The Demon Lover (34 page)

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Authors: Victoria Holt

Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense

BOOK: The Demon Lover
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I said: “It is time to dress your leg and I am going to get the dressing.”

He looked at me with his head on one side. He was laughing at me, but somehow I knew that he had meant what he had said I felt suddenly very nappy.

The winter was on us and it seemed particularly severe. We had plenty of wood to make a fire but we watched it carefully, rationing ourselves every day. The cold was more bearable than the lack of food.

We were able to wrap ourselves in fur rugs and bed coverings and we all huddled together in that room in which the Baron lay. He needed to rest his leg a good deal. It was impossible to get medical attention.

I did not see the doctor now. He had ceased to come and I wondered what had happened to him.

There was rioting occasionally in the streets and I did not go out.

The Baron begged me not to and I did not want to icave Kendal nor take him with me. I was terrified of what might happen to him.

He was a wonderfully intelligent child and he understood that we were besieged and what that meant. The Baron had explained to him. The boy would sit on the bed and listen not only to an explanation of the present situation but to tales of the past glories of marauding Norsemen. He loved such stories and would eagerly ask questions, and when some of the stories were repeated-for he often asked for them again and again-if there was a divergence from the first version, he would immediately point it out. They were very happy together, those two.

Later when I heard what was happening in the city I realized how fortunate we were. Jeanne was a wonderful asset to the household. She would go out occasionally and sometimes come back with a little food . some potatoes or other vegetables . some wine . We still had some flour left. How I had reason to bless Nicole’s careful housekeeping! She had been interested in the kitchen, for she had loved entertaining and had always seen that there was a good supply in the larders of the sort of food which could be kept. Thus, although we scarcely had a haven of plenty, we did have something to eat during those first three months.

There was no way out of the city and no way in. The frontiers were guarded, and the only communication with the rest of the country was done by means of carrier pigeons, Jeanne told me.

She was brave, and I think she undertook her forages into the city in an adventuous spirit.

So we passed through those months.

December came and as far as we knew there was no sign of the breaking of the siege. The winter lay before us. The days were dark. Through the windows we saw the snow falling and there was hushed silence everywhere.

Jeanne came back one day with a piece of salted pork.

“In the Ananas Inn,” she told us. I remembered the place with the pineapple sign outside. It was only a few streets from the house.

The innkeeper had been a friend of hers, she explained. Occasionally at a high cost he let her have something. The Baron had plently of money but the irony of it was that people did not want money nowadays.

What they wanted was food.

We would have the pork on Christmas Day, I said. We should have a real feast. After living on bread and wine for several weeks that would indeed be a treat.

That Christmas will stand out forever in my mind. A cold dark day.

Jeanne lighted the fire early as a special treat and we gathered in the Baron’s room.

I am sure food had never-or ever has since-tasted so good to me as that hard salt pork. It is indeed true that hunger seasons all dishes.

We talked and Kendal recalled last Christmas Eve when we had had a party with a lot of guests. He had got out of bed and watched. The ladies all had pretty dresses and they had all laughed and danced and there was music.

“Well,” said the Baron.

“Paris was not under siege then.”

“How long will it be?” asked Kendal.

“Ah, that is a question I cannot answer. It can’t last, though. Soon we shall all be rejoicing. There’ll be bonfires in the streets.”

We looked at the poor little wood fire struggling in the grate.

“Last year we gave presents to each other,” said Kendal.

“We’ll give presents to each other this year,” the Baron replied.

“Can we?” cried Kendal excitedly.

“Well, just see them … in your mind’s eyes. How would that do?”

“Oh yes, let’s,” cried Kendal.

“What will you give me, Baron?”

“Guess.”

He tried to think and the Baron said: “All right. I’ll tell. It’s a pony … a pony of your own. A white pony.”

“Where shall I ride him?”

“In the fields.”

“There aren’t any fields here.”

