Brilliance (5 page)

‘That could never happen,’ Lisette answered confidently. ‘Don’t forget how long it is since I first met him.’

‘That doesn’t count at all. I just think we should enjoy this time of being young and free. I’m not marrying anyone until I’m thirty at the earliest.’

Lisette sighed. ‘You always have weighed up everything before making a decision. In any case Isabelle has refused to let us marry until next June when the year of official mourning for Papa is over. So I’ll be well over eighteen by that time, but if anybody else wants to come into my life before my wedding day then he’ll have plenty of time to do it.’

Joanna knew it was highly unlikely that would happen, for from now on Lisette and Philippe would be invited everywhere as an engaged couple.

Winter passed with many social events. Bicycling had long since become the latest craze with people of all ages, Lisette having first learnt under the instruction of her grandmother who, in plaid bloomers and with a veil anchoring her bicycling hat, had been an enthusiast of what she considered to be a very health-giving sport. Now Lisette and Philippe often set out on their machines with twenty or more of their friends on bicycles too. Magic lantern shows were also popular with people of all ages, performances usually held in a hired room or public hall, and often lanternists gave the entertainment of the evening at parties. It was whispered that ‘naughty slides’ were sometimes shown at private all-male gatherings, but nobody among Lisette and Joanna’s girlfriends knew for sure. Not even the boldest among them would ask any of the young men in their circle, and those with brothers old enough were either told to shut up or to mind their own business.

Lisette liked dancing best of all. Although she would have a number of different names filling every space in a little dance programme dangling by a ribbon from her wrist, she always saved the supper dance and the last waltz for Philippe. They came together with secret smiles of reunion and he swept her away to the music.

At New Year Lisette’s eighteenth birthday, being so early in the month of January, became a combined celebration with the arrival of the year 1894. Isabelle had allowed Lisette, because of her youth, to emerge from mourning clothes into paler colours for the past six months, although in her own role as widow she had felt compelled to follow convention. But this evening, unable to endure mourning black any longer, she had put away her jet jewellery and appeared in the first of her purple gowns, this one of satin that flattered her figure and from which her bosom rose in creamy splendour to display her most colourful jewels. By the time the wedding drew near she would be in shades of lilac, but on the day itself she intended to look glorious in cream silk ornamented with gold beading. She saw herself outshining the bride and everyone else, making the impact of her coming out of mourning as sensational as Venus rising from the sea. She was as happy as a prisoner seeing the day of liberation ahead.

It soon became apparent to Lisette that Isabelle intended to make the wedding a great social occasion with many guests, which was why she had wanted the period of mourning to be over first. Philippe lent a sympathetic but amused ear to Lisette’s exasperated comments.

‘She has allowed me to choose my own bridesmaids, but that is all. Fortunately dear old Monsieur Worth listened to me when I said I just wanted a simple wedding gown with a lovely line to it, because Isabelle had picked out the fussiest of designs that would not have suited me at all. People are coming to the château all the time to talk to her about floral decorations indoors there and at the church. Droves of caterers and other suppliers are appearing all the time. There’s to be an orchestra on the lawn and then to end the day an open air ball with Chinese lanterns and everything else. How I wish we could just elope!’

He laughed. ‘So do I, but that would create a scandal for your stepmother. We couldn’t inflict that on her.’

‘You’re right,’ she agreed resignedly.

They were to have a honeymoon cruising on Philippe’s new yacht in the Mediterranean. As it had a crew they could spend all their time together and he planned to take her ashore to see various places of interest. Afterwards they would live in his Paris house just off the Champs Elysées where decorators were soon to finish their work.

The first time Philippe took Lisette there Joanna was with them, for Isabelle would not allow them ever to be on their own. Lisette, although she often privately resented the presence of a third person, thought it was probably just as well. Being so much in love, she could not be sure if she would be able to resist any amorous persuasion from Philippe if ever the right circumstances prevailed. More than once in a shadowed alcove or if they were hidden by a conservatory’s palms he had managed to slip his hand into her décolletage and she had thought she would swoon in sensual pleasure as he fondled her breast while his lips travelled deliciously over her throat.

