“Hardly that. My father’s land borders on theirs. There is a sort of armed neutrality … not open warfare … but both sides ready to go into action at the least offence from the other.”
“It sounds very warlike to me.”
“It is hard for you with your English upbringing to understand the fierce nature of the people here. It is the Latin blood … and although you were born with it, your upbringing has evidently brought down its boiling point.”
I laughed. “It all sounds very interesting.”
“We shall soon see my place. Oh, look. Ahead of you.”
Katie leaped up and down with excitement. My father put an arm about her and held her against him.
It was like a miniature chateau with the now familiar pepper-pot towers. It was of grey stone and there were green shutters at the windows, several of which had wrought-iron balconies. It was charming.
As we drew up I saw a man and a woman standing at the door as though to receive us.
“There is Ursule,” said my father. “Ursule, my dear, how good of you to come over to greet us. And you, Louis.” He turned to me. ”This is your aunt Ursule. And this is her husband Louis.” He smiled at them. “Lenore,” he said, “and her daughter, Katie.”
“Welcome to Carsonne,” said Ursule. She was dark-haired and not unlike my father. There was an air of kindliness about her and I liked her immediately. Louis was, as my father had said, a very gentle man. He took my hands and said how pleased he was to see me.
”We have been urging your father for a long time to bring you here,” said Ursule. “Come along in. We live half a mile away. I had to come over to welcome you.”
We went into the house and were in a long panelled hall with a great fireplace round which gleamed brass ornaments.
“I have arranged which room Lenore shall have,” said Ursule. ‘ ‘I thought it better not to leave it to the servants, and Katie shall have the one immediately next to hers.”
“That is thoughtful of you,” I said. “We like to be close.”
Katie was taking everything in as Ursule took us up to our rooms. Mine was low-ceilinged with pale green drapes and bedspread and there were hints of green in the light grey carpet. It was a charming restful room and what delighted me was the communicating door between it and Katie’s.
In mine there was a balcony. I opened the french windows and stepped out. In the distance I could see the towers of the Chateau Carsonne and the terracotta coloured roofs of the houses in the little town close by. And there below me were the ever-present vines.
I felt touched in some odd way. Beyond the chateau lay Villers-Mure—the mulberries and the manufactory … the place where I had first seen the light of day. I suppose one must be moved by the sight of one’s birthplace, particularly when one has never seen it before.
Hot water was brought and we washed and changed our clothes. Katie kept exclaiming at something new she had discovered.
She said: “Isn’t it exciting to find a grandfather in the park? You’re always finding out something about him. Other people’s grandfathers are rather dull. They’ve been there all the time.”
“Some people might like it that way,” I commented.
“I don’t. I like it our way.”
After we had eaten a meal in the courtyard we were taken back into the house to meet the servants. There were quite a number of them. Ursule explained everything to me as we went along.
“We eat in the courtyard until it gets too cold. We like the fresh air. And it can be very hot sometimes. Georges—your father’s son … your half-brother really … comes here quite frequently. He has his own place now about fifteen kilometres away. His sister Brigitte has recently married and lives in Lyons. I daresay you’ll meet them sometimes. I am so glad you and my brother are together. He has never forgotten your existence and when your grandmother came here and sought him out he was so excited … so happy. So it is wonderful to see you here.”
“He has been so good to me.”
“He feels he can never make up.”
“He has to me … more than I can say.”
She asked if I could ride and I told her that I could.
”That is good. It is not easy to get around any other way and you should see a little of the countryside.”
“I should like to see Villers-Mure.”
She did not speak for a moment. Then she said: “I haven’t been there for over twenty years.”
“Yet it is so near.”
“Did you know the story? I displeased my father when I married. It is not forgotten.”
“It seems … terrible … all that time.”
“That’s the way it is.”
“Have you never tried to become friendly again?”
“It is clear that you do not know my father. He is a man who prides himself on keeping his word. He has said he will never see me again—and that is what he will do.”
“He must miss a great deal in life. He must be very unhappy. ”
She shook her head. “He has what he wants. He is the Seigneur of Villers-Mure. He is the king in his domain and all must obey him or suffer the penalty he inflicts upon them for disobedience. I believe he is content. Well, I have never regretted choosing the way I did.”
”So you never go there?”
She shook her head. ”Never.”
After Ursule had shown us the house, my father took us on a little tour round the vineyards. We ate once more in the courtyard and we sat long over the meal until it was dark. The night air was scented and as we sat watching the stars appear in the sky, a bat flew back and forth … low just over our heads; and we still sat on.
My father, I knew, was very content, that at last we had come. Ursule and Louis were staying for a few days. “To see you settled in,” said Ursule. “Your father needs a hostess at times and this is one of them.”
We talked desultorily about the little town of Carsonne which was almost on the borders of Italy, and where the air was just right for the cultivation of the grape.
We were growing drowsy on my father’s best wine which he had had brought up from his cellar for the occasion and I noticed that Katie was finding it difficult to keep her eyes open, so I suggested we go to bed.
I saw Katie into her bed. “I’ll leave the communicating door open,” I said. “Then we shall be close.”
I think she was rather glad of that. Perhaps she felt that there was something rather eerie about the countryside after dark. By the time I had tucked her in and kissed her good night she was almost asleep.
Then I went to my room. I undressed, but before getting into bed I opened the windows and went out onto the balcony. It looked dark and mysterious—the stars brilliant in the clear air; and seeming closer than it did by day. There it was—the Chateau Carsonne, arrogant, mighty, menacing in a way. I found it difficult to withdraw my gaze from it.
Finally I went to bed but I found sleep elusive. I kept thinking of all the events of the day and when I did sleep it was to be haunted by dreams in which my wicked grandfather loomed large and the Chateau Carsonne was a prison in which he had decided to shut me up because I had dared come into his territory against his wishes.
When I awoke the dream lingered. It made me feel very uneasy and the first thing I did on rising was to go out to the balcony and look at the Chateau Carsonne.
A few days passed with rapid speed. Ursule and Louis departed, Ursule insisting that we visit them soon. I assured her mat there was little I should like more. We were good friends already.
“We are always in a little turmoil here at the time of the vendange,” said my father. “An excitement grips the household. It is the culmination of a year’s hard work… all the trials we have undergone … all the anxieties as to whether or not there would be a good harvest or no harvest at all … that is over, and this is the achievement.”