Read The India Fan Online

Authors: Victoria Holt

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Suspense

The India Fan (10 page)

BOOK: The India Fan
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Chateau Lamason was right in the heart of Dordogne country. We left the station and drove through what seemed like miles of beautiful country to reach it, past forest land, streams and fields.

And there was the chateau. I could hardly believe we were going to live in such a place. It was so impressive and so romantic. Close by were the forest and steep hills down which little waterfalls tumbled. The great stone chateau looked ancient and formidable with its pepper-pot towers at either end and its thick stone bastions.

I caught my breath in amazement. It was like stepping into another age. Miss Ellmore was clearly pleased by my obvious awe, and as we drove under an arch and into a courtyard she said, he chateau was owned by Madame family for hundreds of years. They lost a great deal during the Revolution, but this one was left alone, and she decided to turn it into a school for young ladies.

We alighted and were taken into a great hall where numbers of girls were assembling for the opening of the term. Many of them apparently knew each other well. There were several middle-aged ladies, rather like Miss Ellmore. They had an air of doing something not quite natural to them because they had come down in the world.

Mademoiselle Dubreau showed us the rooms that had been alloted to us. There were to be four in a room. Lavinia and I were to share with a French girl whose name was Francoise and a German girl, Gerda.

Miss Ellmore had said, ou two are together as you are friends, but Madame likes to mix nationalities. It is an excellent way of improving your understanding of languages.

Francoise was about seventeen and pretty. I saw Lavinia examining her with some intenseness, which almost immediately turned to complacency. The French girl might be pretty, but she could not compare with Lavinia flamboyant tawny beauty. The German girl, Gerda, was plump and had no pretensions to good looks.

wo plain, two purl,I commented inwardly and thought, as I often did: Il tell that to Polly.

We unpacked and chose our beds. Francoise was not a newcomer to the chateau so she was able to tell us a little about it.

adame,she said, s one fierce lady. The rules oh so many You wait and see. But we have our fun, yes? You understand?

I understood and translated for Lavinia. hat sort of fun?she wanted to know.

Francoise raised her eyes to the ceiling. h there is fun. In the town. It is near. We take coffee at the cafe. It is good.

Lavinia eyes sparkled and the German asked in stilted French what the food was like.

Francoise grimaced, which I suppose was not very flattering to the chef. Gerda was a little dismayed, so I guessed the reason for her somewhat full figure.

I quickly realized that life at the chateau would be far from dull. To be in such surroundings in itself was exciting to me. The chateau dated back to the fourteenth century and many of its old features remained. There were turrets, and winding spiral staircases which led to various dark passages. The hall had obviously once been the centre of life in the chateau, and though there was a huge fireplace, one could see where the original one had been, right in the centre of the hall, with a vent above to let out the smoke. There was even an oubliette, from which, it was said, strange noises could be heard at certain times from the ghosts of those who had been incarcerated there to be forgotten. But it was the people who attracted me most.

Madame du Clos reigned over the chateau like some medieval queen. As soon as I saw her I recognized her as one of those formidable women cast in the same mould as Lady Harriet and Miss Gentian. Known simply as Madame, she was by no means tall but she gave an impression of grandeur. Clad in black never saw her in any other colourer person glittered with jet, which hung from her ears and rose and fell over her impressive bosom. She had small hands and feet and sailed rather than walked, her voluminous skirts making a gentle swishing noise as she moved. Her small dark eyes darted everywhere, and she missed little, as we were to discover. Her dark hair, piled high on her head, was always immaculate; her nose was long and patrician; she bore a striking resemblance to many of the portraits which were in various parts of the chateau. They were undoubtedly members of the great family of du Clos, a certain branch of which had managed to survive the Revolution. Her grandfather, we were soon to discover, had been an intimate friend of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. They had lost their estatespart from this chateaun the debacle, but some of them had contrived to retain their heads. Madame had decided to turn the chateau into an exclusive finishing school, thereby bestowing a great privilege on those who were fortunate enough to gain admission to her establishment, and at the same time restoring her own fortunes sufficiently to enable her to live among the remains of her onetime glory.