She had wanted to like her future home and was sure that she would when all the protective dust sheets were removed and the decorators’ ladders and paint pots and pasting boards were cleared away. Unfortunately not even bright sunshine made it feel welcoming at the moment and the unsmiling portraits of Philippe’s ancestors on the wall following the grand staircase seemed to glower down at her.

‘Are those portraits going to stay there after the redecoration of the hall?’ she asked.

Philippe glanced in their direction. ‘They are a gloomy lot, aren’t they? I’m so used to those paintings that I don’t really see them any more. But if you like we can shove them all into the gallery. There’s plenty of hanging space. Now let me show you upstairs.’

She beamed at his thoughtfulness as she and Joanna followed him. There was nothing he would not do for her happiness.

The week of the wedding came at last with all the long-standing arrangements beginning to fall into place. Isabelle, who was in full control, told Lisette to spend the last week before the ceremony at home.

‘Philippe must keep away now until you meet him again at the altar.’

Lisette agreed, for there was much she had to do. Three of her former schoolfriends, coming from a distance, would be arriving soon to be her bridesmaids and she wanted to spend some time with them. Joanna was in England on a visit with her mother, but would return the day before the wedding in time to be chief bridesmaid.

On the eve of their temporary separation, Lisette and Philippe went with friends to the last performance of a travelling magic lantern show. There had been posters advertising it everywhere for the past two weeks:

Lisette and her friends had heard good reports of the performance and were eager to see it. Apparently the lanternist was English and had sound effects to some of his slides that made them entirely realistic. An elderly cousin, addressed as Cousin Madeleine, who had already arrived to stay at the château for the wedding, was persuaded by Isabelle to go with them as chaperone, she herself having neither the time nor the inclination.

Philippe, who had obtained the tickets, organized everybody into their carriages and then Lisette sat beside him in his handsome crimson gig as he took the reins. He signalled with his whip.

‘Here we go!’ he announced. Then they all set off together from the château to ride the short distance through the countryside to the outskirts of Paris where the performance had been playing to packed houses in a rented hall.

There was a great deal of chatter and laughter as they all took their seats on benches. The lanternist was a tall, strongly shouldered young man in his mid-twenties with thick, brown hair, chiselled features and a very worldly mouth. His clear grey eyes under peaked brows were alert and intelligent. He bowed to his audience and spoke in faultless French.

‘Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. It gives me great pleasure to welcome you all here this evening to my last performance in Paris for this year. I have been touring the suburbs, but later tonight I’ll be setting off for a wider tour that will last throughout the rest of the summer. I trust you will enjoy this performance enough to make you want to come back for an entirely new show next year.’ He bowed again to the applause. ‘Now I ask those gentlemen seated at the end of a bench if they would be kind enough to lower the wall gas lamps and then the show can commence.’

As this was done he went to stand behind his lantern and the first slide was projected on to the screen. A superb entertainment followed. Much of it was entirely new to the audience, and an assistant behind the screen arranged the much-heralded sound effects, such as setting off exploding caps as a background to the slides of fireworks, each magically changing colour. When the slides depicted a burning building, the flames glowed red and seemed to flicker, a rustling behind the screens giving the effect of a conflagration really taking hold with increased intensity. A clanging bell announced the arrival of the horse-drawn fire engine accompanied by the clop of galloping hooves, drawing spontaneous applause from the audience. Amusing slides of clowns, a grimacing pop-eyed washerwoman and an angry gendarme had everyone laughing.

A sequence of slides, which brought even louder gusts of laughter, followed the antics of one of the new horseless carriages as it rebelled against its owner, who floundered about in his goggles, cap and long dustcoat. He had to chase it through many hilarious scenes until finally the two of them disappeared into the distance. Other sequences followed, but the one most popular with Lisette and the other girls was a romantic one showing a soldier having to leave his sweetheart to go bravely off to war, followed by battle scenes with thunderous cannon fire in which he could be seen fighting until finally falling as though killed. Several of the young women in the party wiped their eyes in sympathy with the weeping heroine when a messenger delivered the news. But all was well at the end when the hero reappeared with a bandage around his head to take her into his arms once again. A patriotic slide of the president and the national flag closed the performance.

