“Well, I hope you’ll not forget that you’re a young lady all the same. And you can’t go. Miss Dallas. It wouldn’t be right. I know it. It would be bad for you.”
“Bad? In what way?”
“Not… quite nice. What man would want to marry a young lady who’d been off abroad all by herself?”
“I’m not looking for a husband, Annie. I’m looking for work. And I’ll tell you this: my mother was exactly the same age when she and her sister came to England to stay with their aunt. The two girls actually went to the theatre alone. Fancy that! Mother told me she did something even more daring. She went to a political meeting once in a cellar in Chancery Lane … and, as a matter of fact, that was where she met Father. So, if she hadn’t been bold and adventurous she wouldn’t have had a husband at least not that one.”
“You were always one for making what you wanted sound right. I know you of old. But I say this; It’s not right. And I stick to that.”
But it had to be right. And so, after a great deal of consideration and trepidation, I had decided to accept the challenge and come to Chateau Gaillard.
We crossed the drawbridge and as I looked at those ancient walls with their moss and ivy, supported by the great buttresses, as I gazed at the cylindrical towers, at the rounded roofs rising to conical points, I was praying that I might not be sent away. We passed under the archway and entered a courtyard with grass growing between the cobbles, and I was struck by the silence. In the centre of the courtyard was a well about which was a parapet and stone pillars supporting a dome. There were a few steps leading to a loggia in front of one side of the building, and I saw the words ‘de la Talle’ entwined in the fleursdelis cut into the wall above a door.
Joseph took out my bags, set them by this door and shouted: “Jeanne.”
A maid appeared and I noticed the startled look in her eyes when she saw me. Joseph told her that I was Mademoiselle Lawson, I was to be taken to the library and my arrival was to be made known. The bags would be taken to my room later.
I was so excited at the prospect of entering the castle that I felt quite reckless. I followed Jeanne through the heavy studded door into a great hall on the stone walls of which hung magnificent tapestries and weapons. I quickly noticed one or two pieces of furniture in the regence style one of these a magnificent table of carved gilt wood, with the delicate lattice work which became so popular in France during the early eighteenth century. The tapestries, which were exquisite and of the same period as the furniture, were in the Beauvais style with Boucher-like figures. It was wonderful; and my desire to pause and examine almost overcame my fear, but already we had turned off the hall and were mounting a flight of stone steps.
Jeanne held aside a heavy curtain and I was stepping on a thick carpet in great contrast to the stone steps. I stood in a short dark corridor at the end of which was a door. When this was thrown open the library was disclosed.
“If Mademoiselle will wait…”
I inclined my head. The door was shut and I was alone.
The room was lofty, the ceiling beautifully painted. There would be great treasure in this place, I knew; and I could not bear to be sent away. The walls were lined with leather-bound books and there were several stuffed heads of animals which seemed to guard them ferociously.
The Comte is a mighty hunter, I thought, and imagined him relentlessly pursuing his prey.
A clock with a carved cupid poised above its face stood on the mantelpiece and on either side of it were two delicately coloured Sevres vases. The chairs were upholstered in tapestry and their framework was decorated with flowers and scrolls.
But impressed as I was by these treasures, I was too apprehensive to give them my full attention. I was thinking of my coming interview with the formidable Comte and rehearsing what I would say to him.
There must be no loss of dignity on my part. I must remain calm, yet I must not appear too eager. I must disguise the fact that I longed to be allowed to work here, that I might succeed and so move on to win further commissions. I believed that my future hung on the next few minutes. And how right I was.
I heard Joseph’s voice.
“In the library, monsieur….”
Footsteps. Any moment now I should face him. I went to the fireplace.
Logs were laid there but there was no fire; I looked at the painting above the Louis XV clock, not seeing it; my heart was beating fast and I was gripping my hands in an effort to stop them trembling, when the door opened. I pretended not to be aware of it so that I might gain a few seconds’ respite in which to compose myself.
There was a brief silence, then a cool voice said: “This is most extraordinary.”
He was about an inch taller than I, but I was tall. The dark eyes were at the moment puzzled, but they looked as though they could be warm; the long aquiline nose suggested arrogance; but the full lips were not unkind. He was dressed in riding clothes which were very elegant a trifle too elegant. His cravat was ornate and there was a gold ring on the little finger of each hand. He was fastidious in the extreme and not as formidable as I had imagined him. This should have pleased me, but I felt faintly disappointed. Yet this man was more likely to be sympathetic towards me than the Comte of my imagination.
“Good day,” I said.
He took a few steps forward. He was younger than I had thought he would be, for he could not have been more than a year or so older than I . perhaps my own age.
“No doubt,” he said, ‘you will be good enough to explain. “
“Certainly. I have come to work on the paintings which are in need of attention.”
“We understood that Monsieur Lawson was to arrive today.”
“That would have been quite impossible.”
“You mean he will come later?”
“He died some months ago. I am his daughter, and am continuing with his commitments.”
He looked rather alarmed.
