“Is that so?”
“Indeed it is. Mademoiselle, we are women of the world. I know the Comte well. I know his partiality for attractive young women and in your way-a rather unusual way-you are attractive.”
“Thank you,” I said icily.
“It would not be wise to attach too much importance to his attentions.
Perhaps you think I am being presumptuous, but in view of my relationship with the Comte . my knowledge of him which goes back over many years, I feel I should warn you. You are a foreigner and may not realize how life is lived here. I believe you could put yourself in a very unpleasant situation. The death of the Comtesse . your presence at the chateau . Sometimes I wonder if the Comte arranged it. “
“Arranged … what!”
She lifted her shoulders.
“You will go back to England. It could then be said that you had had your hopes …”
I stood up.
“Madame,” I said, ‘if you are hinting something will you please be more explicit. “
“Yes. Let us speak plainly. In a year’s time-in a respectable period the Comte and I are to marry. Our son will be made legitimate. An unpleasant rumour about the Comtesse’s death will persist.”
“It has been settled that she took her life.”
“Oh but. Mademoiselle, we have to contend with rumour. You will leave here. That is what the Comte intends. I can assure you that soon he will send for you. You will go with Marguerite … or perhaps back to England. People will say an Englishwoman came here for a while. She hoped to marry the Comte and the Comtesse died suddenly … while the English Mademoiselle was in the house.”
“Are you suggesting that I … It … it’s utterly false.”
“Of course. But after all, you did come here. You were friendly with the Comte. It was obvious that you had hopes. You see there is the foundation.”
“Madame,” I said, “I find this conversation nonsensical and offensive. You must excuse me as I wish to bring it to an immediate end.”
“I am sorry. I thought you should know the truth.”
“Good day, Madame.”
“I understand your indignation. You have been treated unfairly. I’m afraid the Comte is ruthless. He uses people for his own ends.”
I shook my head and turned away.
She said: “You must wait for Etienne. He will take you back.”
“I am going now. Goodbye.”
Shaken and trembling I went out to the stables. I wanted to put as far as possible between that woman and myself. Her insinuations were not only offensive; they were frightening.
How dared she suggest that the Comte had brought me here as a scapegoat, that he had killed his wife in order that he might marry Gabrielle and had done it in such a way that the blame could be attached to me.
It was inconceivable. It was the raving of a jealous woman. How could I doubt his sincerity after those scenes between us. That he was a sinner he had never denied. He had much to answer for, but he could never have deceived me so utterly, treated me so callously, as he would have if what she was suggesting were true.
And yet . How suspicious I was! I had been thrust into a world which, brought up as I had been by a god fearing mother with definite ideas of right and wrong, I could not understand.
How long had her affair with him continued? Was it still going on? Did she still attract him? Ethics, morals were considered so differently in the society from which I had come. Perhaps in high places in England there was a similarity. The King’s eldest son. Prince George, was notorious for his amours and so were his brothers. There were scandals among the aristocracy. I was sure that those who lived and thought as my mother had, enjoyed happier lives. Then I began to wonder why simple people were thought to be less clever than the sophisticated ones, when the simple people were often happier, and as everyone sought happiness, the wise must be those who knew how to find it and keep it.
Tortured by my thoughts I had come some way down the path and had reached the spot where the undergrowth grew thickest.
I did not know what it was that broke into my thoughts but I was suddenly uneasily aware of being watched. It might have been the cracking of a twig; it might have been a certain premonition. I could not say, but in that moment all my senses were alerted. I had the feeling that I was being watched and trailed . and for an evil purpose.
“You must never go out alone.” Those were the Comte’s injunctions. I had disobeyed them. Well, not exactly. Etienne had accompanied me to his mother’s and I had expected him to come and take me back, which no doubt he would have done had not I, incensed by his mother’s insinuations, left when I did.
Fifine, my mare, had been ambling quietly along for it was difficult to gallop or canter along this path. It would be dangerous, for she needed to pick her way carefully lest she trip over a gnarled root or a tangle of bracken.
“What is it, Fifine?” I whispered.
She moved forward cautiously.
I looked about me. It seemed dark because of the trees. There was silence and then suddenly a sound . a stone being dislodged . a presence, close . very close.
I was fortunate on that day. I leaned forward to speak to Fifine, to urge her forward and just as I did so a bullet whistled past that spot where a few seconds before my head had been.
I did not hesitate. I dug in my heels. I said: “Go, Fifine!” She did not need to be told. She was as aware of danger as I was.
Neither of us cared for the unevenness of the path. We had to get away from whoever was trying to kill me.
There could be no doubt that that was the intention for another shot rang out. This was wider of the mark but clearly I was the target.
It was with tremendous relief that I came into the stables.
One of the grooms came forward and took Fifine from me. I said nothing to him. I thought it wiser not to. My legs were trembling so much that I could scarcely walk.
I went to my room and threw myself on my bed.
I lay there staring up at the canopy. Someone had tried to kill me. Why? Someone had lain in wait in the undergrowth waiting for me to pass along. Who had known that I had visited Gabrielle?
Etienne. Leon, I remembered, had been there when Etienne had suggested the visit. I had mentioned it to Margot. Any of the servants might have known.
Had someone lain in wait for me? But for that sudden bending forward to speak to Fifine the chances were that I should now be lying dead in the lane.
Margot put her head round the door.
“Minelle, where are you? I heard you come in.” Then she saw me.
“What’s wrong? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
I said, my teeth still chattering: “Someone has just tried to kill me.”
She sat on the bed and stared at me.
“What? When? Where?”
“In the path from Gabrielle LeGrand house to the chateau. Half-way down the path I felt I was being stalked. It was lucky that I did. I leaned forward to urge Fifine on just as a bullet came whistling past my head.”
“It must have been someone shooting birds.”
“I think it was someone who wanted to kill me. There was a second shot and it was aimed at me.”
She had turned pale.
“So,” she said, ‘they are tired of throwing stones through our windows. Now they have decided to kill us. “
“I believe it was someone who wanted me out of the way.”
That’s nonsense. Who would? “
That,” I said unsteadily, ‘is what I have to find out.”
To face an attempt on one’s life is an unnerving experience and the shock is greater than one at first realizes.
Margot had spread the news. She was flatteringly concerned and horrified. We discussed it at table.