There was enthusiastic applause that seemed as if it would never stop. The lanternist came to take a bow and then held up his hand for silence in order to make an announcement.

‘When every seat in the hall was taken this evening I had to close the doors on a number of people wishing to come in. However, I said that if they could be patient, I would delay my departure long enough to put on an extra late night show to accommodate them.’ He smiled at the applause for his magnanimity. ‘Word must have been passed around, because my assistant has informed me that the number of those waiting has trebled. So, ladies and gentlemen, I request that you all leave by the side door to avoid a crush at the main entrance. Thank you.’

Philippe escorted Lisette and the chaperone back to the château, the others in their party going their separate ways. As Cousin Madeleine went indoors, Philippe stood facing Lisette, looking deeply into her eyes. There was a full moon and its intense silvery light illumined their faces as they gazed at each other.

‘Next time we meet it will be to become husband and wife,’ he said quietly. They exchanged a long and loving kiss. Then Cousin Madeleine, realizing that she had not been followed, called shrilly for Lisette to come in at once.

She obeyed, but stayed framed in the arched entrance of the doorway to watch Philippe drive away before turning into the marble-floored entrance hall. Cousin Madeleine, who had waited, bade her goodnight from the stairs. The château was very quiet and Lisette guessed Isabelle had already retired.

As she mounted the stairs a footman went to bolt the doors, which was his last task for the day. In her bedroom Berthe was waiting to help her undress, but she did not feel like going to bed yet. She was so full of excitement and happiness that she would never be able to sleep.

‘You go to bed, Berthe,’ she said. ‘I can manage on my own. I just don’t feel at all sleepy yet.’

‘Very good, mam’selle.’

The maid left her and she was glad to be alone. The window was open and she went across to lean her arms on the sill and breathe in the warm still air. It was not a night for sleeping with the moon like a luminous ball and the park full of gentle, velvety shadows. With such pent-up restlessness in her she yearned to wander along its peaceful, winding paths until she felt calmer and she could return to collapse on to her bed in instant sleep.

She would do that! Swiftly she opened her bedroom door and listened. All was silent. She made no sound as she tiptoed down the grand staircase, although two or three of the stairs creaked and she made a mental note to avoid them on the way back. Leaving the hall, she went along a corridor that led to a side door. To her surprise it was not bolted, which was a serious oversight by the footman on duty, but she threw it open to step outside.

Not wanting to risk a chance sighting from the château, she kept to the shelter of box hedges until she came to her favourite paths. The night was full of little sounds. Rustling and scuttling from tiny night-time creatures. By the lake frogs were croaking and the floating flowers seem to cup the moonlight in their depths. Everything looked so beautiful. On the grassy bank she leaned forward and could see herself reflected on the mirror-like surface.

Then she straightened quickly, hearing other sounds, which she had never heard before, coming from the summerhouse. She turned along the path that led to it. Then her heart exploded with pain and she stood immobilized by shock at what she saw there.

Isabelle, her hair in disarray and her opened bodice revealing her ample breasts, was lying on the cushioned seat, her gartered, black-stockinged legs thrashing wildly amid the flurry of her lacy petticoats while Philippe ploughed himself into her again and again. His grunts and her ecstatic moans mingled together discordantly.

Lisette flung the back of her hand across her mouth on a terrible, dry sob that wrenched from her throat. Neither of them heard it or her running away across the grass to come blindly down the steps into the sunken rose garden. There she flung herself down on the stone seat, her face in her hands. Her teeth were chattering from shock and her brain felt numb, making it impossible to think of anything except what she had seen. Wave after wave of horror swept over her, making her feel nauseous.