“Then we’ll go where there are fields.”

“Shall I just sit on it?”

“Just at first you’ll have to have a leading rein.”

“What’s that?”

The Baron told him.

“What’s his name?” asked Kendal.

“Ponies have to have names, don’t they?”

“You will choose his name.”

Kendal thought for a while. Then he leaned towards the Baron and putting his arms round his neck whispered in his ear.

“Would that do?”

he asked.

“I think it might do very well.”

“After all,” said Kendal, ‘you gave it to me and that’s your real name, isn’t it? “

“It is, and now it is the pony’s. Ha, Rollo! The best and most beautiful pony in France.”

Kendal smiled blissfully. I knew he could see himself galloping through fields.

He stopped suddenly and said: “You haven’t given the others anything.”

“No. We were so taken up with your pony. Well.. Jeanne … what shall I give her?”

Kendal whispered to him.

“Yes, that will do very well. Come here, Jeanne. I shall pin it on your bodice.”

“It’s a beautiful brooch,” cried Kendal.

“Of course it is,” said the Baron.

“It’s made of diamonds and emeralds. That will suit jeanne very well.”

“Thank you. Thank you,” said jeanne playing the game to perfection.

“I

never thought to have such a brooch in all my days. “

“And now Maman,” said Kendal.

“What have you got for her? It should be something very nice.”

“Oh, it is,” said the Baron. He took my hand and went through the motions of putting a ring on my finger.

“There!” he said.

“Isn’t that magnificent. That’s a family heirloom.”

“Is it real gold?” asked Kendal.

“As real as can be. And the blue stone … that is a sapphire. The finest sapphire in the world. The others are diamonds. The ring has been in my family for generations. It is handed down through the years.”

“Do they give it to the brides?” asked Kendal.

“That’s right,” cried the Baron as though in wonder.

“How did you know?”

“I just did, ” said Kendal, looking wise.

“Does that make my Maman .. “

He was looking at the Baron eagerly. No one spoke for a few seconds.

Kendal went on: “Then,” he said rather shyly, ‘you’d be my father. I’m glad. I never had a father. Other boys seem to. I would like having a father. “

I wanted to get up and go out of the room. I was overcome by my emotions.

I forced myself to say: “It’s my turn to give the presents.”

We played guessing games after that-chiefly the old one of thinking of something and making the rest of the party guess what it was . a never-failing favourite with Kendal.

Then as a special treat we had a little more of the salt pork though prudence told me it would have been wiser to have saved it for another day.

But this was Christmas Day . the strangest I had ever spent, and yet in spite of everything I was not unhappy.

There was a change after Christmas Day, and two days later the bombardment started again. It seemed that the enemy was concentrating on the forts rather than the centre of the city and a great deal of damage was done to those ofVanves and Issy.

There was no more salt pork or any luxuries. The Baron confessed to me that the innkeeper at the Ananas had held the food for him which he had stocked there just in case something like this should happen.

“I thought I should get you away in time,” he said ‘but in case I did not—as it turned out— I made a little preparation. I gave the innkeeper permission to take half of the food himself. It would have been too much of a temptation to have it there in the midst of his starving family. I was surprised that he did not take the lot. Even in these circumstances he was afraid of Monsieur Ie Baron. “

He had reported the last with a certain pride and I thought: He has not really changed. He only seems to have mellowed because of these strange days through which we are living. If ever his life becomes normal again, he will be just the same as he ever was.

But I did not entirely believe this. I had seen him with Kendal and I knew that there was a steady affection between them. Kendal thought him wonderful. That pleased me while it gave rise to a certain apprehension.

I was glad of their relationship now but I often wondered what would happen if ever we moved out of this strange nightmare into which we had been drawn.

We had passed into January. Jeanne reported that people were dying of starvation. They were too weak to riot and were ready to do anything for deliverance.

