The Black Swan (20 page)

He replied that he would miss us all … very, very much. His eyes were on Belinda who was unusually quiet.

“Well,” said Jean Pascal lightly, “you’ll be coming over again sometime, I expect.”

“Oh yes … yes indeed.”

I was glad when the meal was over and I retired early. Poor Belinda! I thought, although I suspected that her feelings had not been very deeply involved. She had just liked the idea of marrying a presentable young man with an even more presentable background.

I lay in my bed reading and was not surprised to hear a tap on my door.

I said, “Who’s there?”

“Belinda, of course,” she said.

I unlocked the door and she came in. “I expected you to come,” I said.

She sat on my bed and she looked radiant.

“I’m engaged,” she said. “Bobby has asked me to marry him.”

“Well! Congratulations! You managed it after all.”

“What do you mean? Managed it? You are jealous, Lucie Lansdon.”

“Not in the least. Only full of admiration.”

“I’m so happy. Bobby is such a darling. He wanted to ask me before … only he was afraid it was too soon. Then he got this message. He has to go home and he didn’t like to tell me … because he was wondering whether to ask me to marry him and was afraid I’d say no.”

“What? With a title and a handsome face and some fortune, I imagine! The man must be mad.”

“Don’t tease. It’s too important.”

“All right. So he has asked you to marry him and you have said yes please. And now all we have to do is wait for wedding bells.”

“You’ve got a sharp tongue sometimes, Lucie. No one would guess it. You look so meek.”

“I understand you too well, Belinda.”

“Well, Bobby likes me.”

“Evidently. Now tell me in detail.”

“He was very quiet after letting out at lunchtime that he was going home. He was making up his mind whether he could ask me or whether he ought to go home and then come back to France and ask me then. You see, we have known each other such a short time really.”

“True love transcends time and space,” I said.

“Shut up. It was after dinner. You’d gone off and mon père … he’s very tactful … he guessed that Bobby and I would want to have a talk together, so he left us … said he had some work to do or something and would join us later. It was then that Bobby blurted out that the moment he had seen me he had known. It was sudden like that.”

“And as you had already marked him as your victim, there was nothing to prevent the course of true love running smoothly.”

“We’re so happy, Lucie. And mon père joined us and we told him. He’s pleased. He said, ‘It seems I have only just found Belinda to lose her to another.’ Wasn’t that sweet? But he was pleased. He wants my happiness—and I suppose it will save him an expensive season and all the fuss of finding a husband for me.”

“Satisfaction all round,” I commented.

“You like Bobby, don’t you, Lucie?”

“Yes, I do. I have one fear though.”

“What’s that?”

“That he is too good for you.”

She laughed at me and then went on to talk of her plans.

“We shall be married with the minimum of delay. I expect it will be in London. Celeste can arrange it. It could hardly be here. So many people don’t know mon père has a daughter, whereas Celeste
is
my aunt. Bobby is coming back as soon as he can and then we’ll make the arrangements. One thing we are both determined on. It is going to be soon.”

After she had gone I lay in bed, feeling, I must admit, a little bitter. Here was Belinda with life flowing so smoothly for her; and I had lost not only my beloved father, but the man I had believed I was going to marry.

Poor sad Lucie … and lucky Belinda.

It was ironical that the next morning the blow should fall.

It came with a letter from Celeste.

“My dear Lucie,” she wrote,

Gerald Greenham has returned home. I am afraid the news is bad. There seems to be no doubt that Joel is dead. Gerald has found proof. Apparently Joel and James Hunter were set upon when they left the meeting and the hotel. They were robbed and must have put up a fight for they were killed by the robbers. They were traced by a ring James Hunter was wearing at the time. It is rather an unusual one and the authorities have a description of it. Apparently it is a family heirloom—plain gold with an inscription inside. In the family it was considered a sort of talisman. James was pressed to take it by his mother before he went on the mission. I am afraid, dear Lucie, there cannot be any doubt.

