HF - 03 - Mistress of Darkness

by Christopher Nicole

  'But... my sister is in town to watch an execution?'

  'Ah, no, madame. She wanted to come, but the master thought better. She is with child, you understand.'

  'Again?'

  Romain smiled at her. 'Is there a more fit state for a woman, madame? But the master is in town. We shall seek him out. No doubt he will be able to secure seats for you and the lads.'

  'But I don't want to watch anyone die’ Sue said. 'And neither do my sons.'

  Romain continued to smile at her. 'You will enjoy it. It takes a long time. We will find Mr. Corbeau in here.'

  The carriage was braking to a stop before a large square building, outside which half a dozen men lounged and gossiped.

  'He will be playing billiards,' Romain explained. 'If you will excuse me ...'

  How strange she felt. As if she had drunk too much wine. Perhaps it was the heady atmosphere of Cap Francois. Or perhaps it was the knowledge that two young, healthy men were about to die in the most horrible way possible, while a crowd laughed at them. Or perhaps it was just because of Louis. She was only sure that to sit still would be to go mad.

  'You will excuse me, Mr. Romain, but I shall fetch him out myself.'

  'But you cannot, madame’ Romain was scandalized. 'Ladies do not enter billiards parlours.'

  Sue smiled at him. 'I sometimes doubt whether I have any right to be called a lady, Mr. Romain.' The door was opened, and she stepped down, and the door of the parlour was also open. Inside was gloomy after the bright sunlight of the street, and the air was heavy with tobacco smoke. There were half a dozen tables, and perhaps a score of men, some playing, sending the clicks of their ivory balls rippling across the murmur of conversation, most leaning on the unused tables as they talked amongst themselves, while Negro waiters circulated with trays of punch. But all talk and all movement stopped with the entrance of the woman.

  'My God,' Corbeau cried. 'Sue?' He hurried across the room, shouldering men out of the way, to take her hands. 'Sue? I am dreaming.'

  She wondered if she was herself. He had put on weight, and the colour of his face had deepened to purple; there was a coarseness about his nose and mouth she had not noticed when they had previously met. Presumably he was approaching forty. But he looked nearer fifty.

  Not that his eyes had changed. They still loomed at her, shrouded her, seemed to caress her flesh. And his grip on her hands was tight. And his touch sent her excitement mounting. Georgiana possessed this, every night. 'You are looking magnificent,' he said. 'But then, you always do. Christophe. Christophe. Punch. Of course my dear, you should not be in here. A perfect den of iniquity. I promise you.'

  She turned her smile on the Negro who held the tray, and paused in surprise. Unlike most of his people, he seemed quite prepared to meet her eye, and indeed returned her stare. And he was a big man, taller than Matt and with a splendid pair of shoulders, topped by a handsome, resolute face.

  'Your punch, madame,' he said, amazingly in English.

  She took the mug slowly.

  'Ah, begone with you,' Corbeau snapped, also taking a mug. 'He is an insolent rogue.' 'He spoke English,' she said.

  'He hails from St. Kitts or Grenada, or some such place. But he served as a servant to a French officer during the American War, and has ideas above his station. Were he mine, I'd have the skin from his back.' He drank. 'I wish you had written.'

  'I wanted to surprise you.' She looked past him, at the men who were still gazing at them. 'Am I not to be introduced to your friends?'

  He finished his drink, and the sweat stood out on his forehead. 'No. No. They are not for you. We'll away to Rio Blanco. Georgy will be so happy to see you. So happy. Christophe, my hat.'

  'I must write a letter,' Sue said. Without warning she was afraid, but of herself. 'There has been some revolt, I understand.'

  'Oh, indeed,' Corbeau said. 'The mulattoes took it into their heads that they would be our masters. But we rapidly disabused them of that idea.'

  'So I have been learning. But the news will spread to Jamaica. Robert and Matt will be worried.'

  'I will write them,' Corbeau declared. 'And tell them there in no cause. You will be here to rest, and enjoy yourself. Not write letters. Christophe. Christophe. Where is that black devil?'

