Women have Hearts

by Barbara Cartland

  “Where has he gone?” Yvette asked in surprise.

  “I think,” Kelda replied, “that it is correct for him to meet the Governor-General at the front door.”

  Yvette came a little nearer to her.

  “I am trembling, Kelda. I know it is stupid of me but I am so frightened – frightened that you will not be able to save me and in the end I shall have to do what Uncle Maximus wants and marry this terrible old man.”

  “You are not to think like that,” Kelda corrected her. “You have to believe that you will win. Trust in your faith and love. Say a little prayer in your heart and you will feel better and more confident.”

  “I am praying – I am praying all the time to St. Jude, the Patron Saint of lost causes.”

  “This one is not lost,” Kelda said almost savagely. “But go on praying, Yvette. We need all the Saints on our side.”

  There was the sound of voices outside the door and a moment later Lord Orsett came in accompanied by the Governor-General.

  He was, Kelda thought, exactly how she had pictured him, short, thin and wiry with an intelligent face deeply lined with age from spending long years in the tropics. His thinning hair was already turning from grey to white.

  After they were introduced to him and they had talked, she realised that he had a certain charm as well as excellent good manners.

  But he was old, there was no doubt of that. Old and to Yvette, terrifying.

  She, however, behaved in an exemplary manner so that no one, not even Lord Orsett, could have found fault. Although she did not say very much, she listened wide-eyed to what was said to her.

  She accepted the compliments paid her by the Governor-General with a shy modesty that made him think she had never received any compliments before and said charming things about Dakar that undoubtedly pleased both him and Lord Orsett.

  Again it was a performance which made Kelda think might have graced the Comédie Française.

  Only she was aware that Yvette was trembling as she linked her fingers together in her lap so tightly that the knuckles showed white and every now and then there was a little throb in her voice as if her real feelings might overcome her.

  The Governor-General did not stay for very long fortunately.

  Only when he rose to go did he hold Yvette’s hand longer than was necessary and said,

  “It has been a great pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle de Villon, and, as I wish you to see The Palace, your uncle has promised to bring you and your friend to dinner tonight. It is an occasion that I shall be looking forward with more pleasure than it is possible to express in mere words.”

  “I shall look forward to it too,” Yvette replied.

  There was a sudden light in her eyes that the Governor-General could have been excused for thinking was due to what he had just said, but actually Kelda was aware that at The Palace there might be a chance of seeing Rémy.

  Lord Orsett escorted His Excellency out to his carriage and, when he came back into the room, he stood for a moment looking at Yvette and Kelda standing at the other end of it.

  There was something searching in his expression and, Kelda noted perceptively, his eyes were a little cynical, as if he questioned to himself whether it was possible that things could be going as smoothly as they appeared to be.

  “Am I to understand that you are looking forward to dining at The Palace this evening?” he enquired.

  “Of course,” Yvette replied, “I have heard it is very impressive.”

  “Who told you that?”

  The question was sharp and Yvette was quick enough to realise what answer her uncle expected her to give.

  She looked at Kelda with a puzzled expression.

  “Who was it who told us about The Palace, Kelda?” she asked. “Was it the Captain or those kind people who chaperoned us?”

  Kelda was as quick as she was,

  “It was the Captain,” she said. “His Excellency received him after one of his voyages and it was a gesture he much appreciated.”

  The suspicion died out of Lord Orsett’s eyes.

  “I expect after luncheon that you would both like to rest so as to look your best for the festivities this evening,” he said. “But in case, Yvette, you may be thinking of renewing your acquaintanceship with the gentleman you met during your voyage here, let me tell you that I have had his name deleted from the list of those who will be presented to you.”

  For a moment there was an ominous silence and, because she was desperately afraid of what Yvette might say, Kelda stepped sideways and as she did so knocked over a small table that stood beside one of the chairs.

  It fell to the ground with a crash spilling over an ashtray and some small ornaments that had been placed on it.

  “Oh dear, how clumsy of me!” she exclaimed. “I had not realised that it was there. I do hope that nothing is broken.”

  “No, everything is intact,” Yvette said, picking up the things from the floor and putting them back on the table.

  The moment of danger was passed and Kelda drew a sigh of relief.

  Only when after luncheon they went to their rooms, did Yvette burst out into a tirade of fury against her uncle,

  “How dare he prevent Rémy from coming to the dinner party! What do you think he said to the Governor-General? What explanation would he give? Perhaps he has ruined Rémy’s career.”

  “It is much better he should not be there,” Kelda said quietly.

  “What do you mean by that?” Yvette asked almost fiercely.

  “If he was, you would have eyes only for him and all our pretence and your play-acting would be swept away from the first moment your uncle saw you together. He would not then believe for one moment that you will agree to marry His Excellency.”

  Yvette was still for a moment before she admitted,

  “I see what you ‒ mean.”

  “But you will be under the same roof as Rémy and I cannot believe that this will not be his opportunity to communicate with us in some way. Be prepared for anything, a whispered word or something thrust into your hand. I don’t know what it could be, but I am sure that Rémy will take advantage of the fact that you will be there in The Palace.”