Gerald is home. The family is very sad. Don’t write to them. It will only distress them more. They have asked me to tell you what has happened. It is very sad. The robbers have been caught and were sentenced to death. They confessed … so you see it is true.

I don’t know how you feel. Perhaps it would be better for you to stay in France for a while. It might be easier for you there. There would be so much to remind you here.

It is for you to decide. Rest assured I want you to do everything that is easier for you. You are young and will grow away from the tragedy … in time.

God bless you.

With my love and thoughts,

Celeste

I did not want to speak to anyone. I took an opportunity of escaping. I went out and sat some little distance from the lake, watching the swans as they sailed majestically across the lake. I fancied Diable was keeping a watchful eye on me.

They looked beautiful, so graceful, so much a part of the idyllic scene. Who would believe that the beautiful creature could suddenly be a symbol of hatred?

Yet it was so.

But then who would have believed that a comparatively short time ago my life was happy and contented and I saw before me a continuation of that contentment, and that it had changed drastically.

I sat for a long time looking over the lake.

I did not mention Celeste’s letter. I could not bring myself to talk of Joel. Belinda continued in her euphoric state and naturally did not notice my sadness.

I would sit listening to her talking incessantly about plans for the wedding, of the ancestral home which she had yet to see, of the honeymoon which would be of her choosing. Venice, she thought. A romantic city. Or perhaps Florence. Italy certainly.

“Mon père is very helpful,” she told me. “He has made discreet inquiries about Bobby’s standing and background … financial status and all that, and apparently everything is impeccable and suitable, even to his French mind.”

“How conveniently wonderful,” I murmured, but I was thinking all the time of Joel … leaving the others … and going off with James Hunter … to death.

I must admit to a certain bitterness. I felt life was so cruel to me while it was benign to Belinda, and I could not help that twinge of resentment toward a fate which could be so unkind to me and benevolent to her.

I took to sitting by the lake. I found a certain satisfaction in watching the swans. On one or two occasions I ventured near to the edge of the lake into Diable’s territory. It was only when he came swimming toward me that I retreated.

I was fascinated by the swans. Oddly enough, in these sad days they helped to cheer me in some way. They seemed to tell me that I must be prepared for life which was not always what it appeared to be, that it was no rare thing in the midst of happiness to find the canker which would erupt into fearful disaster.

I thought often of that maid who came out, in all innocence, to admire the beautiful swans and had ventured too close to the water’s edge … consequently she had been viciously attacked and had lost an eye.

I had come near to disaster, too … saved by Jean Pascal.

I was sitting there, watching the swans, when Jean Pascal himself came along.

“Oh, there you are, Lucie,” he said. “The lake fascinates you, doesn’t it? I really believe you have quite a fondness for old Diable.”

“He interests me. He’s so beautiful. He looks so calm and harmless … right out there in the middle of the lake.”

“Yes, I know, Lucie. You seem a little preoccupied lately.”

“I? I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing to apologize for. I was just wondering whether there was any trouble. If there was something I could do to help?”

“You have been most kind.”

“It has been a great pleasure for me to have you here.”

“It must have been a great joy to you to have your daughter with you.”

“I was thinking of you, too.”

“You have been very kind to me, but it has occurred to me that I must not abuse your hospitality. I think it is time I returned home.”

“You can’t go, Lucie! What of Belinda?”

“It would not be necessary for Belinda to come with me.”

“She would be terribly upset if you went. So would I. Robert is coming back as soon as he has settled his business. Then they will announce their engagement. I wanted to talk to you about the arrangements and so on.”

“Belinda will talk to you about them. I really think …”

“Lucie, there is something I have wanted to say to you for some time. I have grown very fond of you. I know I am a few years older than you, but I am young in heart. Lucie … I want to marry you.”

“Marry me!”

“You sound surprised. We have always got along well together, haven’t we?”

“Of course … but …”

“Well, why not? You have been happy here in the château, have you not?”

