Zipporah's Daughter (Knave of Hearts) (32 page)

I hesitated. ‘I know that you would marry me, but I would never be first in your life, would I? There would always be other things … like Eversleigh. Property, possessions which mean power, I suppose. Yes, that would come first with you, Dickon, always.’

‘If I could convince you that nothing else mattered to me, would you alter your determination to stand out against me?’

‘I would never believe it.’

‘There will come a day when I shall convince you.’

He caught me to him and kissed me wildly, passionately, over and over again. I wanted to cling to him, to tell him that I was ready to accept what he could give me, and if it were not all that I wanted, I would take what I could get. I tried to remind myself that I was a widow who had been long without a husband; and I was a woman who needed the love of a man. I had loved Charles in a way; I had missed him sorely; but I knew that what I felt for Dickon went deeper than that. It had its roots in the past when I had been a young idealistic girl, innocent and unworldly, dreaming of perfection. I drew away from him.

‘That will not convince me,’ I said.

‘When I hold you in my arms, when I kiss you, I know that you love me. It is something you cannot hide.’

‘I won’t deny that I could deceive myself, but I won’t, Dickon. I will have everything or nothing. Besides, as I have told you I would never leave my father.’

He sighed and leaned over the parapet.

‘How quietly beautiful it is—the château land. The moonlight makes the river shine like silver where it catches it. Château land …rich land … all the wood of the forest and the farmlands. The Comte must be very proud of his possessions.’

‘He is. They have been his family’s for generations.’

And to think they will go to that fool Armand! He has no notion of how to manage an estate of this size.’

‘There are people to do it for him as you have at Eversleigh when you make your mysterious jaunts to the continent.’

‘Still … a pity. But for him it might come to you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, you are his daughter and he is very proud of the fact.’

‘Armand is very much alive. And in any case Sophie would come before me.’

‘Sophie! I wouldn’t gamble on that. You are the apple of his eye. I am sure he will want to see you well provided for.’

‘Dickon!’ I cried.

‘Well?’ He smiled at me lazily.

I said: ‘Are you calculating again?’

‘I always calculate.’

‘And you think that my father will make me a rich woman. Oh, now I see why you are so ardent.’

‘I should be ardent if you were a pauper.’

‘But perhaps not for marriage.’

‘If you were a peasant in the field I should still yearn for you.’

‘I know that you have yearned for many women and some of them doubtless of humble station. It is getting cold. I want to go in.’

‘Not until you have listened to me. Why are you so suddenly incensed?’

‘Because for a moment I forgot what you are like. You want to marry me because you have somehow discovered that my father is leaving me something, and although you won Eversleigh and Clavering … and heaven knows what from your wife … you are still looking for more.’

‘You get so angry, Lottie. What a temper you have!’

‘Good night, Dickon. I am going in.’

He took my hand and pulled me towards him. ‘We should not part on bad terms.’

I repeated wearily: ‘Good night.’

Then he held me against him once more and in spite of the fact that I had followed the trend of his thoughts, I was moved to respond to his embrace. He was dangerous. He could catch me unaware.

I wrenched myself free.

‘You have misunderstood,’ he said.

‘No. I understand perfectly. You are following your custom of courting rich women. Well, my father is not dead yet and I pray it will be a long time before he is, but you may be sure that what he leaves me is not going to be added to what you have accumulated through your matrimonial manoeuvrings.’

‘Lottie, I have told you that if you were a peasant gleaning in the field … ’

‘You would want to make love to me, yes. I understand you perfectly, Dickon. And as you believe me to be an heiress you would like to marry me. Once more … Good night.’

I ran off, and I was rather surprised that he did not attempt to follow me.

In my room I lay in my bed staring up at the ceiling.

‘Go away, Dickon,’ I murmured. ‘Leave me alone.’

I mistrusted him and yet I longed for him. He was becoming very dangerous and I should have to be wary.

