Read The Devil on Horseback Online
Authors: Victoria Holt
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #History, #Europe, #Great Britain, #France
“I should have to see how everything worked out,” I said cautiously.
“I could make no promises.”
“At least you will consider our poor Ma-cguerite.”
I replied that of course I would.
We passed through the old part of the chateau to that which was constructed three hundred years later. Here the elegance of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries prevailed.
“This you will discover gradually as we live here,” he said.
“It is the ancient part I wanted to show you myself.”
The tour was over. His mood seemed to have changed. He had become a little morose. I wondered why; and although I had enjoyed his company I was relieved to be alone that I might think over what had been said for I was sure there had been frequent innuendoes behind our conversation.
Margot had suffered not only mental but physical strain after her ordeal. She was easily tired and still fretting for her baby. I had no doubt that she needed me. I was sorry for her because it was clear to me that she felt a little lost among her own family. With such parents it did not surprise me, and I was even more grateful for the love and wisdom of my own mother a greater gift than that which had been bestowed on poor Margot, for all her noble lineage and family wealth.
As for Etienne and Leon, although they had been brought up in the household, they were scarcely like brothers.
Nou-Nou understood Margot’s state for she was one of the few people who were in the secret. She prescribed a stay in bed for a few days on diet of her choosing which contained some of her potions, and these seemed to make Margot sleep a good deal. I was sure this was necessary as she seemed refreshed and in better spirits when she awakened from her rests.
This gave me time on my own and both Etienne and Leon d. o. h. 129 b seemed determined to be friendly. I took a ride with each of them and when I looked back, what happened during these rides seemed significant.
On the afternoon of that day when the Comte had taken me round the old part of the castle, Etienne asked me if I would care to ride with him.
He would like to show me the countryside, he said.
I had always enjoyed riding-even on poor little Jenny and I had thought of Dower with longing since I had left her. So I accepted with alacrity. Moreover I had my rather elegant riding habit which my mother had bought for me to impress Joel Derringham, so I was well equipped.
The only question was, which horse to ride, but Etienne assured me that there would be just the right mount for me in the castle stables.
He was right. There was a lovely strawberry roan.
“Not too frisky,” said Etienne.
“Oh, I know you are an excellent horsewoman, but just at first…”
“How you could have learned such a thing I’ve no idea,” I replied.
“In fact I’m just a horsewoman … not a good one.”
“You are too modest. Cousin.”
I noticed the word ‘cousin’ and smiled inwardly. If I was the Comte’s cousin, Etienne would want me to be his. I was beginning to understand Etienne.
His manners were impeccable. He helped me to mount and complimented me on my outfit.
“Most elegant,” he called it.
“I thought so at home,” I told him, ‘but I am not so sure here. It’s strange how clothes can change in different environments. “
“You would look charming in any environment,” said Etienne gallantly.
The countryside was beautiful, for the leaves of the trees were now being touched with autumn tints. We cantered and galloped and I was glad of the practice I had had on Dower. I was touched by Etienne’s care for me, for I noticed how watchful he was and if he thought I was out of my depth-which he did once or twice-he would be beside me ready to make sure that I was all right.
As we were returning to the chateau1 think we must have been about two miles from it-we came to a house in a hollow. It was charming, in grey stone over which several kinds of creeper had spread itself. As the leaves of some of this were beginning to turn reddish brown the effect was delightful.
A woman was standing at the gate as though watching for someone. I was struck immediately by her rather flamboyant beauty. She had thick red hair and green eyes; she was tall, inclined to plumpness and very elegant.
“I must present you to Madame LeG rand said Etienne.
“She must be the chateau’s nearest neighbour.”
“You are right. She is,” replied Etienne.
Madame LeG rand had opened the gate. We dismounted, Etienne holding my horse while I did so, then tethering both horses to the post set there for that purpose.
“This is Mademoiselle Maddox,” said Etienne.