  'I am here, Mr. Corbeau,' said the slave, holding out the hat and the cane.

  'Aye. Listening on your betters,' Corbeau grumbled. 'Come on, Sue, sweetheart. Let us leave town. Romain. Romain.'

  The attorney came hurrying into the room.

  'I am taking Mistress Huys to Rio Blanco,' Corbeau said. 'You had best remain. Seek out Madame de Morain, and explain, will you. Hire a coach for her return, and see to it yourself.'

  Romain bowed, and left again.

  'I do not mean to interrupt you, Louis,' Sue said, smiling at him.

  'Nor do you. Angelique is just our neighbour. You shall meet her by and by. We often share a ride to and from town. Now let us be off.'

  Sue paused in the doorway and looked over her shoulder. Christophe stared at her.

  'It's absolutely marvellous,' Sue cried. She gave her hand to Francois-Pierre, and stepped down from the carriage. 'It's a castle, Mama, a castle,' Tony shouted.

  Dick stood and stared with his mouth open.

  'And for too long it has needed only to be graced by such beauty,' Corbeau said.

  She glanced at him. 'My dear Louis, you are too blatant a flatterer.'

  "Not I, Sue. Not I. I speak the truth. Francois-Pierre, you'll send a maid to madame's apartment. Tell her I have a surprise for her. And tell the children to join me downstairs.' He took Sue's arm, escorted her up the marble staircase towards the portico.

  'And Georgy has her own apartments?' Sue asked. 'Why, there'll be no speaking with her.'

  'But you will also have your own apartments, Sue,' Corbeau said.

  Once again she gave him a quick glance. 'I am not here to retire for life, Louis. I have come for a season. As I told you, it is only a matter of avoiding unpleasantness until the Hodge trial is over and done with. If I am going to be any sort of a nuisance, I will take rooms in Cap Francois.'

  The fingers on her arm tightened. 'A nuisance Sue? You? You are a dream come true.'

  For just a moment his voice, and his face, were absolutely serious. And hers? She turned away in some confusion, hurried forward to greet the two children who came slowly and shyly down the great staircase.

  'How lovely they are.'

  'They are Corbeaux,' Corbeau said. 'Francis. Oriole. This is your Aunt Suzanne.'

  The boy bowed, very gravely and took her hand; and he cannot be four, she thought. The girl, a year younger, curtsied, skirts held with all the dignified grace of a great lady. But then, Sue realized, she is going to be a great lady, on a scale unimaginable in Jamaica.

  'And these are your cousins, Anthony and Richard,' Corbeau said. 'Take them along to the playroom, Mademoiselle Tantan.'

  The woman who had followed the French children down the stairs, tall and thin and middle-aged, with a severe expression, bowed. 'Welcome to Rio Blanco, madame,' she said to Sue. 'Come along, children.'

  A liveried footman was opening a door set in the high wall facing the staircase, and Sue followed Corbeau inside. The door closed sofdy behind her, and she found herself in a rose-coloured parlour, quiet and cool, with gauze netting over the windows to repel insects. A fan turned in the ceiling.

  'It is operated by a boy in the room beyond,' Corbeau explained. 'It is my private sanctuary, where I sit, and think, and dream. Of you.'

  'You did not know I was coming,' she pointed out. 'So your dreams must have been of someone else.'

  'Quite the contrary,' he insisted. 'I have long dreamed of you here, in Rio Blanco. A proper setting, I think, for the loveliest woman I have ever known. I am beside myself with joy.'

  'Indeed you are,' she agreed. 'Were you not my brother-in-law I'd feel positively unsafe. I wonder where Georgy can be?'

  'I think I hear her.' Corbeau p
ulled the bell-cord.

  The door burst open. 'Sue? You? Well, well, well.'

  Sue stared at her sister in total amazement. Georgiana was several months pregnant, but even so there was very little suggestion of the slim girl she had once known, as lively and effervescent as a bouncing ball. Or even, she realized, of a grand dame of just thirty. Here was a fat dowager, whose pale brown hair straggled, whose once fine features were dissolved in rolls of fat ending in three chins, who waddled rather than walked, and whose expression, always undecided between bubbling humour and impatient rancour, had finally dissolved into petulance. Nor did she look the least pleased to see her sister.

