strung child. Do you agree? It is for antiquarians, those whose passion is architecture, paintings … and those who are imbued with the old traditions antiquated too, you might say.”

He had read my thoughts. He knew that I saw him as the autocrat, the upholder of the divine right of the nobility. He was telling me so.

I said: “I suppose you are right.”

“I know I am. I have chosen a school in England for Genevieve.”

“Oh!”

“You seem surprised. Surely you believe that the best schools are in England?”

Here was mockery again and I said rather too warmly:

“That could be possible.”

“Exactly. There she would not only learn to speak the language but to acquire that excellent sang-fro id with which you, mademoiselle, are so lavishly endowed.”

“Thank you. But she would be far from her home.”

“A home in which, as you pointed out to me, she is not particularly happy.”

“But she could be. She is capable of great affection.”

He changed the subject.

“You work during the mornings in the gallery, but not in the afternoons. I’m glad that you are making use of the stables.”

I thought: He has been watching me. He knows how I spend my time. I

believe I knew what was coming. He was going to send me away as he had Mademoiselle Dubois. My impertinence was as distasteful to him as her imcompetence.

I wondered whether he had submitted her to an inter view like this. He was a man who liked to hunt his prey before the kill. I remembered that thought occurring to me once before in this library.

“Monsieur Ie Comte,” I said, ‘if you are not satisfied with the work I have done, please tell me. I will prepare to leave at once. “

“Mademoiselle Lawson, you are very hasty. I am pleased to discover at least this flaw in you, because it prevents you from being perfect.

Perfection is so dull. I did not say I was displeased with your work.

In fact I find your work excellent. Some time I shall come to you in the gallery and ask you to show me how you get such excellent results.

Let me tell you what I have in mind. If my daughter is to go to England she must have a good knowledge of the language. I do not propose that she shall go immediately. Perhaps not for another year.

In the meantime she will take lessons from the cure. He will be at least as good as the governess who has just left us. Indeed he must be, for he couldn’t be worse. But it is her English about which I am most concerned. Until the spring you will be in the gallery only during the mornings. That leaves you some free time. I was wondering whether you would undertake to teach Genevieve English when you are not engaged on the pictures. I am sure she would profit greatly from such an arrangement. “

I was so overcome by my emotion that I could not speak.

He went on quickly: “I do not mean that you would confine yourself to a schoolroom, but that you and she should ride together … walk together…. She knows the fundamentals of grammar. At least I hope

so. It is practice in conversation that she needs, and of course to acquire a reasonably good accent. You understand what I mean?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“You would of course be reimbursed. That is a matter which you could discuss with my steward. Now what do you say?”

“I… I accept with pleasure.”

“That is excellent.” He stood up and was holding out his hand. I put mine in his. He gripped it firmly and shook it.

I was so happy. The thought occurred to me that I had rarely been as happy in my life.

It was a week later when, entering my bedroom, I found a large cardboard box on my bed. I thought there had been a mistake until I saw my name on it; and at the foot of the label was an address in Paris.

I opened the box.

Green velvet in a rich jewel colour. Emerald green velvet! I took it out of the box. It was an evening gown, simply cut, but exquisite.

Certainly there must be some mistake. All the same I held it against me and went to the mirror. My shining eyes reflected the colour so that they seemed to match the velvet. It was beautiful. Why had it come to me?

I laid it reverently on my bed and examined the box. There I found a parcel wrapped in tissue paper and when I unrolled this, there was my old black velvet. I understood, before I read the card which fell out.

I saw the crest which I had begun to know well and on the card was written: “I trust this will replace the one which was spoilt. If it is not what you need, we must try again. Lothair de la Talle.”

I went to the bed; I picked up the dress; I had it against me; I hugged it. In fact I behaved like a foolish girl. And all the time my other self, the one I was always trying to be, was saying: Ridiculous!

You can’t accept it. And the real Me, the one who only appeared now and then but i43

was there all the time lying in wait to betray me, was saying: It’s the most beautiful dress. Every time you put it on you will feel excited. Why, in such a dress you could be an attractive woman.

Then I laid the dress on the bed and said: “I shall go to him at once and tell him that I cannot dream of accepting it.”

I tried to compose my features into a severe mould, but I kept thinking of his coming into my room or sending someone to find the ruined black velvet, sending it to Paris with the order: “Make a gown to these measurements. Make the finest gown you have ever made.”

How stupid I was! What was happening to me?

I had better see him so that the dress could be sent back to Paris without delay.

I went down to the library. Perhaps he was expecting me, for he might be aware that the dress had arrived. As if he would care when the dress arrived. He had merely decided it should be given to me as recompense and then forgotten all about it.

He was there.

“I must speak with you,” I said, and as always, because I was embarrassed, I sounded arrogant. He noticed it, for a smile briefly touched his lips and the amused glint leaped into his eyes.

“Please sit down. Mademoiselle Lawson. You are agitated.”

I was immediately at a disadvantage because the last thing I wanted was to betray my feelings, which I did not entirely understand myself.

It was unlike me to be so excited about clothes.

“By no means,” I said.

“I have merely come to thank you for sending me the dress to replace mine and to tell you that I cannot accept it.”

“So it has arrived. Does it not fit, then?”

“I… cannot say. I have not tried it. There was no need for you to send for it.”

