A Spell in Provence

by Marie Laval

  ‘Will-o’-the-wisp” is about the shimmering lights that shine in the ancient woods between Manoir Coste and Bellefontaine several times a year – in the springtime particularly – and which are rumoured to be the guardian spirits of some ancient goddess.’

  ‘I saw those lights … twice,’ Amy said. ‘Madame Ducros, one of my guests, saw them too a few nights ago, not to mention many other people who mentioned them to me – Sophie Dessange, Madame Verdier, and Lily.’

  ‘What could they be?’ Chris asked.

  Laurent looked at her and smiled.

  ‘There’s nothing for you to be afraid of. These are just stories, old tales and superstitions.’

  He carried on.

  ‘Another story, “The Devil’s Mouth”, refers to the temple in the woods. Piquot went to the temple which he reported was only an empty shell with statues of a goddess standing guard on either side, like we see on the prints. Inside the temple was an altar and a gaping hole – the entrance to a tunnel supposedly leading to an underground chamber. Piquot didn’t go in. He wrote that nobody would go with him and he was afraid of getting lost on his own.’

  ‘Renaud Coste mentions this in his diary,’ Amy cut in. 'He wrote that locals called it “the gaping mouth of hell”.’

  Laurent took a sip of wine.

  ‘Interesting.’

  He put his glass down and looked at his notebook.

  ‘The last story is a rather chilling one, and reminded me of that dream of yours. “The Forgotten Virgins” is all about young women found wandering in the woods in a state of utter terror.’

  He cast Amy an uneasy glance.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Piquot reports that the poor girls apparently all ranted about being taken underground by masked and ghostly figures and being covered with human blood before being abused.’

  He swallowed audibly.

  ‘A handful also claimed they had seen a young man being killed and beheaded in front of their eyes.’

  Amy started pacing the kitchen floor.

  ‘So it may be true … I can’t understand how these atrocities were allowed to carry on for years – centuries – without anyone trying to put a stop to them.’

  ‘Please tell me these are only fancy stories,’ Chris said, a pleading look in her eyes.

  Laurent again raked his fingers in his hair.

  ‘Of course they are. I mean … even if my research indicates that sacrifices did happen around here in ancient times, it is simply inconceivable that they should have carried on until Piquot’s time, let alone now.’

  Chris let out a long sigh and smiled.

  ‘Thank God for that. For a moment, it looked as if you actually believed all this nonsense.’

  Amy was sure Laurent was lying to reassure Chris.

  ‘Right,’ he said, rubbing his hands together. ‘It’s time I drew the Coste and Bruni family trees! I have dates and facts aplenty … It’s going to be a long night.’

  Chris patted his forearm and stood up.

  ‘I’ll make you some coffee to keep you going.’

  ‘I want to come with you tomorrow when you explore the tunnel with Fabien,’ Amy decided. ‘That way I’ll know for sure if it leads to the cellar and was how people crept into Bellefontaine at night.’

  ‘Don’t you think you’re being a little paranoid? Even assuming there was an old tunnel under Bellefontaine, and it hasn’t collapsed, why would anyone want to sneak into the house?’

  ‘To scare me, drive me crazy, sabotage my business, force me to sell up and leave.’

  She looked at her sister.

  ‘I’m afraid I haven’t been totally honest with you.’

  She told them about the leaking taps, the television and radio being turned on all night, about the fire in the living room, the freezer defrosting – and the cellar door she’d find open in the morning when she was sure she’d shut it before going to bed.

  ‘I thought I was tired and distracted, but I now believe someone was coming into the house to play tricks on me.’

  ‘Poor Amy. You must have been so scared.’

  Chris cast a nervous glance towards the hallway and the cellar door.

  ‘I also believe the people involved in that cult – whoever they are – came in through the tunnels and the cellar to take me to the underground chamber I remember.’

  ‘But if this was true – and I'm really not convinced it’s the case – then why didn’t you scream and fight your attackers off?’ Laurent objected.

  ‘I must have been drugged. I remember feeling something damp on my face - something that smelled of chemicals.’