I did not answer. I could not truthfully say I had. I had always felt that sense of foreboding. Was it because I had subconsciously felt he was too interested in me for my comfort? Was it because I had come here mourning my father’s death and uncertain of the part I had played in convicting the man suspected of murdering him; and that the man I was going to marry was missing? I had come here with all these burdens on me. No, certainly I had not been happy here.

“Oh, Lucie,” he said, “I have failed then.”

“You have been a kind host and it was good of you to invite me with Belinda. But I could not be happy. My father …”

“Of course. Of course, I understand. I have been tactless and foolish.” He took my hand. “Lucie, I love you. I know I could make you happy. I can give you a full and happy life. We will have a happy family. I promise you your welfare shall be the main concern of my life.”

I felt a desire to run away … up those marble steps into the château, to my room, to pack my bag and get right away.

The idea of marrying him filled me with dismay.

“I am sorry,” I said. “But I could not think of marrying.”

“Perhaps I have spoken too soon.”

“No. It is not that. I do not want to marry. I appreciate your kindness, but I could not marry you.”

“Give it a little thought.”

“That is not necessary. No amount of thought would make me change my mind.”

His face darkened. I felt a twinge of that foreboding which came to me now and then. I was sure that his anger would be something to fear.

He sat back in the seat, glaring out at the lake.

Diable began to swim toward the shore. It occurred to me that the swan sensed Jean Pascal’s anger and believed it was directed at him.

I said, “Look! The swan is coming.”

I stood up and was preparing to move away, for I knew that as soon as we showed that we were not approaching, the swan would turn back to the middle of the lake.

Jean Pascal had risen also; but he showed no sign of retreating. He was looking about him for a weapon. With a quick movement he broke a branch from one of the trees and strode toward the water’s edge. The swan flew toward us suddenly and attempted to attack Jean Pascal, who beat at it viciously.

For a few seconds it was not clear who would win, but Jean Pascal was in command. The swan realized this perhaps, for suddenly he flew back and settled on the lake where his mate was patiently waiting for him.

I felt frightened. The attack had been deliberately provoked and I fancied there was some meaning in it. Jean Pascal was angry … furiously angry … and with me, of course, for refusing his proposal. He had had to vent his anger on someone and he had done it on the swan.

I was shaking with fear. There was something maniacal about the manner in which he had attacked the beautiful creature. Was he imagining that he was beating me?

I started to walk back to the château. He was beside me very soon, smiling, suave as ever.

“It is time someone taught Diable a lesson,” he said.

I did not answer and he went on, “Lucie, I don’t take no for an answer. Think about it, will you? Just give me that promise. Give it thought. Just consider what it would mean to you. We could be happy, Lucie, I know it. Promise me you will think about it.”

I was a coward, I knew. But I was in his house. I was his guest and I was terribly shaken by what I had seen. I could not tell him of the revulsion I felt, so I nodded my assent.

I wanted to get away and I was unsure how to act. I had traveled with Belinda. Could I undertake the journey back alone? Could I try to explain to Belinda? She would never understand.

I rehearsed what I might say. Something like: “Your father has asked me to marry him. I can’t, so I cannot stay in his château.” No. That would not do. Belinda would never understand. She would think I was a fool to refuse her father. I could imagine her comment. “It would be wonderful for you. My father is rich and important. As for you, Lucie, you’re hardly Helen of Troy or Cleopatra. You ought to marry an older man. You’re a bit of an old sobersides yourself. Young men don’t like that. I reckon it’s the best thing that could happen to you.”

How could I explain to her: he frightens me. My flesh creeps when he comes near me. I had no idea that he had marriage in mind. I must go quickly.

The best thing to do was to get away by myself to think. If I walked in the grounds there was a good chance that I would come face-to-face with Jean Pascal. I went down to the stables and managed to ride off … unseen.

I found myself riding toward the Fitzgeralds’ house. I could not confide in them, of course, but I did feel the need for company. I experienced a great sense of relief when I met them. They were on horseback and obviously on their way somewhere.