  “I hope so – I do hope so,” Yvette murmured.

  The pain in her eyes made Kelda wish that she could hurt Lord Orsett in just the same manner and he could suffer as he was making his niece suffer now.

  The gowns she and Yvette wore that evening made Kelda think that they were far more suitable for a London ball than what Yvette called ‘darkest Africa’.

  Lord Orsett, now looking most elegant in his evening clothes, drove with Yvette and Kelda in a closed carriage to The Palace, which was indeed as impressive as Rémy had told them it was.

  A huge building, much more African in its design than Lord Orsett’s mansion, it had a dignity which was enhanced by the soldiers in their short-sleeved red tunics and pointed red hats.

  There were only six other guests besides themselves, all of them men, and each the Head of some distinguished Office of State.

  It was therefore a party of ten that sat down in the large and imposing dining room and were served with superlative French cuisine under the direction, Kelda learned, of a chef who had come from France and was now training native chefs to carry on when he returned to Paris.

  Because they were the guests of honour Yvette sat on the Governor-General’s right and Kelda on his left, while Lord Orsett was entertained by the Minister of Justice at the other end of the table.

  Kelda was aware that nothing Yvette did escaped his attention.

  She sent her several warning glances during the dinner when she appeared to be looking around as if Rémy might well be concealed in some corner of the room or she might see him through one of the windows.

  As Kelda felt it was important to keep the Governor-General interested and unaware of the tension that Yvette was suffering from, she made every effort to draw him out on Senegal and found it was not a difficult thing
to do.

  He was a man who obviously had a real desire to do his best for the country and for the French Administration of it.

  He told Kelda a great many things she wished to hear and she felt at the end of the dinner that he had been unaware that Yvette had answered him in little more than monosyllables.

  In the French manner there was no question of the ladies leaving the room first and they all moved together back to the large salon where they had been received on arrival.

  Kelda had forgotten that this was the French custom, although she now remembered her mother mentioning it once many years ago.

  It was disappointing because she had half-hoped that when she and Yvette were alone might be Rémy’s opportunity of joining them. But now there was no chance of that and it was with a feeling of relief after they had talked for a little in the salon that Lord Orsett suggested that he should take them home.

  “It has been such a delightful evening,” he said to the Governor-General, “and don’t forget that you have promised to dine with us tomorrow night. We shall be greatly looking forward to it.”

  “Not as much as I am, my Lord,” the Governor-General replied.

  He looked at Yvette as he spoke and Kelda felt her heart give a frightened throb.

  She knew without being told in words, in fact she was sure, that tomorrow the Governor-General would be given a chance of talking to Yvette alone.

  They walked out into the hall and servants were waiting with the light gauze scarves with which they had covered their shoulders on the way to The Palace.

  Kelda waited for the man to help her with hers, turning her back to him so that he should do so. Then, as she felt the wrap put round her, she also felt something hard and square being pressed into her hand.

  Automatically she closed her fingers over it and a minute later slipped it into the little satin bag she carried which Yvette had lent her to go with the gown.

  Once they had arrived back at Lord Orsett’s house, Kelda waited impatiently for him to say ‘goodnight’.

  “The horses will be at the front door at seven o’clock tomorrow morning,” he said. “It is a little later than I usually ride because I would not wish you to ride too far and be stiff, being unable to take much exercise on board ship.”

  The way he said it made Kelda feel that he wanted to add,

  ‘ – before tonight when your prospective husband is coming to dinner.’

  But he did not say anything more and Yvette replied automatically,

  “It will be pleasant to ride again and you can show us what it is like outside the town, which is very much more sophisticated than I expected.”

  “I am delighted it pleases you,” Lord Orsett said

  He said ‘goodnight’ in a perfunctory manner to Kelda and, as she walked up the stairs beside Yvette, she knew how depressed and disappointed the French girl was feeling.

  She had hoped against hope to meet Rémy, but nothing had happened and they had come away from The Palace without seeing him or without him communicating with them as far as she was aware.

  Only when they had reached their bedrooms and the maids had helped them out of their gowns and they were ready for bed, could Kelda carry the little satin bag into Yvette’s room.

  She was lying back against her pillows, an expression of despair on her face until Kelda said,

  “Look what I have brought you!”

  She held out the bag as she spoke and for a moment Yvette did not understand.

  Then she gave a cry.

  “You mean – ?”

  “Open it and see.”

  “Oh, Kelda, I thought he had forgotten me!”

  “See what he has to say or would you rather read it alone?”

  “No, no, of course not. I have no secrets from you.”

  Yvette pulled open the bag with fingers which seemed almost clumsy as if they would not obey her will.

  She took out a small square of folded paper which Rémy had written on in small writing.

  Yvette read it through while Kelda waited.

  Then she almost shouted in a voice that was very moving,

  “He loves me! He loves me and nothing else matters!”

  “What else does he say?” Kelda asked her.