Madame LeG rand came towards me. She wore a green gown which became her well and matched her eyes. Beneath the skirt was a hoop which accentuated the smallness of her waist, and panniers of rich material draped over it to fall to the ground disclosing, as it fell apart, a satin petticoat of a slightly darker shade of green. Her hair was elaborately dressed -high, according to the fashion prevalent in France, which had been set by the Queen who needed height on account of her high forehead. The bodice of the green gown was cut low to disclose the whiteness of neck and the beginnings of a well-formed if ample bosom. She was a strikingly beautiful woman.
I had heard that you were at the chateau. Mademoiselle,” she told me, ‘and I was eager to meet you. I hope you will honour me by taking a glass of wine.”
I said I should be delighted to do so.
“Come into the salon,” she said.
We stepped into a cool hall in which had been arranged leaves of varying greens. Green was evidently her favourite colour. It suited her. I saw how attractive were those green eyes with their thick black lashes, particularly in contrast with the burnished reddish hair.
The salon was small, but perhaps it seemed so because I had already become accustomed to the rooms at the chateau. Compared with those of the schoolhouse, it would be called big. The furniture was as elegant as that in the castle and there were beautiful rugs on the floor. The pale green of the drapes toned perfectly with that of the cushions. It was ;j indeed a gracious room. j The wine was brought and she asked me how I was enjoying | my stay at my cousin’s chateau.
I hesitated. In spite of everything I could not think of myself as the Comte’s cousin. I replied that I was finding J everything very interesting. | “How strange that you should come across the Comte and | Marguerite after all those years. You must have been aware | of the relationship, though. You must have known that you | had these connections.”
Both she and Etienne seemed to be watching me intently, j “No,” I said.
“It was a surprise.”
How interesting I And how did you come across each j other? “
The Comte had said that when you were acting a part it ;
was wise to keep as near the truth as possible.
“It was when the Comte and his family were staying at the home of Sir John Demngham in England.”
“So you were staying there too?”
“No. I lived there. My mother had a school
A school? How odd!”
“Mademoiselle Maddox is a highly educated young lady,” said Etienne.
“It was not in the least odd,” I retorted.
“My mother became a widow and had to support herself and her daughter. As she was well equipped to teach, she did so.”
“And the Comte discovered the school,” prompted Etienne.
“His daughter was a pupil there,” “Ah, I see,” said Madame LeG rand
“And then he discovered that you were related to him.”
“Yes … it was like that.”
“You must find it strange to come from a school … to this.” She waved her hand to indicate the chateau.
“It was. I was very happy in the school. When my mother was alive we were content.”
“I am sorry. That is sad. And then you came to France?”
“Marguerite needed a holiday. She was unwell. So I came with her.”
“And the school?”
It is finished. “
“So you intend to stay here … indefinitely It occurred to me that she was asking too many questions for politeness and I was being foolish in thinking I must answer them.
I said coolly: “Madame, I have made no definite plans, so therefore I am unable to discuss them with you.”
“Mademoiselle Maddox speaks French very well, does she not, Etienne?”
Etienne smiled at me.
“I have rarely heard an English person speak so well.”
“Only the faintest trace of accent.”
“But this is charming,” Etienne added.
Madame nodded and I thought it was time I started the questioning.
“You have a delightful house here, Madame. Have you lived here long?”
“For some nineteen years.”
“It must be the nearest house to the chateau.”
“It is less than two miles away.”
“And you must be happy to own such a delightful residence.”
“I am happy to be here but I don’t own it. Like everything else on this estate, it belongs to the Comte Fontaine Delibes. Mademoiselle, have you often visited France?”
“I had never been here before I arrived with Marguerite.”
“How very interesting.”
I changed the subject and we talked about the beauties of the countryside, the similarities and the differences when compared with that of England; and the conversation stayed in more conventional channels.
After a while we rose to go and she took my hands in hers and expressed the wish that I should find time to call on her again.
