The Silver Blade (24 page)
‘We went out of Paris through the catacombs. Yann took me all the way to Le Havre, and didn’t leave until he was certain I was safe,’ Auguste said. ‘Have you ever seen him perform on stage?’
‘Once, when I was younger. He was a magician’s assistant then. Have you?’
‘I was on stage at the Circus of Follies. I took the role of a market seller and Harlequin came on, upset the stall to a great deal of laughter, and then without touching anything - and I mean anything - he put each and every piece back on the stall. I was told to stay silent, whatever I did, but that if he asked a question I was to move my mouth. I did, and - this is the oddest part - out of it came words as if I were speaking, though I said nothing.’
Auguste de Reignac had gone home that evening full of fine food and wine, and in love with the most enchanting pair of blue eyes.
T
he day after the supper party Sido received a letter from Yann, and nothing could have prepared her for what he had to say. She opened it, disappointed to find only one sheet, and with so few words. Not suspecting anything to be wrong, she read:
he day after the supper party Sido received a letter from Yann, and nothing could have prepared her for what he had to say. She opened it, disappointed to find only one sheet, and with so few words. Not suspecting anything to be wrong, she read:
Dear Sido,Please forgive me for taking so long to write to you. What I have to tell you I say with a heavy heart.Sido, we can never be together. It is and always has been an impossible situation, a dream. It would take more than a revolution before a Marquis’s daughter and a gypsy would be allowed to marry. For that is my origin, as I am certain by now you will have been told.Please burn my letters. If you remember me at all I hope it will be with affection. We will never meet again, and I wish you all the happiness in the world. You deserve a better man than me.Once again I ask you to forgive me for any injury I may have caused you.Do not dwell on the past. Live for the future.Yann
Sido couldn’t breathe. She read the letter again, the room spinning, the world disintegrating under her feet. Could love just vanish? One day it was everything, the next gone, like a passing fever? Was that how love took men?
Her knees gave way and she crumpled to the floor. His words were stones in her heart.
Oh Lord, don’t let our love turn to ashes, don’t let it be an illusion. Yann is my rock, my strength, he gives meaning to my life. To him I’m not just a puppet made to dance for the delight of others. His love makes me whole, his love makes me free … his love … I thought he loved me.
How often have I dreamed of us living far away where no one would know our history, no one would judge us? Of Yann sitting with our children in front of the fire, telling them a fairy tale of how his magic saved their mama from the wicked Count Kalliovski, how he smuggled her out of a gated city. We would have grown old together …
Like the broken banks of a river in flood, she felt her soul swept away by grief. She sat hunched on the floor, her arms wrapped round her body, rocking with pain. She could hear voices downstairs, the clocks in the hall ticking, outside a street seller shouting his wares, and another sound, the echo of unbearable loneliness that stretched before her for all eternity.
Her trembling hands took the talisman from around her neck, leaving her naked, bereft. Now there was nothing to protect her. She wrote:
It is returned safely to you but you still have my heart and my soul.
T
hat afternoon, Sido went to see Mr Trippen, taking her letter with her. From the drawing-room window Juliette watched her get into a sedan chair and vaguely noticed a man in a three-cornered hat setting off after it.
hat afternoon, Sido went to see Mr Trippen, taking her letter with her. From the drawing-room window Juliette watched her get into a sedan chair and vaguely noticed a man in a three-cornered hat setting off after it.
Juliette had for weeks tried to persuade Henry that Sido’s English lessons with Mr Trippen should stop and that he couldn’t be trusted, not after his irresponsible behaviour regarding the letters.
‘Fiddlesticks,’ Henry had said. ‘A load of tosh, and, my dear, you know it. It does the girl good to have a change of scenery, and her English is much improved. The lessons will continue.’
‘And the letters?’ Juliette had added.
‘Leave that to me.’
Henry had said nothing to Mr Trippen on the matter, and the letters had gone back and forth between the two lovers without any more interruption.
N
ow Mr Trippen stood by the empty fireplace in his battered housecoat and red hat with a tassel, and read the letter Sido had shown him.
ow Mr Trippen stood by the empty fireplace in his battered housecoat and red hat with a tassel, and read the letter Sido had shown him.
