“Ah,” said my father, ‘there is the perfect gentleman. “
I agreed.
I said: “Father, I don’t know how we are going to deceive this Baron.
It is going to be difficult. And if he discovers what we are doing, he will be most unpleasant I am sure. “
“Well, let’s look at it this way,” said my father.
“He can only send us back to England and refuse to have the miniature. If he does that it will be because he knows nothing about art. Your miniature will be every bit as expert as anything I can do. He’ll get a Collison, so he’ll have nothing to complain about. Don’t worry. If he sends us back . then we shall have to think what we are going to do in the future.”
When we were ready, Bertrand arrived. He said he had come to take us down.
That was very thoughtful of him. He must have guessed that my first encounter with the Baron had been disturbing.
“The Baron is so used to everyone agreeing with him immediately,” he said by way of explaining the Baron’s manner.
“And he clearly does not like it when they do not.”
“I think it is more astonishment than anything else. In any case, you can stand up to him. After all, your father is the well-known Kendal Collison. I think the Baron will have a great respect for him. He really does admire artists.”
“And clearly does not admire their daughters.”
“Oh … he was quite amused.”
“He has a strange way of showing amusement. In any case I am not sure that I like being a figure of fun.”
“You will do very well. Do not let him see … how do you say it? that he rattles you? If he realizes that he does he will try it all the more to discountenance you.”
“A most unpleasant character.”
“He would agree with you on that.”
“He’s a throw-back to a different century from this,” I said.
“Fortunately we have moved forward into civilization.”
Bertrand laughed.
“How vehement you are. He was not so bad, was he? I think you take too much interest in this Baron.”
“I have to …” I paused. I was going to say ‘if I am going to paint a picture of him’. I finished lamely . ‘to help my father. “
My father had come out of his room. He looked frail and I was filled with the urgent need to protect him. If the Baron slighted him in the smallest way, I should definitely tell the man what I thought of him.
The Baron was already in the room with the painted ceiling and with him was a woman. I was struck immediately by her appearance. At first I thought she was a great beauty, but I realized as the evening progressed that she owed that impression to her gestures, her clothes and the manner in which she wore them, to her poise and sophisticated manners. She was the sort of woman who could put on beauty as one might a piece of jewellery. It was an illusion but a clever one. Her mouth was too large, her eyes too small and her nose too short for beauty. and yet she exuded that soignee, chic and really beautiful impression.
The Baron turned to greet us. He wore a dark blue velvet dinner-jacket and very white linen. He looked very elegant. I felt my green velvet was somewhat outmoded, and it no longer did for me the things it did at Farringdon Manor.
“Ah,” said the Baron, ‘here is the artist. You are indeed welcome, sir, and we are honoured to have you with us. Nicole, this is Monsieur Kendal Collison and his daughter, Mademoiselle Collison. They have honoured us . you know for what purpose. Mademoiselle Collison and I have met already. Oh briefly . too briefly. My dear Monsieur and Mademoiselle Collison, allow me to present Madame St. Giles. “
I was looking into that beautiful face. The small dark eyes were friendly, I thought, and if she made me feel gauche and unattractive, that was not her fault. I did not dislike her as I did the Baron.
“Bertrand, I think we should go in to dinner,” said the Baron.
“Yes,” said Bertrand and gave Madame St. Giles his arm. The Baron took mine.
I was startled. I had not expected this formality, and I found close proximity to the Baron something which repelled me.
Oddly enough, I think he knew that I was shrinking from him and disliked laying my hand even on his coat sleeve.
He looked over his shoulder at my father.
“Alas, Monsieur Collison,” he said, ‘we have no lady for you. Well, you are the guest of honour so that is your compensation. “
My father said it was a great pleasure to be here and the Baron was too kind.
I thought grimly: We will wait and see if that is so.
Dinner was an elaborate meal-more so than it had been on the previous night, but not nearly so enjoyable. This was due to the Baron’s presence.
The conversation, out of deference to my father, generally concerned art.
“My father was a collector,” the Baron told us, ‘and he taught me to follow in his footsteps. I have always had a strong appreciation of the creative arts . whether it be in literature, sculpture, music, or painting . I have always believed in absolute honesty regarding them. I know you will agree with me, Monsieur Collison. All great artists must. I do not like because I am told I must like. A work of art must please me. I think it is a disservice to art to abandon honesty for the sake of being in the fashion. I like a work of art for what it means to me . not for the signature in the corner if it is a picture, or on the cover of a book if it is literature. “
I couldn’t help applauding this sentiment. I would remind him of it if he were to discover I, a woman, had painted his portrait-that would be after he had expressed approval of it, of course.
“You are quite right, Baron,” said Madame St. Giles.
“I could not agree more.”
He looked at her mischievously.
“In your case, Nicole, it might be wiser to take note of the name of the artist … because, my dear, I’m afraid you lack the judgement to decide for yourself Nicole laughed.
“The Baron is right, you know,” she said, looking at me and my father.