On the first day we were all assembled in the great hall, where we were addressed by Madame and reminded of our great good fortune in being here. We should be instructed in the art of social grace; we should be ladies taught by ladies; and by the time we left Chateau Lamason we should be prepared to enter any society with ease. All doors would be open to us. Lamason was synonymous with good breeding. The greatest sin was vulgarity, and Madame du Clos would make aristocrats of us all.

The majority of the girls were French; next came the English, followed by Italian and German. We were to be given certain tuition which would enable us to make light conversation in French, English and Italian. Beside Madame on a dais sat three mistresses: Mademoiselle Le Brun, Signorina Lortoni and our own Miss Ellmore. They would lead the girls in appropriate conversation and, as they were all well bred, their speech would be that which was spoken in the highest circles of society. We were also instructed by Signor Paradetti, who taught us singing and the pianoforte, and Monsieur Dubois, the dancing master.

We learned a great deal from Francoise. She was eighteen years old, almost a year older than Lavinia. This was to be her last term and she was leaving to marry the man of her parent choice. He was thirty years older than Francoise and very rich. It was for this reason that the marriage had been arranged, and he was eager for it, for in spite of his money he was not of a noble family. Francoise explained that he would become ennobled, and her impoverished aristocratic family would benefit from his wealth.

Gerda said she thought it was a mercenary arrangement.

Francoise shrugged her shoulders. t makes sense,she said. e marries into a noble family; I marry into a wealthy one. I am tired of being poor. It is terrible. Always there is talk of money money for the roof damp coming in the bedrooms spoiling the Fragonard and the Boucher in the music room. Alphonse will change all that. I hope never to hear talk of money any more. I only want to spend it.

Francoise was philosophical and realistic. Gerda was different. I supposed there was plenty of money in the iron works and it seemed possible that she would be allied with another giant in industry.

It was interesting listening to it all. We used to talk at night. Those nights remain vividly in my memory lying there in the darkness with perhaps only the light of the stars to give our room with its high ceiling and panelled walls an eerie look. I remember the comfort of those four beds in each corner of the room and the knowledge that we were not alone.

I felt very much the odd one. They were all rich. What was the daughter of a country rector doing here? I knew the answer. I was here to look after Lavinia and I owed the experience to her waywardness. I had my duty to do. Yet when I saw her casting interested looks at Monsieur Dubois I wondered how I should be able to protect her from future follies. It was, of course, what I was here to do. I should never have been given the opportunity to be in this exalted place but for the fact that Lady Harriet had selected me for this purpose.

Francoise and Lavinia talked together quite a lot. They discussed men, a subject dear to the hearts of both. I would see them whispering together. I believed that Lavinia had told Francoise about her experiences with Jos. It was the reason why she had been sent away really, although of course she had first gone to Meridian House; but from there she had been expelled for going out with boys.

In the darkness of our dormitory Lavinia would tell of her adventures, stopping short at certain points and saying, o, I can go on not in front of Drusilla. She is too young yet.She did not mention Gerda, whose deep breathing and occasional snore indicated that she was asleep. It was her way of denigrating me.

Francoise told us all that several girls had grown rather romantic about Monsieur Dubois.

e really quite good looking,commented Francoise. ome of the girls are quite mad about him.

I was quite interested in Monsieur Duboisot that I felt that fascination which some of the girls seemed to. He was just a rather slight little Frenchman with very smooth dark hair and a jaunty mustachio. He wore very ornate waistcoats and a signet ring on his little finger, which he always looked at with affection when he beat time with his hands.

ne two three the lady turns four five six she faces her partner Come, ladies, that will not do. Ah, Gerda, you have the feet of lead.

Poor Gerda! She was not very good at it. Perhaps that was not very important, as the iron master might not be all that concerned with dancing. In Francoise case it was different. In the noble chateaux of France she would be expected to lead the dance.