  'Why, Georgy,' she said. 'How lovely to see you, after all these years.'

  'All these years,' Georgiana remarked, and sniffed. 'My dear, Matt must be poorer than ever. You looked positively starved. Louis, if I don't have a drink I shall be very bad-tempered.'

  'I have rung for the punch, my sweet,' Corbeau said.

  'And what are you doing here?' Georgiana demanded. 'Has Robert finally thrown you out, or have you come to see for yourself?'

  'I'm afraid I don't understand,' Sue said. 'Except that I am apparently not welcome...'

  'Oh, what rubbish,' Corbeau declared. 'Have I not spent the last hour telling you just how welcome you are?'

  Georgiana laughed. It was an unpleasant sound. 'Hasn't he got his hands between your legs yet? Oh, don't trouble to deny it. And what did you do with Angelique? Or did she ride with you?'

  ‘Your punch is here,' Corbeau said, a trifle wearily. 'We may as well have some too, Sue.'

  He took the goblets from the tray, and held one out. But Sue did not take it.

  'I really feel I had better stay in town,' she said. 'It is only for a short while.'

  'I'll not have it,' Corbeau insisted. 'Georgy welcome your sister, or by God I'll take my belt to you.'

  Georgiana glanced at him, the ill humour seeming to ooze from her shoulders like sweat. 'He will, you know, Sue. He will. My child will be born with stripes.'

  'Really, I ...'

  'You are staying here, and there's an end to the matter,' Corbeau said. 'It will be splendid, having you both under the same roof.'

  'You never wrote,' Georgiana muttered, her voice toneless. 'All those years, all those letters, and you never wrote.' She drank her punch noisily, and the footman, who had remained standing like a statue in the corner of the room, hastily offered another goblet.

  'I wrote every month,' Sue said. 'Until I realized you were not going to answer. Even then, I wrote at least twice a year.'

  ‘You... you liar,' Georgiana shouted.

  Corbeau smiled. 'Now really. Whenever two Hiltons get together there is a shouting competition.'

  'She never wrote,' Georgiana shouted. 'Did she, Louis? Did she?'

  'Of course she did,' Corbeau said. 'But I did not think you were always in a suitable frame of mind to read Sue's letters.'

  'You kept them from her?' Sue asked. 'But...'

  'You wretch,' Georgiana shouted, and burst into tears. 'Oh, you wretch. I'm a prisoner, you know, Sue. I could as well be wearing chains. I ... my God, I'll skin that nigger woman. What of my letters?'

  'Why, Gislane delivered them to me, of course,' Corbeau said. 'But you have not met Gislane, Sue. I'm sure she is lurking in the hall. She is usually close to Georgiana.'

  'Gislane?' Sue asked. 'Now there is a strange coincidence.'

  Georgiana stopped crying and began to laugh.

  'No coincidence,' Corbeau said. 'Gislane, come in here.'

  There was a moment's hesitation, then the mustee stepped into the room.

  'Mistress Suzanne Huys, Miss Gislane Nicholson,' Corbeau said.

  Sue stared at the girl in consternation. 'Gislane Nicholson?' she whispered.

  The mustee's face was as beautiful, as impassive, as a painting. Only the black eyes moved, from the woman in front of her to Corbeau, and then back again.

  Corbeau smiled. 'Mistress Huys lives with Matthew Hilton,' he said. 'She will be his wife. One presumes.'

  Gislane's lips parted, just a little, and then closed again.

  Georgiana sent peal after peal of laughter racing to the ceiling. 'You'll have lots to talk about,' she shouted. 'Oh, lots.'

  Sue had recovered her composure. 'I am sure we shall, Miss Nicholson,' she said. 'I look forward to it.' She glanced at Corbeau. 'Is she also a part of your establishment?'

