The day’s news
was still large in her mind when she went to bed, and she could not sleep.
After tossing about for more than an hour, she rose, put a shawl round her
shoulders and went to sit by the window. Down in the valley she could see the
church spire and the uneven rooftops of the village. Beyond it, the lower
slopes of the mountain had been terraced to make the vineyards, and above those
the dark mass of pine trees stretched up to a boulder-strewn peak. A light here
and there denoted a cottage or a farmhouse. From a distant kennel she could
hear the bark of a dog and somewhere an owl hooted. Immediately below her she
could see the roof of the stables and hear the soft whinny of a horse.
A light
flickered in the distance. She stood up to see the better. There was another
and then another. She ran down to the library and fetched an old telescope from
one of the shelves. With that she followed the line of the road through the
valley. It was full of vehicles, carts and gun carriages, and on both sides
were horses and men, hundreds of them. It was their camp fires she had seen.
She swept the glass round in an arc to left and right. The whole hillside was
covered with soldiers and
Les Cascades
was right in the middle of them.
A movement
caught her eye. A single horseman had detached himself from the main force and
was riding along the road towards the house. She watched him for some minutes,
now shrouded in darkness as he passed beneath trees, now plainly to be seen as
he came out into the moonlight. She craned forward. It couldn’t be... He turned
one of the many sharp bends which the road took on its way to the house and
disappeared from view. She held her breath, hardly daring to hope, and then
there he was, entering the gates, a tall, upright figure on a big horse. She
ran across the room and tore downstairs, flinging open the front door as he
dismounted.
‘Adam!’ She
threw herself into his arms.
He kissed her
hungrily, then picked her up and carried her back into the house and along the
hall to the drawing-room, kicking the door shut behind them with his foot.
Setting her down, he held her close to his chest and bent his head to find her
lips with his own. She felt the familiar tightening in her stomach and limbs,
which made her forget everything in the pleasure of his return.
‘You don’t know
how glad I am you are back,’ she said at last. ‘I’ve been frightened and did
not know what to do for the best...’ She stepped back to look at him properly
for the first time. He was wearing a uniform of white breeches and a dark blue
coat whose braid denoted the rank of captain. ‘Why are you dressed like that?’
she asked.
He grinned.
‘Don’t you like it? I thought it rather dashing...’
‘How can you
joke about such a thing, Adam? You have enlisted again, haven’t you?’
‘I have no
choice, Maryanne,’ he said gently. ‘I am needed.’
‘Don’t you
think I need you? And
Maman
. What about us, your mother and me, and the
servants? Have you no thought for your own people?’
‘Do you think I
wanted the regiment to come here?
Mon Dieu
, what kind of man do you
think I am?’
‘Then make them
go away again. While you have been gone
Maman
has been so much better,
would you throw her back into the pit of despair again?’
‘That is the
last thing I want.’ His jaw was set.
‘Then change
out of those clothes before she sees you.’
‘I cannot.’ He
took her shoulders in his hands and looked down into her troubled face.
‘Maryanne, my love, you must take
Maman
and leave. I will give you funds
to take you as far as Paris. Go to my bankers when you reach there and they
will help you to go to England. I will come and find you.’ He paused and added
softly, ‘Wherever you are, I will find you.’
‘I won’t go! I
am not afraid of Napoleon Bonaparte.’
He smiled
crookedly, put his finger under her chin and tipped it up so that he could kiss
her lips. It was pleasure and pain in an overwhelming wave of emotion which
left her breathless and crying. ‘Maryanne, think of
Maman
. Think of me.
If you are here when the fighting starts, do you think I could do what I have
to do with an easy mind? I need to know you are both safe.’
‘And while I
travel the length of France,’ she sobbed, ‘you will be fighting and killing,
perhaps being killed yourself...’
‘Maryanne, you
do not understand.’
‘Oh, I
understand all right,’ she retorted. ‘You love war. You love the thrill of
battle. You have been brought up to fight and never mind who is killed and hurt
by it.’
‘That is neither
fair nor accurate. Don’t you see, I have my duty...’
‘You also have
a duty to me, and to your mother,’ she told him. ‘You leave us for weeks on end
without a word and when you come back it is not to stay with us and protect us,
but to send us away. We have taken months to restore this house and the garden.
Is it all to be trampled by men in boots, not to mention horses and gun
carriages?’
He had to be
angry with her; it was the only way he could make her obey him. ‘A beautiful
speech,
madame
. But perhaps you should say it to the Emperor, not to me,
for I have no time to listen. I have been sent to requisition this house for
the regiment’s headquarters.’ He attempted a smile to cover his own bitterness,
but all he managed was a quirk to his lips and a lifting of the scar over his
eye. ‘The colonel has noticed that it has excellent views all round. He will be
here soon to take over himself.’
She stared at
him open-mouthed. ‘You can’t mean that?’
‘I am afraid I
do.’ He wanted to take her in his arms again, but dare not. ‘I volunteered to
come and see there would be no trouble over it.’
‘No trouble?’
Her voice was a squeak. ‘I will give you trouble. I shall refuse to budge.’
‘Maryanne, if
you do not do as I say, others will come and it will be out of my hands. Go and
pack, please.’
‘Now?’
‘Yes, now.’
‘But it is the
middle of the night. How will we travel? Who will go with us?’
‘You can go in
the landaulet; it is light enough for you to drive. The Count has decided not
to serve again; he is taking the Countess to England and has agreed to escort
you. They will be waiting for you at the church. If all goes well and Bonaparte
is stopped before he reaches Paris, I will join you very soon. But do not wait;
go to Robert and wait for me.’
‘That is all I
ever do, wait,’ she cried. ‘And what happens when we arrive in England? Had you
forgotten Mark and the fact that he has accused us both of murder?’