“You will find me a complete ignoramus. One virtue I have, though. I am aware of my ignorance. So many people are completely oblivious of theirs. Now this is a virtue, is it not?”
“A very great one,” said the Baron.
“Ah, if only everyone had your good sense.”
“But who is to say whose judgement is to be respected?” I asked.
“There is a saying in my country that ” Good taste is what I have. Bad taste is what everyone else has who does not agree with me. “
“I see we have a philosopher here,” said the Baron, fixing me with his cold grey eyes.
“Answer that if you can, Nicole, for I cannot attack such logic.”
Then he talked to my father. We would start the portrait the following morning. He was anxious to get it completed quickly and could not stay long at the castle. He had business in Paris.
“A work of art cannot be hurried,” I said.
“I see now why you have brought your daughter with you,” retorted the Baron.
“She is going to keep us all in good order.”
“Oh, Kate is very useful to me,” said my father.
“I have come to rely on her.”
“Everyone should have someone on whom he or she can. rely. Don’t you agree, Nicole? Mademoiselle Collison? Bertrand?”
Bertrand said that it was comforting.
Madame St. Giles said it was necessary.
I said I thought that one should be self reliant if that were possible.
“As you are, Mademoiselle Collison, I see. How do you work, Monsieur Collison? I did so admire the miniature you did of the Grafvon Engheim. I saw it when I was in Bavaria. In fact it was what decided me that I would ask you to execute this commission for me.”
“The Gratis a charming man,” said my father.
“It was &’ very pleasant stay in the Black Forest. What an enchanting^ place that is. I shall never forget it.” j “I liked, too, the one y
ou did of the Grafin. You made her look like a princess of romance.”
“A beautiful woman …”
“I thought her features very irregular.”
“An inner beauty,” mused my father.
“Difficult to define in words.”
“But you captured it in paint. An ether al quality … yes. It gave a suggestion of goodness. A lovely piece of work. I can tell you the Graf was delighted. He showed it to me with great pride.”
My father beamed with pleasure.
“I hope that you will be equally pleased, Baron,” he said.
“I must be. I want the best you have ever done. My Collison must be supreme. I already have one Collison in my collection. You must see my miniatures. This one dates back … according to the costume … to the mid-seventeenth century. I fancy it was painted just after that time when the Roundheads were making such havoc in your country … as the mob did for us not so long ago. That miniature is one of my most highly prized.”
“Do you know who the subject is?”
“No. It is just called An Unknown Woman. But there is the distinctive KC. in the corner. We had difficulty in finding it but I knew it was a Collison by the style. Having seen your daughter, I have come to the conclusion that it is a picture of a member of the family. There is a resemblance. Colouring and a certain’ he paused and I could not read the expression in his eyes ‘je ne sais quoi… But I have always been aware of it.”
“I very much look forward to seeing that,” said my father.
“You shall. You most certainly shall.”
I was excited by the talk of art and his obvious knowledge. I was most eager to learn as much as I could about him and I felt I was not doing too badly. I knew that he was arrogant, rich, powerful, that he had always had his own way and planned to go on doing just that. He was knowledgeable about art and had a real feeling for it. It would be almost impossible to deceive him, I was sure. I was eager to talk with my father as to how we should deal with this difficult situation and the thought that it would begin the next morning filled me with apprehension.
When we rose from the dining table we went back to the room with the painted ceiling. Liqueurs were served there; I found the drink sweet and pleasant.
After a while the Baron said: “Monsieur Collison is tired, I see.
Bertrand, you will conduct him to his room. Mademoiselle Collison, I see that you are not tired. You would, I am sure, prefer to remain and chat a while. “
I said that was so, and Bertrand took my father to his room, leaving me alone with the Baron and Madame St. Giles.
“Tomorrow,” he said, looking at me, “I shall show you my treasures.
Have you explored the castle yet? “
“Monsieur de Mortemer has been very good. He has shown me a little.”
The Baron snapped his fingers.
“Bertrand has not the feeling for the castle … wouldn’t you say so, Nicole?”
“Well, it is yours, isn’t it? He, like the rest of us, is but a guest here.”
The Baron patted Nicole’s knee rather affectionately. I thought he must be on very familiar terms with her.
“Well, Mademoiselle Collison,” he said, ‘you know how it is. This is my home. It is built by my ancestor and is one of the first the Normans built in France. There were Centevilles living here from the early days when Great Rollo came harrying the coast of France, with such success that the French King said that the only way to stop this perpetual harassment is to give these invaders a corner of France, which he did. And there was Normandy. Never make the mistake of thinking we are French. We are not. We are the Norsemen come to France from the magnificent fjords. “
“The French were a very cultivated people when the savage Norsemen came in their long ships looking for conquest,” I reminded him.
“But the Normans were fighters, Mademoiselle Collison. They were the unvanquished. And Centeville Castle was here at the time our great William the Duke conquered you English and forced you to submit to Norman rule.”