“Forgive my disagreement, but in my opinion there was every need.”

“But no. It was a very old dress. I had had it for years, and this one is er …”

“I see that you do not like it.”

“That is not the point at issue.” Again the severity in my voice made him smile.

“Really? What is the point at issue?”

“That I cannot dream of accepting the dress.”

“Why not?”

“Because it is not necessary.”

“Now come, Mademoiselle Lawson, be frank and say that you consider accepting a … garment from me is improper if that is what you mean.”

“I think no such thing. Why should I?”

Again he made that entirely French gesture which implied anything one wished it to.

“I do not know. I do not imagine for one moment that I could understand what goes on in your mind. I was merely trying to find some reason why having had an article ruined in this house you could not accept a replacement.”

“This is a dress.”

“Why should a dress be different from any other object?”

“This is purely a personal thing.”

“Ah! Purely personal! If I had destroyed one of your solutions would you not have allowed me to replace it? Or is it really because this is a dress … something you would wear … something intimate, shall we say?”

I could not look at him; there was a warmth in his expression which disturbed me.

I turned away from his gaze and said: “There was no need for the gown to be replaced. In any case the green velvet is far more valuable than the one for which it was meant to compensate me.”

“Value is difficult to assess. The black dress was clearly more valuable to you, since you were distressed to have lost it and are reluctant to accept this one.”

“I think you wilfully misunderstand.”

He came to me swiftly and laid a hand on my shoulder.

“Mademoiselle Lawson,” he said gently, ‘it will displease me if you refuse to accept this dress. Your own was destroyed by a member of my family and I wish to replace it. Will you please accept it? “

“Since you put it that way …”

His hand fell from my shoulder but he was still standing close. I felt uneasy yet indescribably happy.

“Then you will. You are very generous. Mademoiselle Lawson.”

“It is you who are generous. There was no need …”

“I repeat there was every need.”

‘. to replace it so extravagantly,” I finished.

He laughed suddenly and I realized I had never heard him laugh like that before. There was no bitterness, no mockery.

“I hope,” he said, ‘that one day I shall be allowed to see you wearing it. “

“I have very few occasions for wearing such a dress.”

“But since it is such an extravagant dress perhaps those occasions should be created.”

“I do not see how that can be,” I replied, my voice growing colder as my hidden emotions grew greater.

“I can only say it was unnecessary, but good of you. I will accept the dress and thank you for your generosity.”

I moved to the door but he was there before me, opening it, inclining his head so that I could not see his expression.

As I went up to my room my emotions were overwhelming If I had been wise I should have analysed them. I should have been wise, but of course I wasn’t.

Five

My interest in the Comte and his affairs added such a zest to my life that each morning I would awaken with a feeling of expectation, telling myself that this very day might be the one when I would learn something new, begin to understand him more, and perhaps find the clue which would tell me whether he was a murderer or a much-maligned man.

Then, without warning, he went to Paris, and I heard that he would return just before Christmas when there would be guests at the chateau. I shall find myself on the edge of affairs, I thought, looking in from outside.

I took on my new duties with enthusiasm and I was rather pleased to find that Genevieve by no means resented me but was in fact eager to learn English. The prospect of going to school was a terrifying one, but it was too far in the future to be a real menace. She would ask me questions about England when we went for our rides and we even found some amusement in our English conversations. She was taking lessons with the cure, and although none shared her lessons, she often saw the Bastide children on their way to the cure’s house and I believed it was good for her to mix with the other children.

One morning while I was in the gallery Philippe came in. When the Comte was not at the castle he seemed to take on a new stature. Now he looked like a pale shadow of his cousin, but having been made more and more aware of the Comte’s virility, I was struck afresh by the weakness almost effeminacy of Philippe.

But his smile was very friendly as he asked how the work was progressing.

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“You are skilful,” he commented when I showed him.

“It is care that is needed as much as skill.”

“And expert knowledge.” He was standing before the picture I had restored.

“One has the feeling that one could put out a hand and touch those emeralds,” he said.

“The skill of the painter, not the restorer.”

He continued to gaze wistfully at the picture and once more I sensed his deep love for the chateau and everything connected with it. That was how I should feel were I a member of such a family.

Turning suddenly and catching my eyes on him, he looked faintly embarrassed as though he were wondering whether he should say what was in his mind. Then he said quickly: “Mademoiselle Lawson, are you happy here?”

“Happy? I find the work very satisfying.”

“The work, yes. I know how you feel about that. I was thinking of.. ” He made a gesture with his hand.

‘. the atmosphere here . the family. ” I looked surprised and he went on: ” There was that unfortunate affair of the dress. “

“It is all forgotten now.” I wondered whether my face betrayed my pleasure as I thought of the green dress.

“In a household like this one …” He stopped as though he did not know how to go on.

“If you found it intolerable here …” he went on hurriedly, ‘if you wished to leave . “

To leave! “

“I meant if it became difficult. My cousin might… er …” He abandoned what he had been going to say, but I knew he was thinking, as I was, of the green velvet dress and the fact that the Comte had given it to me. He saw something significant in that. But it was evidently too dangerous to discuss. How he feared his cousin! He smiled brightly.

“A friend of mine has a fine collection of pictures and some are in need of restoration. They could keep you busy for a long time, I have no doubt.”

“It will be a long time before I finish here.”