  'Of course.' He jerked his head. 'Now begone, both of you. I believe madame has something to reproach you with, Gislane. She has just discovered that you have been purloining her letters, instead of sending them on. Oh, she is very angry with you. Be careful you do not turn your back on her.'

  'You ... you bastard,' Georgiana hissed.

  'Come along, madame,' Gislane said.

  Georgiana hesitated, looked from her husband to her sister, an expression of almost childlike humility on her face, and then turned and followed the mustee from the room. The footman placed the tray of goblets on a table, and also left, closing the door softly behind him.

  'You have lots of time to talk with Georgy,' Corbeau said. 'For this evening I wish to enjoy you, all by myself.'

  Once again he held out the punch.

  'That girl,' Sue said. 'You keep her here, with Georgy? But do you not know...'

  'Of course I do. That is what makes it so amusing. And they really get on very well. And so will you. You'd never met her, had you? She is lovely, don't you think? You are the only woman who can stand beside her. And you can tell her about Matt.'

  Sue gazed at him, her desire melting into disgust. 'I think I shall leave,' she decided. 'It would be best, in the circumstances. But I should be very obliged if you would permit Georgy to visit me in Cap Francois. I imagine that even in her condition she could manage the journey, were the coach to travel slowly. And I am sure we have much to say to each other. Much that we have already said, perhaps, without being able to reach each other.'

  Corbeau smiled at her. 'When you are angry, you are the most beautiful creature in the world. So tell me, my sweet. After you have had your chat with Georgy. What will you do?'

  ‘I shall return to Jamaica. I told you, Matt and Robert only wanted me out of the way while the trial was in progress.'

  'And no doubt you will tell Matt and Robert everything that you have seen here?'

  ‘I have no doubt they will be interested,' Sue said.

  'And what will they do then? Do you think Robert will come to St. Domingue, because my wife has turned into a lecherous, drunken cabbage? That is my misfortune. Oh, Robert might suppose that I was perhaps to blame. What then? Will he come here, pistol in hand? Robert is past fifty, Sue. I would kill him. Then what of Matt? Will he come here, seeking to regain his Gislane? Would you really want that to happen? Seeking to regain you? He shall, in time. And his children. But should he come uninvited, be sure I would kill him as well.'

  She gazed at him, the coolness of her expression masking the tumult in her chest. ‘I wonder if you are quite sane,' she said. ‘I wonder if too many years of living like a king have not made you suppose you are a king.'

  He raised his goblet to her. 'Then share my throne. At least for a while, Sue. If I am mad, it is at the sight of you again, after all of these years. Do you know, I fell in love with you, the first time I ever saw you, deep in the bowels of that English warship. I lay there, panting for life, and you stood but inches away, washing smoke from your body.'

  'You remember that?'

  'It has been a secret of mine, Sue. I fell in love with you then, and I have remained in love with you, ever since. Oh, I had to make do with a substitute. But no longer. And now I shall tell you some secrets of my own. My philosophy, for a start. In my public life, I sacrifice everything, or anything, or anyone, to my honour. But you will have no part of my public life ...'

  The sound of music filtered upwards, through even the vastness of the house. It was late spring, and the strong sea breezes had not yet
begun to blow; the noise travelled without distortion, an even boom of rhythm. Georgiana lay on her bed and wept, cried with great sobs and heaves of her trembling shoulders.

  'I am sorry,' Suzanne said. 'Truly sorry, Georgy. But the invitations were apparently sent before I could protest.'

  Her sister raised her head, gazed at the ice-pink ball gown, shoulderless and slashed in a deep decolletage, which only seemed to make the golden splendour above the more radiant. 'And the gown?' she cried. 'They did not have to fit the gown?'

  Sue bit her lip. 'I ... you'll understand I have to humour him. Until I can think of what to do.'

  'Humour him,' Georgiana said disgustedly. 'You'll pretend he has not had you to bed?'

  'He has not laid a hand on other than my arm,' Sue said. 'Although of course I am aware of his intention. Hence I must pretend that I need an unusual amount of coaxing.'