Выбрать главу

When I had seen him crippled because of what he had done for Kendal, I think I had come near to loving him. I had nursed him with care and tenderness, and perhaps because of the terrible dangers through which we had lived, my feelings towards him had changed. Now he was in his own domain; he had come through the siege of Paris, though not entirely unscathed; he suffered certain pain from his leg, I knew; he would never walk as he had before; but all that did not stop him from doing everything that he wanted to. Here, in the background of his Norman castle, he was the barbarian again, the strong ruthless man who, when he felt a wish, let nothing stand in the way of its gratification.

I said to him: “Please understand that I came to see the manuscripts.

If you are not going to show them to me, I shall go. “

“My dear vehement Kate, of course I am going to show you the manuscripts. Then you won’t have to answer my questions truthfully, will you? You should never be afraid to face the truth, you know.”

“It is you who will not face the truth.”

“But I do. I agree with your opinion of me. But you won’t face what it really is. Do you think I don’t know that if I took you now … as I did that night… you would not inwardly rejoice? But I want it to be different now. I want you to come to me willingly. That’s what I’ve set my heart on. I’ve become sentimental. What I want most of all is to marry you.”

“It is easy to make such a proposal,” I reminded him, ‘when you know it is impossible to carry it out. “

“It won’t always be impossible.”

“Why don’t_>ioa face the truth? You are married. Yours is no ordinary marriage because your wife is a Princesse. You married her for her royal blood, remember? But the children did not come and the blue blood can’t be used. That’s not a good enough excuse for annulling a marriage, and she would never agree to it. Therefore how can your proposal to another woman be of any substance at all?”

I saw that cold look in his eyes which made them look like ice.

“You’re wrong, Kate. You accept defeat too easily. I’ll tell you this: one day it will come to pass. “

I was afraid then . afraid of him, as not long ago I had been afraid of his wife.

“Shall I see the manuscripts?” I said as coolly as I could.

“But certainly,” he replied.

We pored over them together. They were fascinating. They had been in the castle for centuries, and he believed they had been presented to the family by a monk who had given up his calling and come out into the world. He had worked at the castle and made the manuscripts while he was there.

“Fifteenth century, would you say?” asked Rollo, “I think they might even be a little earlier. Oh, it would be a wonderful job. My father used to love this kind of work …” I heard my voice tremble a little as I mentioned my father, for I was thinking of how he had found this life so unendurable without his sight that he had decided to leave it. Then my thoughts switched to Marie-Claude who had at one time had the same idea. How cruel life could be sometimes!

Rollo was watching me intently.

“You have such an expressive face,” he said.

“So many emotions flit across it. You are sad now, thinking of your father. My dear Kate, it is your mouth rather than your eyes which betrays you to me. That is why I know that beneath that facade of resentment which you show me, you love me … you really do.”

I looked down at the manuscripts.

“It would be difficult to get the paints I should need to restore them.”

“We can try.”

“It is always difficult at any time. These people mixed their own colours and no artist used the same.”

“We can try together. We can go and visit the artist about whom I told you. He has lived near here since he was a young man. He is a good artist. I found him and brought him here to work for me. He may well have some of the paints you require. You will be occupied and if you are working you will be content and push aside this ridiculous notion that you ought to be somewhere else.”

Then he drew me to him and kissed me gently. I knew that he was right. In spite of everything he was dominating my thoughts. If that was falling in love, then that was what I was doing.

The weeks were slipping past. I was absorbed by the work on the manuscripts, so I was at the castle every morning. While I was working Kendal was taking lessons with William and every day seemed very like another. Spring had come. There was still trouble in Paris, and I was no nearer returning there than I had been when I first arrived here.

It was easier to move about the country now, though, and with the coming of May what was known as the Treaty of Frankfurt was signed.

There was peace at last. The French grumbled about the terms which had been imposed on them, for they had to hand over Alsace and a great part of Lorraine to the Germans as well as paying a huge money indemnity.

Soon, I thought, I shall have to go to Paris.

I wondered what had happened to the house in which we had lived so long.

At the end of May, Rollo did go to Paris to see what it was like there now. Most eagerly did I await his return.

I had had several conversations with Marie-Claude over the weeks, and she really did seem glad that we were there. I think we enlivened the days to a certain extent. She watched me, I knew; and I think it probably gave her an interest to speculate on the relationship between her husband and myself.

Sometimes I caught a certain satisfaction in her face, as though it was amusing that I should be there and that there should be this frustration between Rollo and me.

I was sure that she thought we had been lovers at some time even though she might be a little uncertain as to our relationship now; in any case she was intrigued, and her nature was such that she enjoyed that.

She spent a great deal of time in what she called ‘re sting’.

She liked to think of herself as a semi-invalid. I believed that weakness added an interest to her life. I wondered, too, whether she used it to keep Rollo away. Like so many men of outstandingly good physical health, he would have little sympathy with illness. He had been impatient of his own weakness, and although he had at one time suffered great pain, he had always been reluctant to admit it.

His attitude towards Marie-Claude was one of dislike and contempt, and being the man he was, he took no great pains to hide it.

He came back from Paris with the depressing news that the city was not yet settling down, although it would do so in time. The house had been destroyed with everything in it. Rioters must have set fire to it.

“All part of the whole stupid business,” he said angrily.

So I would have nowhere to go in Paris. Perhaps I should go back to England for a while. I could stay with Clare. I presumed that my letter had not reached her as I still had had no reply.

It was late afternoon of a lovely May day. The boys were playing somewhere in the castle precincts. I had been working all the morning and some of the afternoon on the manuscripts, as it was such a good light. I was in a peaceful frame of mind as I often was after a day’s work, feeling pleasantly tired and immensely satisfied with the work I had done. I had, that afternoon, thought of a new way to get the Venetian red and cobalt blue which I needed. I was looking forward to the next day when I should be able to test my new method.

I had gone outside the Loge for it was a lovely balmy day and I was sitting on the grass near the moat deep in thought when I heard one of the maids calling my name.

I jumped up and went to her.

“Oh Madame Collison, there is a lady come to the castle. She is asking for you.”

I turned. Another maid was coming towards me and with her a woman. I could not believe my eyes.

“Kate!” she cried.