I spent a disturbed night thinking about Dickon, trying all the time to make myself see him as he really was, and to upbraid myself for wanting him in spite of what I knew.

He, too, might have been disturbed by our conversation of the previous night because he went off during the morning on horseback on what I began to think of as his secret missions.

I walked round the gardens with my father in the morning and he told me that Léon Blanchard had taken the boys on a ramble. They were learning something about forestry and botany and finding it very interesting.

‘They will be looking for specimens of various plants,’ said my father. ‘It is good for them to learn these things. Blanchard seems to have some knowledge on every subject.’

I said: ‘Dickon is very concerned about the position here.’

‘Ah yes. Who is not?’

‘He thinks it is getting more dangerous.’

My father smiled. ‘He would like you to return to England with him.’

I was silent.

He insisted: ‘That is what he wants, is it not?’

‘He has suggested it.’

‘And you, Lottie?’

‘I am going to stay here, of course.’

‘Is that what you want?’

‘Yes,’ I said determinedly.

‘He interests me, that man. I have never ceased to be grateful to him, you know. It was due to him that I found you and your mother. If your mother had not been so much afraid of him she would never have written to me and I should never have known of your existence. My feelings towards him are mixed. Your mother always disliked him and was a little afraid of him, I think. But I have to say that I have strong admiration for him. In spite of everything he might well be the man for you, Lottie.’

‘I should have to think a great deal about that!’

‘
I
have been thinking. You are too young to spend your life here like this. You should marry. You should have more children.’

‘Do you want to be rid of me?’

‘Heaven forbid! What I want is your happiness and if that takes you away from me, then … so be it.’

‘I should never be happy away from you.’

‘God bless you, Lottie,’ he said emotionally. ‘Bless you for the happiness you have brought into my life. I want you to promise me that if you should long to go with him—or to anyone—you will not let any feeling of duty, or whatever you feel towards me, stand in your way. I am old; you are young. Your life is before you. Mine is finished. Remember, that more than anything I want your happiness.’

‘And do you know,’ I said, ‘I want yours.’

He walked away from me for a moment. Then he said: ‘All will be well. This kingdom has stood firm in all the troubles which have beset it through the centuries. France will always be France. There has to be a future for our children. I won’t deny the fact that I want Charlot to inherit Aubigné. Of course, if by any chance Armand has children it would have to go to them first … but that is hardly likely. After Armand, it must be Charlot. I have drawn this up with the lawyers.’

‘I hate all this talk of wills,’ I said. ‘I want everything to stay as it is now. You have years ahead of you yet.’

‘Let us wait and see,’ he said.

At midday Léon Blanchard and the boys came back with their specimens which they had found in the woods and the countryside. My father was very amused by the conversation at the table, which was all about the amazing things which could be found in the forest and the meadows. They were going to spend the afternoon listing their specimens. On the days when Léon Blanchard was with them, they usually worked mornings and afternoons to make up for those days when he was with his other pupils—though he always left them work to do in his absence.

Dickon came back late in the afternoon. I saw him arrive and I watched while he left the stables and sauntered into the castle.

I was still thinking of him as I dressed for dinner.

Sophie was there. She was talking to Léon Blanchard when I came in; she was flushed and smiling, almost sparkling, as she did in his company. I decided to ask my father whether he would consider a match between them. I was sure he would give his approval for he was very impressed by Léon Blanchard, and as Lisette had said, he would be very relieved to find a husband for Sophie.

Armand had not appeared and my father asked Marie Louise if he were coming down. Marie Louise looked surprise as though it was remarkable that she should be asked about her husband’s whereabouts. She had no idea, she said. So my father sent up one of the servants to find out.

The servant came down with the news that the Vicomte was not in his rooms. His valet said that he had laid out his clothes, for he was expecting him back, but he had not returned.

No one was very surprised for Armand was never very precise in his movements. He had been known to go hunting and not come back until morning. Now that he was enthusiastic about his Band, he sometimes stayed a night with one of the members if he had what he called business to do.