Some of us had to take the part of men in the dance. Gerda was usually assigned to that role. She disliked the ritual in any case and lumbered round on reluctant feet.

Lavinia had always danced well and had done it with a sensuous abandonment. Monsieur Dubois was quick to notice this and when he was demonstrating he invariably chose Lavinia to partner him.

She would move close to him sinuously and meaningfully. I wondered whether in my role of guardian I should speak to her about it. She was showing too clearly how she felt about Monsieur Dubois.

He was quite tender to her, always implying that he liked her very much. But he was like that with all the girls. He had a way of letting his hand rest on one shoulders or even round one waist. Monsieur Dubois seemed to like all girls so much that it was difficult to know whether he liked any one in particular. But it did seem that he paid Lavinia just a little more attention.

Francoise said, e only comes to school to teach. I expect he got a wife and six children somewhere.

think he is very attractive,said Lavinia. e told me I was the most beautiful girl in the school.

e tells others that,said Francoise.

don believe it,retorted Lavinia. e looked really sincere.

on fall in love with him,warned Francoise. t is all on the top how you say it?

n the surface,I supplied. e doesn mean anything. He is just being polite to the girls who throw themselves at him.

Lavinia scowled at me.

But the affair did not progress, much to Lavinia chagrin and my relief.

Francoise was right when she said that Monsieur Dubois would be too much afraid of losing his job to take any of his little flirtations to a logical conclusion.

Because of the distance from home we were only to return once a year. At first the time went very slowly, but then it began to fly past.

I enjoyed the life; so did Lavinia. It was more or less up to ourselves to learn if we wanted too. I was very eager to improve my languages, so I soon became fluent in French and had quite a smattering of Italian. I enjoyed the dancing and singing lessons and I was doing quite well at the piano.

There was a good deal of freedom.

Sometimes in the afternoons we would go into the little town of Perradot. One of the mistresses would take us in the wagon, which would hold about twelve of us, and the wagon would be left in the square while we wandered round. It was a lovely little town with a river running through it, over which was a small but attractive bridge. There were shops, including a cafe where delicious cakes were sold, and in the hot weather we would sit under the gaily coloured sunshades and watch the people pass by. On Fridays there was a market in the square and so there was always a number who wanted to go on that day. One could buy clothes at the stalls, or shoes, sweets, cakes, eggs, vegetables and cheeses. The place always seemed to be permeated by the smell of hot crusty bread, which the boulanger used to rake out of his cave-like oven to sell to the waiting customers.

What we liked best was to go into the patisserie, choose our cake and then bring it out and sit at one of the little tables under the coloured sunshade, and drink a cup of coffee and watch the people go by.

We became acquainted with many of the tradespeople and market-stall holders and we were known throughout the town as les jeunes filles du chateau.

Life formed itself into patterns: language classes, which were more or less optional; dancing and music, which were essential, as were deportment and conversation. There was a the dansant once a week, at which Madame herself presided.

Time was passing. We had arrived at Lamason in September and it was not until the beginning of the following July that we returned to England for the summer holidays, escorted by Miss Ellmore. We were to return in September for another year and then we should be ready to take our place in the highest society.

I was rather shocked by the sight of my father. He looked rather wan and had aged more than a year warranted.

Mrs. Janson told me that he had been ailing during the winter, and there was talk of getting a curate to help him.

e had some funny turns,she said. haven liked the look of him at times.

I talked to my father. He assured me that all was well. I said that perhaps I should not go too far away, but he would not hear of that. He was pleased about the languages and music, but he thought some medieval French history might have been included in the curriculum.

Lady Harriet was delighted by the change she saw in Lavinia. I was sent for and took tea with her and Lavinia. Fabian was at home, but he did not join us. Lady Harriet asked me a number of questions about the school and she sat listening with obvious approval. I was glad, for I should have hated it if she had decided that we were not to return.

BOOK: The India Fan
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