“Etienne frequently calls, I’m glad to say. You must bring Mademoiselle again, Etienne, or if you come alone. Mademoiselle, I shall be delighted.”
I thanked her for her hospitality while Etienne untethered our horses.
As we mounted and rode away I said: “What a beautiful woman.”
“I think so too,” he answered.
“Perhaps I am prejudiced.”
I looked at him in astonishment. He smiled and keeping his eyes on my face as though intent on my reaction, he added:
“Did you realize that she is my mother?”
I felt shaken, thinking immediately of her relationship with the Comte. I wondered whether they had deliberately kept her identity from me so that Etienne might surprise me thus.
I was thankful that I could remain calm, remembering my mother’s remarks that an English lady never showed her feelings, particularly in times of stress. Was this stress? It was certainly startling.
I said; “You must be very proud to have such a beautiful mother.”
Yes,” he said, ” I am. “
Was she still his mistress? I wondered. She lived in a house close to the chateau . his house. Did he visit her there? Did she come to the chateau1’!
It was no affair of mine, I told myself grimly.
It was on the following day that I took my ride with Leon. I found him easier to talk to than Etienne. He was more relaxed, more natural. He saw no reason to hide the fact that he was the son of peasants and I liked him for it.
If he lacked Etienne’s dark good looks he had been more lavishly endowed with charm. Those dark blue eyes were arresting in his brown face. His dark crinkly hair, worn short, fitted his head cap like His clothes were well cut but serviceable and they completely lacked the dash and elegance of Etienne’s.
He rode his horse well as though he and the animal were one. I was on the strawberry roan which I had ridden on the previous day. I felt a little easier with her, and I was sure she did with me.
Leon was gayer by nature than Etienne more lighthearted, I fancied, but, like Etienne, he complimented me on my riding habit and we talked about horses for a while. I told him about Dower and how I regretted leaving her behind and how before I had acquired her I trundled round on Jenny.
I found myself telling him about my mother and it was a relief to be able to talk of her easily and with the certainty that he would understand, though why I should have thought so after so short an acquaintance, I was not sure. It was simply that his naturalness appealed to me. He was frank and open and I could be the same.
“What would your mother think if she knew you were here? ” he asked.
I hesitated. That she would heartily disapprove of the Comte I was well aware. But she would have enjoyed seeing me treated as a guest in the castle.
I replied: “I think she would agree that I was wise to leave the school when I did … before I was in real difficulty with it.”
“And I suppose she would think it was comme il faut to stay with your cousins?”
“I think Marguerite was glad to have me with her,” I said evasively.
He smiled wryly.
“And the Comte is equally glad. He makes that clear.”
“He is merely being a kind host.”
After our previous frankness, the reference to what must be a secret made a momentary barrier between us.
Then he said: I hear you visited Gabrielle LeG rand yesterday. “
“Oh yes ” She is a very great friend of the Comte, as you no doubt gathered. “
“I learned she is Etienne’s mother.”
“Yes. She and the Comte have been friends for years.”
“I understand,” I said.
I remembered the words I had heard him exchange with Etienne and I believed he was warning me. They did not believe in the cousin ship and I was not surprised. I could see that Leon had worked out that the Comte had met me in England, had liked me, had plans for me, and had brought me to France in order that he might carry them out. He must have a poor opinion of me. But how could I tell him that I had come solely because Marguerite needed me?
“I suppose,” he said conversationally, ‘that life in England is very different from what it is here. “
“Naturally … and yet perhaps fundamentally the same.”
“Your Sir John Derringham, would he have his mistress living nearby quite blatantly? And what would his wife say?”
I was startled but tried not to show it.
“No. That would not be acceptable. Sir John, in any case, would never behave in such a way.”
“It is commonplace enough here. Some of our kings have set the example.”
We have had kings who behaved similarly. Charles II for one. “
“He had a French mother.”
“You seem determined to prove your countrymen light in their morals.”