“Mademoiselle Lawson, these paintings are very valuable …”
“It would scarcely be necessary to restore them if they were not.”
“We could only allow an expert to handle them,” he said.
“J am an expert. My father was recommended to you. I worked with him.
In fact the restoration of buildings was his forte . pictures were mine. “
This is the end, I thought. He is annoyed to have been placed in a distasteful situation. He will never let me stay. I made a desperate effort.
“You had heard of my father. Then that means you had heard of me. We worked together.”
“You did not explain …”
“I believed the matter was urgent. I thought it wiser to obey the summons without delay. If my father had accepted the commission I should have come with him. We always worked together.”
“Pray be seated,” he said.
I sat down in a chair with a carved wooden back which forced me to sit straight while he threw himself on to a settee, his legs stretched out before him.
“Did you think. Mademoiselle Lawson,” he said slowly, ‘that had you explained that your father was dead we should have declined your services? “
“I believed that your object was to have the pictures restored and was under the impression that it was the work which was important, not the sex of the restorer.” Again that arrogance, which was really the outward sign of my anxiety! I was certain that he was going to tell me to go. But I had to fight for a chance, because I knew that if only I could get it I could show them what I could do.
His brow was wrinkled as though he were trying to come to a decision; he was watching me covertly. He gave a little laugh which was quite mirthless and said: “It seems strange that you did not write and tell us.”
I rose to my feet. Dignity demanded it.
He stood up. I had rarely felt as wretchedly miserable as I did when I haughtily walked to the door.
“One moment, mademoiselle.”
He had spoken first. It seemed a small victory.
> I looked over my shoulder without turning.
“Only one train leaves our station each day. This is at nine o’clock in the morning. It would be necessary for you to drive some ten kilometres to catch a mainline train for Paris.”
“Oh!” I allowed dismay to show on my face.
“You see,” he went on, ‘you have placed yourself in a very awkward situation. “
“I did not think that my credentials would be slighted without scrutiny. I have never worked before in France and was quite unprepared for such a reception.”
It was a good thrust. He rose to it.
“Mademoiselle, I assure you, you will be treated as courteously in France as you would be anywhere else.”
I raised my shoulders.
“I suppose there is an inn a hotel where I could stay the night?”
“We could not allow that. We can offer you hospitality.”
“It is good of you,” I said coldly, ‘but in the circumstances . “
“You spoke of credentials.”
“I have recommendations from people who were very i9
pleased with my work in England. I have worked in some of our great houses and have been entrusted with masterpieces. But you are not interested. “
“That is not true, mademoiselle. I am interested. Any thing connected with the chateau is of the utmost concern to me.” His face had changed as he spoke. It was illumined by a great passion his love for this old house. I warmed towards him. I should have felt as he did if such a place were my home. He went on hurriedly: “You must admit that I am justified in my surprise. I expected a man of experience and am confronted by a young lady …”
“I am no longer young, I assure you.”
He made no effort to refute this, still seeming preoccupied with his own thoughts his emotions where the chateau was concerned, his indecision as to whether to allow me, whose skill he doubted, near his wonderful paintings.
“Perhaps you would show me your credentials.”
I walked back to the table and from an inner pocket of my cloak took a bundle of letters and handed them to him. He signed for me to be seated. Then he too sat and began to read the letters. I folded my hands in my lap and clasped them firmly. A moment before, I thought I had lost; now I was not so sure.
I watched him while pretending to study the room. He was trying to make up his mind what he should do. This surprised me. I had imagined the Comte to be a man who was rarely in doubt, who made quick decisions, having no difficulty as to the wisdom of them since he would believe himself always to be right.
“They are very impressive,” he said as he handed them back to me. He looked full at me for some seconds, then went on rather hesitantly: “I expect you would like to see the pictures.”
“There seems little point if I am not to work on them.”
“Perhaps you will. Mademoiselle Lawson.”
“You mean …”
“I mean that I think you should stay here at least for a night. You have had a long journey. You are tired, I am sure. And as you are such an expert’ he glanced at the letters in my hand ‘and have been so highly congratulated by such eminent people, I am sure you would at least wish to see the pictures. We have some excellent examples of painting in the chateau. I do assure you that it is a collection worthy of your attention.”
“I am sure it is. But I think I should be getting to my hotel.”
“I don’t recommend it.”
“Oh?”
“It is very small and the food is not of the best. You would be more comfortable in the chateau, I am sure.”
“I should not care to make a nuisance of myself.”
“But of course you would not. I am going to insist that you stay here, and that you now allow me to call the maid to take you to your room.
It has been prepared, you know, although of course we did not know it was to be for a lady. Still, that need not concern you. The maid will bring some food to your room. Then I suggest you rest awhile and later you must see the paintings. “
“Then you mean that you want me to do the work I came to do?”
“You could give us your advice first, could you not?”
I felt so relieved I changed my feelings towards him. The dislike of a moment ago turned to liking.
“I would do my best, Monsieur Ie Comte.”