So the meal progressed as usual and Léon Blanchard talked about the boys’ enthusiasm for botany and said he thought that it was an excellent subject for them to pursue. Sophie listened intently to him when he spoke. The change in her was growing more and more noticeable every day and I intended to speak to my father at the first opportunity.

Dickon was unusually quiet and after the meal he did not suggest we take a walk through the castle grounds or round the parapet.

I slept well that night to make up for the previous one and the next morning, when I was alone with my father, I broached the subject of Sophie and Léon Blanchard. We were sitting on the grass overlooking the moat when I said to him: ‘What a difference there is in Sophie nowadays.’

‘It is remarkable,’ he agreed.

‘You know why. She is in love.’

‘Yes … Léon Blanchard.’

‘Suppose he offered to marry her?’

My father was silent.

‘You have a high opinion of him,’ I said.

‘I would never have thought a tutor a suitable husband for my daughter.’

‘In the circumstances … ’

‘I agree, the circumstances make a difference.’

‘You could not wish for a more cultured man. He is connected with the Duc de Soissonson, I believe.’

‘Very remotely, apparently.’

I turned round. Sophie was standing very near to us. I flushed scarlet because it was Sophie.

‘Sophie,’ I cried scrambling up.

‘I was taking a walk,’ she said.

‘It’s a lovely day.’

Our father said: ‘Good morning, Sophie.’

She returned the greeting and started to walk away.

‘Won’t you … ’ I began, but she walked on.

I sat down again. ‘How strange that she should appear like that. So quietly … ’

‘We wouldn’t have heard the footsteps on the grass.’

‘I hope she didn’t hear that we were discussing her.’

‘She should have made herself known before.’

‘I think she was trying to escape notice altogether.’

‘We were saying that she has changed, but she doesn’t seem quite to have got over that ridiculous recluse attitude.’

‘Only when Léon Blanchard is there. If the matter were raised you would not withhold your consent, would you?’

‘I should be as pleased as you to see Sophie happily settled.’

‘I am so glad.’

Then we talked of other things.

When Armand did not appear at dinner that night we began to be uneasy. My father said if he was not back on the next day he would send a man to some of Armand’s friends to see if they had news of him.

It was rather an uneasy meal for we were all wondering about Armand. Léon Blanchard said he was sure he was with one of his friends because there had been a meeting on the day Armand had left the château. He himself had been too involved in the boys’ lessons to leave the château during the whole day, and from the first he had made it clear to Armand that his post with the boys came first with him.

The following day we heard the disquieting news that Armand had not arrived at the meeting which had taken place at the house of one of his friends. They could not understand why he did not come, as he had definitely arranged to be with them and had sent no message to say he could not come or why he had failed to turn up.

Now we were really alarmed.

‘There must have been an accident,’ said the Comte and began questioning the servants. Armand had left on horseback in the early afternoon, the groom told us, and he seemed in excellent spirits. He had gone alone.

There was no news of him all that day. Dickon went out with the men, scouring the countryside but it was the following day before anything was discovered. It was Dickon who found Armand’s horse. It was tethered to a bush close to the river. The animal was in a state of panic, not having been fed for so long; and by the river bank was a feathered hat which we identified as Armand’s.

The river was deep and fairly wide at that point but Armand was a strong swimmer. It seemed possible, however, that there had been some accident and the Comte ordered that the river be dragged. This was done but nothing came to light. We tried to conjecture what could have happened.

The Comte thought that Armand might have been near the river when he slipped, was knocked unconscious and fell into the water. It was swift-flowing and could have carried his body away and eventually reached the sea.

Dickon said: ‘This looks like foul play. He was on one of his Band excursions. Is it possible that this was known? Indeed, it is impossible that it was not known. All the Band seemed to do was talk, and there must have been many who were against such an organization.’