“The Normans won on that occasion,” I said, ‘because King Harold had just come down to the south after winning a victory in the north. If he had been fresh for the fight, the victory might have gone the other way. Moreover, you say you defeated the English. The English of today are a mixed race. Angles, Saxons, Jutes, Romans . and yes, even glorious Normans. So it seems to me a little misplaced to crow over the victory of William all those years ago. “
“You see how Mademoiselle Collison corrects me, Nicole.”
“I am delighted that she puts forward such a good case against you, Rollo.”
Rollo! I thought. So that is his name. I must have shown my surprise for he went on: “Yes, I am Rollo. Named after the first Norman to turn this corner of France into Normandy. His battle cry was ” Ha! Rollo! ”
And it continued to be the Norman battle cry for centuries. “
“It is no longer in use, I trust.”
I could not understand this impulse in me to attack him at every turn.
It was most unwise since we had to try to please him; and here I was antagonizing him before we began.
But he did not look displeased. He was actually smiling, and it occurred to me that he was enjoying the conversation. I was being as unpleasant as I could without being rude. How strange that he-who was used to sycophants-should not object. It must be because it was so rarely that anyone stood out against him.
But Nicole was by no means a sycophant. Perhaps that was why he liked her as he obviously did.
Bertrand had returned.
He said to me: “Perhaps you would like to take a walk in the grounds before retiring for the night?”
I rose with alacrity.
“That would be delightful,” I said.
“You need a wrap. Shall I go and get one?”
“Take mine,” said Nicole.
“It will save a journey up to your room. I don’t need it.”
She handed me a scrap of chiffon which seemed to take its colour from whatever it covered. It was decorated with a border of sequinned stars.
“Oh.. thank you,” I said. “It looks too… pretty. I should be afraid to harm it.”
“Nonsense,” said Nicole coming to me, and herself put it round my shoulders. I thought she was very charming.
Bertrand and I went out through the courtyard to the moat.
“Well, what did you think of the Baron?” he asked.
“It’s rather too big a question to answer briefly,” I said.
“It’s like confronting someone with the Niagara Fails and asking for an immediate opinion.”
“He would be amused to hear himself compared with them.”
“I would say he is very conscious of his power and wants everyone else to be too.”
“Yes,” agreed Bertrand.
“He likes us to recognize that and to do exactly as he wants us to.”
“Which is all right as long as it coincides with what one wants oneself.”
“You are perceptive, Mademoiselle. That is exactly how it has been for me so far.”
“Then,” I said, ‘you must be prepared for the day when it is not. I thought Madame St. Giles charming. “
“She is considered to be one of the most attractive women in society.
Her association with Rollo has lasted for several years. “
“Her… association!”
“Oh! Did you not guess? She is his mistress.”
“But,” I began faintly, “I thought he was going to be married to this Princesse.”
“He is. I suppose it will have to end with Nicole then … or perhaps there will be just a lull. She’s prepared for that. She’s a woman of the world.”
I was silent.
He laid his hand on my arm.
“I’m afraid you are rather shocked. Did you not know that there was this relationship?”
“I’m afraid I’m rather unworldly. Nicole … she doesn’t seem to be upset.”
&nbs
p; “Oh no. She always understood that there would come a time when he would marry. He has several mistresses, but Nicole was always the chief.”
I shivered beneath Nicole’s wrap. His hands would have been on that chiffon, I thought. I pictured him with Nicole . sensuous . cynical . It was a horrible picture. I did not want to paint that miniature. I realized that one could learn too much about a subject.
The next morning our ordeal began. I arranged a chair for the Baron where the strong light fell on his face. My father sat opposite him.
We had decided that the support should be ivory which had proved to be ideal since the beginning of the eighteenth century. I sat in a corner watching. I was memorizing every line of his face: the sensuous lips which could be cruel, the rather magnificent high brow and the strong blonde hair springing from his head.
He had told us that the completed miniature would be set in gold and the frame should be studded with diamonds and sapphires. For that reason he wore a blue coat and it certainly accentuated his colouring; it even put a hint of blue into the grey eyes.
My fingers itched to hold the brush. I was deeply aware of my father. He worked quietly and without apparent tension. I wondered whether he was aware of how much he could not see.
This morning would tell us a great deal whether it was possible to carry out this plan or not. I was not sure what sort of miniature I could do from memory or from my father’s work. I was sure I could have made a superb portrait if I could have gone about it in the normal way. I would bring out his arrogance. I would capture that look which suggested that the whole world was his. I would paint in a little of the animosity I felt towards him. I would make a portrait which was absolutely him . and he might not like it.
He talked while my father worked and mainly to me.
Had I been to the Bavarian Court with my father? I told him I had not.
He raised his eyebrows as though asking:
Why not, since you came to Normandy?
“Then you did not see the picture of the Grafin and her inner beauty?”
“I very much regret not having seen it.”
“I feel I have met you before. It must be in the miniature of the Unknown Woman. I suddenly feel she is unknown no longer.”
The Demon Lover Page 6