  Laurent frowned.

  ‘Damn it, Amy. What if you’re right and you didn’t have a nightmare and sleepwalk into the woods after all? What if …’

  ‘Oh my God.’ Chris said, ‘What if they come here and take Peter?’

  ‘Don’t be scared,’ Amy said. ‘I don’t think anyone has sneaked into Bellefontaine since the burglary, and since Fabien gave me Michka. That puppy may be small to but she sure can bark.’

  Chris’s face broke into a relieved smile.

  ‘There you are! That’s the proof you were waiting for, the proof that Fabien can’t be one of the bad guys. He wouldn’t have given you the dog if he and his associates needed access to the house to terrorize you, would he?’

  Amy gasped. Chris was right. Fabien was innocent. It felt like a huge weight was suddenly lifted off her chest. She grabbed hold of her car keys and handbag.

  ‘Where are you going now?’ her sister asked.

  ‘To see Fabien. I want to tell him everything, and apologise for my behaviour.’

  She heaved a sigh.

  ‘I’ve been so confused. So suspicious. So wrong. I even thought he had nailed that dead rabbit on my door, slashed my tyres, and planted that dead crow on my car.’

  Laurent smiled. ‘I have trouble picturing him doing any of that. Hurry, then. Chris and I will hold the fort.’

  It only took half an hour to drive to La Bergerie. She stopped the engine, switched the headlights off, and got out of the car. The night was quiet, except for a warm breeze rustling through leaves and a river gushing nearby.

  In front of her the cliffs stood, dark now against the starry sky. Amy walked to the youth hostel's reception where a middle-aged man was watching a game show on an old-fashioned television set behind a wooden counter. He directed her to the games room at the back of the building.

  What should she tell Fabien? Amy wondered as she made her way to a one-storey wooden hut from where laughter and music drifted through the open door. She stood in the shadows and peered inside. The children played table football, ping-pong or darts. Frédéric sat slumped on a sofa, a beer bottle in his hand, a sports newspaper spread open in his lap. At the far end of the room Fabien played pool with a couple of elder boys. He had changed into a pair of faded jeans and a black T-shirt. A lock of dark hair fell onto his forehead as he bent down to take aim at a ball.

  He must have felt her gaze because he stopped and looked straight at her across the playroom. He put his cue on the pool table, said something to one of the carers, and walked towards the door.

  She retreated into the shadows outside to wait for him. She still had no idea what she was going to say.

  Suddenly he stood in front of her.

  ‘This is a surprise. Has anything happened? Are you alright?’

  ‘I need to speak to you, if you can spare the time.’

  ‘Sure. Let’s go by the river. We won’t be disturbed there.’

  He took her hand to lead her down a path that snaked down a slope. The noise of the waterfall rumbled, a lot louder now. She breathed in the scent of the water, she could even feel the humid haze rising from the river like mist. The night sky was a thick, dark velvet pricked with millions of stars that glittered like powdered diamonds. Fabien stopped and turned to face her. The crescent moon lit his face.

  ‘Go on. I’m listening.’

  ‘
There’s so much to say. I don’t know where to start.’

  ‘Take your time.’

  He gave her hand a light squeeze.

  She took a deep breath and started talking very fast.

  ‘First, I lied about the reason I pushed you away after the night we .... the night I spent in your cottage. It wasn’t because I didn’t want a relationship, but because I needed time.’

  ‘Time for what?’

  Fabien lifted her hand to his mouth and turned it over to kiss her wrist, caressing her skin so softly with his lips that she shivered all over.

  ‘Time to work out the truth about you. I didn’t trust you. I was wrong, I know that now. You see, there are things I never told you about Bellefontaine, things that happened to me and to others.’

  Once she started, the words tumbled out.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘The night before you found me in the forest, I had a dream … well, I thought it was a dream.’

  She described the ceremony as best as she could, with as many details as she could remember.

