He was silent for a while. Then he said: “Kate … if we could go back to that time when we were together .. do you know what I would do? I would marry you.”
I laughed, but I was inwardly pleased, though I would not let him know it if I could help it.
“How?” I said.
“You can’t exactly force a woman to take marriage vows.
It isn’t as easy as rape, you know. That’s just a matter of physical strength. “
“You would have agreed.”
“I should never have agreed.”
“I sometimes think of it. In fact, lying here, I’ve thought of it a great deal. Married to Kate! That boy acknowledged as my son! We’d have others too, Kate. I see what I ought to have done.”
“They would not have had the blue blood which you were after.”
“They would have been part of you … and part of me. That’s what I dream of. That’s what I want more than anything in the world.” I stood up and he went on: “What do you say? Where are you going?”
I said: “It is time to dress your leg and I am going to get the dressing.”
He looked at me with his head on one side. He was laughing at me, but somehow I knew that he had meant what he had said I felt suddenly very nappy.
The winter was on us and it seemed particularly severe. We had plenty of wood to make a fire but we watched it carefully, rationing ourselves every day. The cold was more bearable than the lack of food.
We were able to wrap ourselves in fur rugs and bed coverings and we all huddled together in that room in which the Baron lay. He needed to rest his leg a good deal. It was impossible to get medical attention.
I did not see the doctor now. He had ceased to come and I wondered what had happened to him.
There was rioting occasionally in the streets and I did not go out.
The Baron begged me not to and I did not want to icave Kendal nor take him with me. I was terrified of what might happen to him.
He was a wonderfully intelligent child and he understood that we were besieged and what that meant. The Baron had explained to him. The boy would sit on the bed and listen not only to an explanation of the present situation but to tales of the past glories of marauding Norsemen. He loved such stories and would eagerly ask questions, and when some of the stories were repeated-for he often asked for them again and again-if there was a divergence from the first version, he would immediately point it out. They were very happy together, those two.
Later when I heard what was happening in the city I realized how fortunate we were. Jeanne was a wonderful asset to the household. She would go out occasionally and sometimes come back with a little food . some potatoes or other vegetables . some wine . We still had some flour left. How I had reason to bless Nicole’s careful housekeeping! She had been interested in the kitchen, for she had loved entertaining and had always seen that there was a good supply in the larders of the sort of food which could be kept. Thus, although we scarcely had a haven of plenty, we did have something to eat during those first three months.
There was no way out of the city and no way in. The frontiers were guarded, and the only communication with the rest of the country was done by means of carrier pigeons, Jeanne told me.
She was brave, and I think she undertook her forages into the city in an adventuous spirit.
So we passed through those months.
December came and as far as we knew there was no sign of the breaking of the siege. The winter lay before us. The days were dark. Through the windows we saw the snow falling and there was hushed silence everywhere.
Jeanne came back one day with a piece of salted pork.
“In the Ananas Inn,” she told us. I remembered the place with the pineapple sign outside. It was only a few streets from the house.
The innkeeper had been a friend of hers, she explained. Occasionally at a high cost he let her have something. The Baron had plently of money but the irony of it was that people did not want money nowadays.
What they wanted was food.
We would have the pork on Christmas Day, I said. We should have a real feast. After living on bread and wine for several weeks that would indeed be a treat.
That Christmas will stand out forever in my mind. A cold dark day.
Jeanne lighted the fire early as a special treat and we gathered in the Baron’s room.
I am sure food had never-or ever has since-tasted so good to me as that hard salt pork. It is indeed true that hunger seasons all dishes.
We talked and Kendal recalled last Christmas Eve when we had had a party with a lot of guests. He had got out of bed and watched. The ladies all had pretty dresses and they had all laughed and danced and there was music.
“Well,” said the Baron.
“Paris was not under siege then.”
“How long will it be?” asked Kendal.
“Ah, that is a question I cannot answer. It can’t last, though. Soon we shall all be rejoicing. There’ll be bonfires in the streets.”
We looked at the poor little wood fire struggling in the grate.
“Last year we gave presents to each other,” said Kendal.
“We’ll give presents to each other this year,” the Baron replied.
“Can we?” cried Kendal excitedly.
“Well, just see them … in your mind’s eyes. How would that do?”
“Oh yes, let’s,” cried Kendal.
“What will you give me, Baron?”
“Guess.”
He tried to think and the Baron said: “All right. I’ll tell. It’s a pony … a pony of your own. A white pony.”
“Where shall I ride him?”
“In the fields.”
“There aren’t any fields here.”
“Then we’ll go where there are fields.”
“Shall I just sit on it?”
“Just at first you’ll have to have a leading rein.”
“What’s that?”
The Baron told him.
“What’s his name?” asked Kendal.
“Ponies have to have names, don’t they?”
“You will choose his name.”
Kendal thought for a while. Then he leaned towards the Baron and putting his arms round his neck whispered in his ear.
“Would that do?” he asked.
“I think it might do very well.”
“After all,” said Kendal, ‘you gave it to me and that’s your real name, isn’t it? “
“It is, and now it is the pony’s. Ha, Rollo! The best and most beautiful pony in France.”
Kendal smiled blissfully. I knew he could see himself galloping through fields.
He stopped suddenly and said: “You haven’t given the others anything.”
“No. We were so taken up with your pony. Well.. Jeanne … what shall I give her?”
Kendal whispered to him.
“Yes, that will do very well. Come here, Jeanne. I shall pin it on your bodice.”
“It’s a beautiful brooch,” cried Kendal.
“Of course it is,” said the Baron.
“It’s made of diamonds and emeralds. That will suit jeanne very well.”
“Thank you. Thank you,” said jeanne playing the game to perfection.
“I never thought to have such a brooch in all my days. “
“And now Maman,” said Kendal.
“What have you got for her? It should be something very nice.”
“Oh, it is,” said the Baron. He took my hand and went through the motions of putting a ring on my finger.
“There!” he said.
“Isn’t that magnificent. That’s a family heirloom.”
“Is it real gold?” asked Kendal.
“As real as can be. And the blue stone … that is a sapphire. The finest sapphire in the world. The others are diamonds. The ring has been in my family for generations. It is handed down through the years.”