We had very little to eat now. The Baron said that he had such reserves of strength that he needed little to keep him alive. I discovered that he often gave his share to Kendal. That moved me as much as anything he had done, and I felt thew that I almost loved him, There was a slight change in the weather. The cold wind had dropped and the sun came out. I felt an irresistible urge to step outside. I would not go far and tell no one that I had gone, for they would protest and try to stop me. But the bombardment had stopped now and streets were safe. The Prussians must have realized that the most effective way to make Paris surrender was through starvation.

I wished I had not taken that walk. I would never forget the sight of the child, He was lying against some palings and for a moment I could have thought it was Kendal lying there. The child’s fair hair escaped from a woollen hat and I thought he had fallen. I went forward to help him.

I touched him and he fell backwards so that he was lying there, pale and cold. He was just bones in a red coat and hat. He must have been dead some time . dead . of starvation. There was nothing I could do for him now. If I had had food to give him, it would have been too late.

I turned and ran back to the house. Kendal came towards me.

“Have you been out, Maman?”

“Yes … yes .. Just a little way.”

“The sun’s shining,” he said.

It shone on his face, showing up the pallor, the lacklustre in those eyes which had once been so bright. the pale thin little face.

I turned away because I could not bear to look at him.

“Oh God,” I prayed.

“End this nightmare. Don’t let that happen … not to Kendal.”

The Baron was standing nearby. He limped towards me and taking my hand drew me into his room.

“What happened?” he asked when we were alone.

I fell against him. I was half sobbing.

He said gently: “Tell me, Kate.”

“It was a child … out there … a dead child … a boy … like Kendal.”

He stroked my hair.

“He’ll be all right. This can’t go on. They’ll have to call a halt. It’s coming soon. It must. We’ll survive.”

I stood there clinging to him. He held me very tightly and went on:

“Don’t give way. That wouldn’t be like you. It won’t be long now.”

He comforted me as no one else could have done at that time. I believed him. He would take care of us and he could never fail. What had happened to him would have killed most people. But not the Baron.

Such was the way in which he had built himself up for me. We must be all right while he was there. He had found a means to get us some food. He gave the food which he wanted himself to Kendal. He loved the boy who was his son.

I just stood there leaning against him and he put his lips to my hair.

That scene from the turret room flashed before my eyes and I thought how different this was. I was glad to be held thus and that he was the one who held me.

“Kate,” he said after a while, “I want to talk to you. I’ve had it in my mind for a few days now. This really is going to be over soon.

There’ll be an armistice and then I shall want to get us out of Paris as soon as it is possible. “

“I can’t leave Paris,” I said.

“My work is here. When things are normal …”

“How long do you think it is going to be before things are normal! Who is going to want portraits painted? These people want to eat. They want to recover. And even when the food starts coming into Paris, how long do you think it will take to get enough provisions here? Paris is going to be a sad city for some time to come. We are going to get away just as soon as the frontiers are open.”

Where to? “

“To Centeville for a start.”

“To the castle … no, no.”

“You must come. You’ve got to be nursed back to health. So have I. So will anyone who has lived through this siege … and particularly the boy.”

“I am so frightened for him.”

“No need to be … if you are sensible. Now I know how you feel about the castle. I have a proposition. There is a little place known as La Loge du Chateau. It is just inside the moat and was used by servants at one time. I shall take you there and you can live there with the boy and jeanne until Paris is fit for you to return.”

I was silent.

“You will have to sink your pride if you are going to consider the boy,” he said.

“When have I ever let anything interfere with his wellbeing?” I demanded.

“The answer to that is Never, so you will be sensible now. The child is ill-nourished and has been for three months or more. Thank God he is strong enough to stand it. But he needs good food … fresh air. country life. He needs to be built up. He’s going to have all that, Kate, if I have to kidnap him to give it to him. He needs that more than anything at the moment, and I repeat, he is going to have it.”

I met his eyes steadily.

“I accept your offer,” I told him.

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