  ‘So when I ran away from the cottage, from you, it was because the salinum on your shelf was the exact same one as the one I saw during the ceremony. I thought you were involved. I thought you were one of them. Then we found the ring … and once again, it was the same one the man in the temple wore.’

  ‘My father’s ring,’ Fabien said in a cold, harsh voice. ‘I understand now. Carry on.’

  Amy told him about Sophie Dessange, and explained that the woman had now contacted the gendarmes.

  ‘Capitaine Ferri and Lieutenant Bijard came to see me on Sunday to tell me she wanted to come to Bellefontaine. I don't think she'll be happy to see Bijard there, since he was the one who didn’t believe her years ago, the one who refused to take her statement and put her on the train back to Avignon.’

  Fabien started.

  ‘Bijard? He led the enquiry into my father’s shooting accident. My mother often complained that he hadn’t done a thorough job. Is there anything else you haven't told me?'

  ‘There is. I found a trap door in Bellefontaine's basement. I’m sure it leads to one of the tunnels featured on the plans of Manoir Coste and that's the way people got inside Bellefontaine at night before.’

  She paused.

  ‘I didn’t dream the ceremony, Fabien. It really took place. As for Sophie Dessange, I believe her when says she was hurt and her boyfriend was killed. I believe all of Chevalier’s and Lily’s stories about the goddess and the cult too. And I’m scared. We must stop these people, whoever they are. ’

  He let go of her. His eyes glinted in the moonlight.

  ‘Nobody will hurt you ever again, I promise.’

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Anger twisted inside him. He wished there was something – or someone – he could punch. Instead he bent down, grabbed hold of a large stone, and threw it as hard as he could against the cliff on the other side of the river. It bounced back, then splashed into the water. The sounds echoed into the night.

  He picked another one and hurled it at the rocks. How could have been so blind to what was going on under his nose all this time? He’d always dismissed the stories about the goddess and her followers as fanciful gossip. If what Amy was saying was true – and he now believed it was – there was a gang of maniacs, rapists and murderers in Bonnieux, who might even take advantage of Manoir Coste’s network of ancient underground passages to commit their crimes and evade justice.

  Who the hell were they? Did he know them? Maybe he worked alongside them and talked to them every day. He would hunt them down, every single one of them. After all hunting was in his blood. But first he would get the man who stole his father’s ring and abducted Amy, the man who had dared touch her in that underground temple of his. A primal urge to hurt, maim, and kill overtook him at the thought of what she’d been experienced that night – and of what might have happened.

  He was about to pick up another rock when he felt a light touch on his shoulder. Amy stood in front of him, so small and vulnerable his heart, his whole body, ached with the need to scoop her in his arms, take her away and keep her safe, always.

  The moonlight cast a silver glow on her long hair, made her eyes look dark, and her blouse so transparent he could see the contours of her breasts under the thin fabric. His mouth dried up. She looked like a magical creature of the night, a very desirable creature. His raw anger merged with another hot, primitive urge that coursed through him, made him hard. He almost groaned aloud as he remembered the feel of her skin and the softness of her body under him.

  No wonder she’d been terrified. She was alone, with no one to rely on, no one to trust. He should have been there to protect her, and make sure she was safe.

  And what had he done? He’d given her a puppy! A harmless, fluffy puppy! His whole body stiffened with rage once again, this time against himself.

  ‘I’m going back to Manoir Coste right now to explore the tunnel,’ he declared. ‘The kids will be disappointed if I cancel tomorrow’s rock climbing session but this is more important. I have to do something to discover the truth …’

  ‘No. Wait until tomorrow. You will be safer with Laurent.’

  ‘I didn’t protect you,’ he whispered in a hoarse voice.

  ‘It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know.’

  She put the palm on her hand against his cheek in a soothing gesture.

  ‘Didn’t want to know, more like.’

  What if that sordid family secret he’d uncovered a few months back whilst going through his father’s papers in the library had anything to do with all this? What if his father – and his grandfather before him – had known about the temple all along? What if they’d been part of it?