“You are under a delusion, mademoiselle. I am not the Comte de la Talle.”
I was unable to control my amazement.
“Then who …”
“Philippe de la Talle, the Comte’s cousin. So you see it is not I whom you have to please. It is the Comte de la Talle. He is the one who will decide whether or not he will entrust you with the restoration of
his paintings. I assure you that if the decision rested with me I should ask you to begin without delay.” “When can I see the Comte?”
“He is not at the chateau and will doubtless be absent for some days.
I suggest that you remain with us until his return. In the meantime you can examine the paintings and then be ready to estimate what is needed by the time of his return. “
“Some days!” I said in dismay.
“I fear so.”
As he moved to the bell rope and pulled it, I was thinking: This is a respite. At least I shall have a few days in the chateau.
I guessed my room was close to the keep. The window aperture was large enough to contain two stone benches on either side although it narrowed to a slit. I could only look out by standing on tiptoe; below me was the moat and beyond that the trees and vineyards. I was amused that even as I reviewed the uncertainty of my position I could not stop myself assessing the house and its treasures. Father had been the same. The most important thing in his life had been ancient monuments; the paintings a good second. With me it was paintings first, but I had inherited something of his passion for buildings.
The lofty room was full of shadows even though it was early in the day, for, picturesque as the window embrasure was, it excluded the light. The thickness of the walls astonished me, although I had been prepared for it; the huge tapestry which covered almost the entire surface of one was in muted shades of peacock blue, in fact, peacocks figured in it peacocks in a garden of fountains, colonnades, reclining women and gallants, clearly sixteenth-century. The bed was canopied and behind it was a curtain, and when I drew this aside I recognized what was beyond as a ruelle an alcove found in French chateaux. This one was large enough to be like a small room and contained a cupboard, a hip-bath, and a dressing-table on which stood a mirror. I caught a glimpse of myself and laughed suddenly.
Yes, I did look capable. Almost formidable. I was travel-stained, my hat was pushed too far back on my head so that it was even less becoming than usual; my hair long, thick and straight, my only good point was completely hidden.
The maid had brought the hot water and asked if I would care for cold chicken and a carafe of the vin du pays. I replied that it would suit me admirably; and I was glad when she went, for her obvious curiosity and excitement at my presence was a reminder of what a reckless thing I had done.
I took off my cloak and the unbecoming hat. Then I took out the pins and let my hair fall about my shoulders. How different I looked now not only younger, but vulnerable. Now I could be that frightened girl behind the confident woman I pretended to be. Appearances were important, I must remember. I was proud of my hair. It was dark brown but the touches of chestnut in it were so marked that they shone almost red in sunlight.
I washed from head to foot in the hip-bath and felt refreshed. Then I put on clean linen and a grey merino skirt with a light cashmere blouse of a matching colour. The blouse buttoned high at the neck and I assured myself that in it I could be mistaken for a woman of thirty when I put up my hair, of course. I disliked the grey for I took a great pleasure in colours. I knew instinctively that a certain shade of blue, green or red or lavender would have given character to the grey skirt; but much as I loved combining colours to produce beauty I
had never wanted to experiment with my clothes. The light coats I wore for my work were in dull brown, as plain and severe as those my father had worn in fact I wore his, which were a little too broad but fitted otherwise.
There was a knock on the door as I was buttoning my blouse. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the dressing-table. My cheeks had flushed a little; and with my hair which fell to my waist and spread itself about my shoulders like a cloak, I certainly looked different from the undaunted woman who had been shown into the room.
I called: “Who is there?”
“Mademoiselle, your tray.” The maid had come into the room. I held back my hair with one hand and drew aside the curtain very slightly with the other.
“Please leave it there.”
She put it down and went out. I realized then how hungry I was, so I came out to inspect the tray. A leg of chicken, a twist of crusty bread still warm from the oven, butter, cheese and a carafe of wine. I sat down there and then and ate. It was delicious. The wine of the country, made from the grapes grown within sight of the castle! The food and the wine made me sleepy. Perhaps the latter was very potent; in any case I was tired. I had travelled through the previous day and night; I had slept little the night before that and I had scarcely eaten either.
I felt a dreamy contentment creeping over me. I was here in the chateau for a while at any rate. I was going to see the treasures of the place. I remembered other occasions when I had stayed with Father in great houses. I recalled the excitement of coming upon some rare work of art, that glow of understanding and appreciation which was like sharing in the joy of the Creator. Surely similar experiences were waiting for me in this chateau . if only I could stay to enjoy them.
I closed my eyes and felt the rocking of the train; I thought of the life of the castle and the life outside it. The peasants tending the grape-vines, exulting in the vendange. I wondered whether the
peasant-woman’s child was born and whether it was a boy; I wondered what the Comte’s cousin was thinking of me, or whether he had dismissed me from his mind. I slept and dreamed I was in a picture gallery, that I was cleaning a picture and that the colours which were emerging were more brilliant than any I had ever seen before-emerald against grey scarlet and gold.
King of the Castle Page 2