‘Had you
forgotten,’ he retorted, ‘that you are my wife now? I have made you into a
respectable woman. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it, to be able to face the
world?’
‘My reluctance
to leave has nothing to do with the scandal,’ she said, fighting back tears.
‘And you are cruel to bring that up again.’
He went to the
window as the sound of horses could be heard approaching the house. ‘The
colonel is coming and that means I must revert to being the soldier. And
Maryanne...’ He paused. ‘I am not Adam Saint-Pierre. I am not your husband. Do
you understand? We have never met before today.’
‘Oh,’ she said
angrily, as she went to the door. ‘Who are you, then? Sir Peter Adams or
Captain Choucas? What would they say if they knew...?’
‘Maryanne!’ He
strode over to her and grabbed her arm. ‘If you value my life at all, you will
say nothing of that, do you hear? Nothing.’
‘And what about
Maman
? How will you silence her? With a fist in her mouth? Would you
like me to bind and gag her?’
‘Keep her out
of the way until it is time to go,’ he said. ‘When you are ready, go to the
stables. I will see you both there.’ He stood back from her as Henri admitted
the colonel. ‘
Madame
understands the situation,’ Adam told him. ‘She is
going to pack now.’ He gave Maryanne a meaningful look, and she ran from the
room, up the stairs to her bedroom, where she flung herself face down on the
bed and wept. She wished she didn’t love him quite so much; there were times
when it was almost like a physical ache which could only be eased by
quarrelling with him. And, having argued and shouted and almost come to blows,
she was left with the heartache. And that was worse.
Why was their
love so turbulent? Two or three months of peace, that was all they had had, and
now this. How was she going to endure the parting, not knowing where he was or
even if he was alive? And what devious game was he playing, pretending to be a
stranger in his own house?
She could hear
men’s voices now, as they moved about the house, deciding which rooms would
best serve their purpose, and she supposed they would soon come to her bedroom
because it had the best views. Her pride forced her to rise from the bed and
make her reluctant preparations to leave.
When she
summoned the servants to instruct them, she discovered they had already fled,
every single one of them, except Henri and Anna, who were made of sterner
stuff. Adam had contrived to let them know they must treat him as a stranger
and they seemed to have entered into the spirit of the charade much more
willingly than she had. She wondered if Adam had told them more than he had told
her, and the thought annoyed her. Was she the only one to be kept in the dark?
No, there was also
Madame
Saint-Pierre. Poor Eleanor! Just as she was
beginning to improve, this had to happen; better to leave her sleeping until
the very last minute.
She packed a
few items of clothing for both of them, woke madame and called Henri to take
the baggage out to the coach. Then she returned to the drawing-room where the
colonel had made himself comfortably at home. He had spread a map of the area
out on the table and was discussing some points of it with Adam and another
officer.
‘Colonel,’ she
began, ‘I beg you to reconsider.’
Before he could
reply, Eleanor burst into the room behind her. Ignoring Adam, she hurled
herself at the colonel, dragging her nails down his face.
Both Adam and
Maryanne ran to haul her off, but not before the colonel had struck her across
the face with the back of his hand with such force that she fell to the floor.
He turned to Maryanne, wiping blood from his cheek. ‘Take her away,’ he ordered.
Maryanne bent
to help Eleanor to her feet, then stood with her arm about her, facing him.
‘You did not need to be so brutal. Can’t you see she is afraid?’ She caught a
glimpse of Adam out of the corner of her eye. He had turned away; every muscle
in his face was rigid and his hands were clenched against his sides to stop
himself moving or speaking. Whatever game he was playing, he was in deadly
earnest, if he dared not go to the aid of his mother.
‘Afraid?’ the
colonel queried. ‘I have done nothing to frighten her. Get her out of here,
before I have her arrested.’ He turned to Adam. ‘Captain, we have work to do.’
Maryanne, in
tears, put her arm round Eleanor’s shoulders and led her out to the stables,
where Henri had harnessed two horses to the landaulet and loaded their baggage.
She climbed in and took the reins from his hand, but made no move to go.
‘
Madame
,
I beg you do not delay; you will make it difficult for him,’ he said.
Maryanne’s
misery turned to anger, anger at the stupidity of a nation which had almost
destroyed itself by war preparing to do exactly the same again; but most of all
her anger was directed at her husband, who had condoned the seizure of their
home. She jerked on the reins and the startled horses set off down the drive.
Adam arrived on
the front step just in time to see the carriage disappearing out of sight. He
turned and went back indoors and up the stairs three at a time to their
bedroom, where he crossed to the window, grabbed up the discarded telescope and
watched the vehicle until it had joined the Count’s coach at the crossroads by
the church. ‘Goodbye, my darling,’ he whispered. ‘God go with you.’
He should have
sent them away long before. He had known what was being planned; he had sent
his reports to Vienna as he had been instructed, in the vain hope that
Bonaparte could be prevented from leaving Elba or, failing that, stopped before
he landed. Complacent fools! Sitting on their backsides in the Congress Hall
waiting to see what would happen next. Well, he could tell them. Without
support from the great Powers, the French alone could not, would not resist. He
doubted the colonel’s capacity to stop him.
Why did it have
to happen now, just when Maryanne was beginning to put the past behind her? Why
here, where they had been so happy? Why, when
Maman
had suffered so much
already, should she have to suffer more? Would Maryanne be able to manage her?
If only they had not quarrelled, if only he could have explained, but the
colonel’s arrival had stopped him. Perhaps it was just as well, for what could
he have told her that it was safe for her to know?
Suddenly he was
a child again, emerging from a cupboard to find all his happiness swept away
and nothing left but emptiness. He sank down on the rumpled bed, still sweet
with Maryanne’s perfume, put his head in his hands and groaned in agony.