  “He says that we must run away together. He has heard, as you expected, not from the Governor-General but from his aides-de-camp what His Excellency and Uncle Maximus’s plans are. He is horrified and says that he will save me or die in the attempt! ”

  Yvette gave a little sigh.

  “Could any man be more wonderful?”

  “What does he suggest?” Kelda enquired.

  “He says he is making plans and will tell me about them perhaps tomorrow or the next day. He says someone will give me some flowers and I must handle them carefully because there will be a note hidden inside them.”

  “Does he say how you can get away,” Kelda asked, “and where you can go?”

  Yvette was reading the rest of the letter with a rapt expression on her face. And so after a moment she answered in a very low voice,

  “He says he loves me! I am his! He will kill any man who tries to take me away from him! Oh, Kelda, he loves me as I love him and somehow my prayers will be answered and ‒ I shall be Rémy’s wife.”

  Yvette and Kelda talked late into the night and so when Yvette had read Rémy’s letter a dozen times she passed it to Kelda, who knew from the passionate way he wrote that he was deeply disturbed by what he had learnt when he reached The Palace.

  At the same time, she now thought, he was a man enough not to show his fears or his apprehension to Yvette.

  In fact he tried to reassure her, to make her trust him and believe that everything would come right in the end, even though they might encounter many difficulties in the meanwhile.

  “Why did I not think of taking a letter to him?” Yvette asked angrily.

  “Because it would have been a very dangerous and very silly thing to do,” Kelda replied. “We have no idea which of the servants we could trust in The Palace and, if you had written an indiscreet letter, it might have been handed to the Governor-General, then to your uncle, and we should certainly be watched and guarded more carefully in the future than we are at the moment.”

  “I suppose you are right,” Yvette said in a small voice, “but supposing Rémy thinks I no longer ‒ love him?”

  “I think he trusts you as you have trusted him,” Kelda answered, “and I have a feeling, and it is a very comforting one, that we can leave all the planning to Rémy. All we have to do is to carry out his instructions when we receive them.”

  “He is so wonderful,” Yvette said again for the hundredth time.

  Kelda was more relieved than she was.

  It had been a terrible responsibility planning what Yvette should do and how she should behave, feeling that because she had to take the initiative, if they failed, it would be her fault.

  Now she was only too thankful to rely on a man and because she both liked and admired Rémy and he was in fact much older than either of them, she was sure he would be successful in saving Yvette even though the odds were stacked against them.

  It was, however, difficult to sleep and all Kelda could do was try to think of how Rémy could get Yvette away from Lord Orsett’s house and how they could escape from Dakar, then from Senegal without being marched back by soldiers under the command of the Governor-General.

  It was all a ghastly puzzle that there appeared to be no solution to.

  Even when eventually Kelda fell asleep, she was restless and had dreams when she and Yvette were being pursued by mysterious figures wearing masks like those that hung on Lord Orsett’s walls.

  *

  They were ready in the morning at precisely the time that Lord Orsett had said he would be waiting for them and they set off to ride beyond the grounds of the house to where there was no road and it was soft and sandy underfoot.

  For the first time Kelda saw strange round thatched houses where
the natives lived and the Baobab trees, which were leafless all the year round and had huge trunks and tortured contorted branches.

  They gave Kelda the impression of being the victims of a terrible curse, frozen forever at the instant of punishment.

  When there were a number of them standing together, she felt that they had a menacing air.

  But there were other trees that were full of light and were very beautiful, the great silk cotton trees, palms, slender coconuts and bamboos and there were all the fruit trees she had expected to find in Senegal, oranges, lemons, papayas, avocados and guavas.

  Browsing among them were small gazelles, antelopes and monkeys, which scurried away at their approach and occasionally, when they rode close to water, she could see a glimpse of some huge hippopotamuses.

  She found it all fascinating and she knew as they turned for home that Lord Orsett was pleased at her enthusiasm.

  “What do you think of my country?” he asked Yvette as she had not spoken.

  “Your country?” she asked. “You are English, Uncle Maximus.”

  “It is my adopted land,” he said, “and the more I learn about Africa the more I realise how much there is to learn and the more fascinating I find it.”

  “Do you intend to settle here for the rest of your life?” Yvette asked him.

  “I expect so,” Lord Orsett replied. “It will be a long time, at any rate, before my book is finished.”

  “Of course – ” she began with a sideways glance.

  Kelda knew from the tone of her voice that she intended to be deliberately provocative as she added,

  “As you are so keen on increasing the white population, I expect that you, yourself, will be getting married.”

  Kelda felt herself gasp at Yvette’s audacity, but she knew it was because she was feeling happy and reassured by Rémy’s letter that she was no longer so frightened of her uncle as she had been ever since they arrived.

  There was a long pause before Lord Orsett replied.

  Then he said,

  “The idea has certainly occurred to me, but then I have not been back to England for so long, it seemed somewhat impractical.”

  As he spoke, riding at a jog-trot with the girls on each side of him, he turned his head to look at Kelda and she met his eyes.