“But the Normans were fighters, Mademoiselle Collison. They were the unvanquished. And Centeville Castle was here at the time our great William the Duke conquered you English and forced you to submit to Norman rule.”
“The Normans won on that occasion,” I said, ‘because King Harold had just come down to the south after winning a victory in the north. If he had been fresh for the fight, the victory might have gone the other way. Moreover, you say you defeated the English. The English of today are a mixed race. Angles, Saxons, Jutes, Romans . and yes, even glorious Normans. So it seems to me a little misplaced to crow over the victory of William all those years ago. “
“You see how Mademoiselle Collison corrects me, Nicole.”
“I am delighted that she puts forward such a good case against you, Rollo.”
Rollo! I thought. So that is his name. I must have shown my surprise for he went on: “Yes, I am Rollo. Named after the first Norman to turn this corner of France into Normandy. His battle cry was ” Ha! Rollo! ”
And it continued to be the Norman battle cry for centuries. “
“It is no longer in use, I trust.”
I could not understand this impulse in me to attack him at every turn.
It was most unwise since we had to try to please him; and here I was antagonizing him before we began.
But he did not look displeased. He was actually smiling, and it occurred to me that he was enjoying the conversation. I was being as unpleasant as I could without being rude. How strange that he-who was used to sycophants-should not object. It must be because it was so rarely that anyone stood out against him.
But Nicole was by no means a sycophant. Perhaps that was why he liked her as he obviously did.
Bertrand had returned.
He said to me: “Perhaps you would like to take a walk in the grounds before retiring for the night?”
I rose with alacrity.
“That would be delightful,” I said.
“You need a wrap. Shall I go and get one?”
“Take mine,” said Nicole.
“It will save a journey up to your room. I don’t need it.”
She handed me a scrap of chiffon which seemed to take its colour from whatever it covered. It was decorated with a border of sequinned stars.
“Oh.. thank you,” I said. “It looks too… pretty. I should be afraid to harm it.”
“Nonsense,” said Nicole coming to me, and herself put it round my shoulders. I thought she was very charming.
Bertrand and I went out through the courtyard to the moat.
“Well, what did you think of the Baron?” he asked.
“It’s rather too big a question to answer briefly,” I said.
“It’s like confronting someone with the Niagara Fails and asking for an immediate opinion.”
“He would be amused to hear himself compared with them.”
“I would say he is very conscious of his power and wants everyone else to be too.”
“Yes,” agreed Bertrand.
“He likes us to recognize that and to do exactly as he wants us to.”
“Which is all right as long as it coincides with what one wants oneself.”
“You are perceptive, Mademoiselle. That is exactly how it has been for me so far.”
“Then,” I said, ‘you must be prepared for the day when it is not. I thought Madame St. Giles charming. “
“She is considered to be one of the most attractive women in society.
Her association with Rollo has lasted for several years. “
“Her… association!”
“Oh! Did you not guess? She is his mistress.”
“But,” I began faintly, “I thought he was going to be married to this Princesse.”
“He is. I suppose it will have to end with Nicole then … or perhaps there will be just a lull. She’s prepared for that. She’s a woman of the world.”
I was silent.
He laid his hand on my arm.
“I’m afraid you are rather shocked. Did you not know that there was this relationship?”
“I’m afraid I’m rather unworldly. Nicole … she doesn’t seem to be upset.”
“Oh no. She always understood that there would come a time when he would marry. He has several mistresses, but Nicole was always the chief.”
I shivered beneath Nicole’s wrap. His hands would have been on that chiffon, I thought. I pictured him with Nicole . sensuous . cynical . It was a horrible picture. I did not want to paint that miniature. I realized that one could learn too much about a subject.
The next morning our ordeal began. I arranged a chair for the Baron where the strong light fell on his face. My father sat opposite him.
We had decided that the support should be ivory which had proved to be ideal since the beginning of the eighteenth century. I sat in a corner watching. I was memorizing every line of his face: the sensuous lips which could be cruel, the rather magnificent high brow and the strong blonde hair springing from his head.
He had told us that the completed miniature would be set in gold and the frame should be studded with diamonds and sapphires. For that reason he wore a blue coat and it certainly accentuated his colouring; it even put a hint of blue into the grey eyes.
My fingers itched to hold the brush. I was deeply aware of my father. He worked quietly and without apparent tension. I wondered whether he was aware of how much he could not see.
This morning would tell us a great deal whether it was possible to carry out this plan or not. I was not sure what sort of miniature I could do from memory or from my father’s work. I was sure I could have made a superb portrait if I could have gone about it in the normal way. I would bring out his arrogance. I would capture that look which suggested that the whole world was his. I would paint in a little of the animosity I felt towards him. I would make a portrait which was absolutely him . and he might not like it.
He talked while my father worked and mainly to me.
Had I been to the Bavarian Court with my father? I told him I had not.
He raised his eyebrows as though asking:
Why not, since you came to Normandy?
“Then you did not see the picture of the Grafin and her inner beauty?”
“I very much regret not having seen it.”
“I feel I have met you before. It must be in the miniature of the Unknown Woman. I suddenly feel she is unknown no longer.”
“I look forward to seeing it.”
“And I to showing it to you. How is it going, Monsieur Collison? Am I a good sitter? I look forward to seeing the work as it progresses.”
“It is going well,” said my father.
“And,” I added, ‘we make a rule that no one sees a miniature before it is finished. “
“I don’t know if I shall agree to that rule.”
“I am afraid it is necessary. You must give a painter a free hand to do what he wishes. To have your criticism now would be disastrous.”
“What if it were praise?”
“That, too, would be unwise.”
“Do you always allow your daughter to lay down the rules, Monsieur Collison?”
“It is my rule,” said my father.
He told me then about certain paintings he possessed not all miniatures by any means.
“How I shall enjoy gloating over my treasures to you, Mademoiselle Collison,” he added.
After an hour my father laid down his brush. He had done enough for the morning, he said. Moreover, he guessed the Baron must be tired of sitting.
The Baron rose and stretched himself, confessing that it was unusual for him to sit so long at one time.
“How many sittings shall you need?” he asked.
“I cannot say as yet,” replied my father.
“Well, I must insist that Mademoiselle Collison remains with us so that she may divert me,” he said.