‘I don’t know what to do,’ she said.
‘My dear, enchanting lady,’ said Mr Trippen, ‘tell me you have done nothing reckless. The seas of emotion can so capsize young love.’
‘I want to send back the talisman, you know, the shell Yann gave me. I have wrapped it up and—’
‘I think that is most unwise,’ said Mr Trippen.
Sido knew it was, but if Yann loved her no more then in all truth she couldn’t wear it. Tears threatened to overcome her. She said, as lightly as her voice would allow, ‘That’s because you are an old sentimentalist.’
‘No, it is because it is a very important talisman. As to this letter, Hamlet’s lines do not ring true. He has not stopped loving you, and the fact he is a gypsy would never have deterred either of you from being together. Or would it?’ he said, looking at Sido’s pale face.
‘No.’
‘Trippen smells something rotten in the state of Denmark and you, my dear, are to be no Ophelia. That way madness lies. In my humble but well-considered opinion something dark is troubling our Hamlet. The question, and the question is always king, my dear, is what is it that he is not saying?’
S
ido’s thoughts that rainy day were in turmoil as the sedan chair took her back to Queen Square. How, she wondered, shall I cope with a broken heart? How shall I manage when my soul is dying? All Sido wanted to do was lie in a corner, curled up like a cat, and let time roll over her, instead of which she had to find the strength to hide her feelings.
ido’s thoughts that rainy day were in turmoil as the sedan chair took her back to Queen Square. How, she wondered, shall I cope with a broken heart? How shall I manage when my soul is dying? All Sido wanted to do was lie in a corner, curled up like a cat, and let time roll over her, instead of which she had to find the strength to hide her feelings.
What could she do now? All she possessed was a title. She had no money, and she couldn’t go on living with her aunt and uncle indefinitely. Perhaps she could be a governess? Oh, dear God, there were already enough French women of noble birth in her position, who were now obliged to earn their livings. The newspapers were filled with advertisements.
Or she could marry. She knew that if she wasn’t betrothed by the end of this season her aunt would be bitterly disappointed. Juliette was certain that Auguste would soon ask for her hand in marriage. Could she do that? Marry a man she didn’t love, for grand carriages and pretty dresses, for security against poverty? Many a young woman would tell her she was greatly privileged to have the chance. For Auguste was gentle, kind - and not elderly. Still, without love, it made everything a folly. She would never make him happy, and she knew she would never love him as she loved Yann.
That evening at supper she listened to her aunt discourse endlessly on the merits of marriage and the finer details of the Viscomte de Reignac’s fortune. Sido noticed that Henry, like her, was silent on the matter.
The next day Auguste came on the pretext of bringing Sido a book by Burke,
Reflections on the Revolution in France
.
Reflections on the Revolution in France
.
‘I thought you would be interested in it,’ he said, as they sat in the drawing room.
‘We are planning a picnic on Hampstead Heath for the day after tomorrow if the weather holds,’ Juliette said. ‘We would be delighted to have your company.’
‘Alas, madame, I cannot. I am leaving London.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘To America.’
‘But that is so far away.’
f’I agree, but I own land in Boston and need to see that my interests are secure. I can assure you I shall be back here soon. In fact, nothing would keep me away.’
Sido felt a rising sense of panic as she saw her aunt get up to leave.
‘Where are you going, aunt?’ she said, a little too urgently.
‘I am sure, my dear, that you two have quite enough to talk about without my company. Viscount, shall I order some tea for you?’
A
lone in the drawing room with the ticking clocks, Sido, terrified that Auguste was going to propose, said quickly, ‘Don’t, we are such good friends, and …’
lone in the drawing room with the ticking clocks, Sido, terrified that Auguste was going to propose, said quickly, ‘Don’t, we are such good friends, and …’
‘I - I insist,’ he stammered. ‘I know you don’t love me, but I am in love with you and I want you to be my wife. It would be enough just to have you with me.’
‘No - oh, you deserve so much more than that. You must find love.’
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