  He wrapped his arms around Amy’s waist and pulled her to him. A low growl escaped from deep inside his throat as her lips parted to respond to him. His mouth demanded, his hands possessed, but it wasn’t nearly enough. He wanted to drown himself inside her. He wanted to forget about that damned temple and its goddess, about the cult and those threatening the woman in his arms. He wanted to forget the world and give in to the need pulsing inside him.

  Stepping back onto the grass verge, he pulled her down on top of him and cushioned her fall with his body. Then slipping one hand behind her neck he kissed her long and deep while his other hand slid under her shirt. Her fingers trailed down the side of his neck and gripped his shoulders. Her touch spurred him on. When he moved to lay her down on her soft grass under him, her eyes lit up, alive with stars. Once again he felt like he was holding some precious, enchanting and mysterious creature in his arms.

  All his senses seemed heightened. The stars shone more brightly, the night shadows looked deeper and the grass and herbs formed a soft and fragrant cushion. Most of all it was the scent and the feel of the woman his body pinned to the ground that intoxicated him.

  ‘I can see the whole sky in your eyes,’ he whispered as he stoked the outline of her face, his fingers following the curve of her cheek and her throat into the opening of her top.

  She trembled under him, her breathing became faster. Impatient, he pulled the garment down enough to expose the top of her breasts and her bra and stroked her through the fabric until she arched against him and let out a throaty moan.

  ‘I think we’d better go back. I’m not sure I can behave myself if we stay out here.’

  ‘Maybe I don’t want you to behave yourself,’ she replied in a breathless voice.

  He needed no further encouragement. He bent down to kiss her again. His fingers slid down her stomach, impatient. He started to undo the top button of her jeans.

  He was about to pull her jeans down when twigs snapped and stones rolled on the path nearby. He stilled, held his breath, listened. Someone was close by, spying on them. He jumped up to his feet.

  ‘What was that?’ Amy asked, sitting up in alarm.

  ‘Stay here,’ he instructed as he sprinted up the path.

  He ran as fast
as he could but whoever had been there was either gone, or hiding in the bushes or behind the large boulders scattered on the ground. It was far too dark to start searching.

  Cursing he ran back down to the river bank where Amy waited for him.

  ‘It must have been kids,’ he said with a frown. ‘I couldn’t catch them.’

  ‘Are you sure they were children?’ she whispered in a tight, frightened voice.

  ‘Of course.’

  It had to be kids, who else would be hanging about at this time of night?

  ‘They probably wanted to mess about in the river, then stumbled on us and got an eyeful and a lot more than they’d bargained for.’

  He smiled and took her hand. It was icy to the touch.

  ‘You’re cold.’

  He pulled her into his arms, and then he knew for sure.

  It wasn’t just lust. It was more – much, much more. Deep down he’d known for a while. He didn’t care if it was the result of a spell or an enchantment. He’d fought it long enough. It was time he accepted it. He loved her, like he’d never loved a woman before.

  He held her tight and rubbed her back until she was no longer trembling.

  ‘Come on, let’s go back to the Bergerie.’

  They walked back to the youth hostel hand in hand.

  ‘We’ll go to my room first, then I’ll get us some tea or coffee.’

  The reception area was deserted and Fabien took his key from a hook on the wall, then led her down a corridor on the ground floor and into a small room furnished only with a single wooden sleigh bed, a rickety old chair and a white sink.

  ‘It’s what people call rustic, but it’s comfortable enough.’

  Fabien switched on the bedside lamp and a cosy, warm orange glow bathed the room.

  He walked back to her and put his arms around her waist.

  She nestled against him.

  His hands stroked her soft, curvy hips as he bent down to kiss the hollow at the base of her throat where her pulse beat fast, then the soft swelling of her breasts.

  He pulled on the tie of her top until it fell on her shoulders. He slid her bra straps down and slowly pushed the top and the bra down until her breasts jutted out, full and round. Her skin glowed. Her breasts, pushed high by the bra, heaved with her every breath, the nipples dark pink and tight, inviting his touch. He stroked them with the pad of his thumbs, revelling in the feel of the smooth, silky flesh in his hands.