—’
Surtout,' he finished for her, 'to love you. As I do, Marmoset. This will not come between us, then, this business?'
‘ Nothing can come between us, love,' she said. 'It is good that Edward has asked John Skelwith to the ball. We shall make him welcome, and treat him just like anyone else. He will never suspect anything, and it will make up a little for the past.'
‘ How can it, if he never knows?' James said, kissing her ear. 'Not for him: for you,' she said into his hair.
CHAPTER THREE
Héloïse lost no time in calling on Mrs Skelwith. The following day, as soon as she had completed her morning tasks, she ordered the carriage to be brought to the door in half an hour, and went upstairs to dress, with Kithra and Marie at her heels.
‘ What shall it be, Marie?' she asked, staring at her reflec tion in the glass, while Kithra sat helpfully on the shoes she had just taken off. 'I must be smart, but not threatening. She will wonder how much I know, and what I intend. We are not rivals, but she may feel so. I must make just the right impres sion. It is a delicate business.'
‘Yes, madame,' Marie said reflectively.
Their eyes met. Héloïse thought suddenly of all this woman had been through with her, of fear and betrayal and death and exile, of poverty and privation and sorrow. There had been days in Paris when the air was heavy with the smell of blood; when if you walked abroad, you were careful to meet no-one's eye; when you did not know from hour to hour which friendly neighbour or faithful servant might betray you to your death. Their King and Queen had been murdered, and their country was taken from them for ever; and beside all these things, any present preoccupation with the feelings of a Yorkshire housewife must seem absurdly trivial.
Kithra, sensing an atmosphere, edged forward a little and thumped his tail on the ground. Héloïse said suddenly, 'Marie, do you remember my little dog Bluette? I wish I knew what happened to her when we fled from France.'
‘ Oh madame,' Marie said, and suddenly their arms were around each other and they were both in tears, while Kithra whined and pressed his cold, wet nose between them. It was a good and cleansing thing to do, to weep, and when they had done, they dried each other's faces and felt restored.
‘After all, James was not locked up in a box until I met him,' Héloïse said briskly, and chose the new cherry-red pelisse trimmed with grey fur, and the velvet mameluk hat with the jaunty tassel, and her big grey fur muff. There now, she addressed her reflection, do your worst, Mary Loveday. You have his son; but he is mine now. You cannot hurt me.
Her phaeton was being repaired, so it was in her prede cessor's vis-à-vis that she was driven into York. There was the usual crush of coaches and carts queueing to get over the Ouse Bridge, and she had plenty of time while they waited their turn to observe that the river was very high, and that King's Staith was flooded again. A band of workmen was labouring with grapples to rescue bales of wool from the ware house there, and some barelegged children were gathering driftwood from the murky waters.
It took a long time to manoeuvre round the junction of Ousegate and Spurriergate, where the four streams of traffic had jammed themselves almost solid, but then they were trotting along Coney Street, and Héloïse caught a glimpse of the tangle of hovels and filthy yards and tenements which lay between the main street and the river. It was just like the Paris of her childhood, she thought, where behind the rows of great houses lay another teeming world of poverty, of ragged children and dunghills and foraging pigs and chickens; and the thought was somehow comforting, as if her world were not, after all, completely lost to her.
They crossed St Helen's Square, and now they were in Stonegate. There on the corner of Little Stonegate was the Maccabbees club, the heavy red velvet curtains at the upper windows promising
Surtout,' he finished for her, 'to love you. As I do, Marmoset. This will not come between us, then, this business?'
‘ Nothing can come between us, love,' she said. 'It is good that Edward has asked John Skelwith to the ball. We shall make him welcome, and treat him just like anyone else. He will never suspect anything, and it will make up a little for the past.'
‘ How can it, if he never knows?' James said, kissing her ear. 'Not for him: for you,' she said into his hair.
CHAPTER THREE
Héloïse lost no time in calling on Mrs Skelwith. The following day, as soon as she had completed her morning tasks, she ordered the carriage to be brought to the door in half an hour, and went upstairs to dress, with Kithra and Marie at her heels.
‘ What shall it be, Marie?' she asked, staring at her reflec tion in the glass, while Kithra sat helpfully on the shoes she had just taken off. 'I must be smart, but not threatening. She will wonder how much I know, and what I intend. We are not rivals, but she may feel so. I must make just the right impres sion. It is a delicate business.'
‘Yes, madame,' Marie said reflectively.
Their eyes met. Héloïse thought suddenly of all this woman had been through with her, of fear and betrayal and death and exile, of poverty and privation and sorrow. There had been days in Paris when the air was heavy with the smell of blood; when if you walked abroad, you were careful to meet no-one's eye; when you did not know from hour to hour which friendly neighbour or faithful servant might betray you to your death. Their King and Queen had been murdered, and their country was taken from them for ever; and beside all these things, any present preoccupation with the feelings of a Yorkshire housewife must seem absurdly trivial.
Kithra, sensing an atmosphere, edged forward a little and thumped his tail on the ground. Héloïse said suddenly, 'Marie, do you remember my little dog Bluette? I wish I knew what happened to her when we fled from France.'
‘ Oh madame,' Marie said, and suddenly their arms were around each other and they were both in tears, while Kithra whined and pressed his cold, wet nose between them. It was a good and cleansing thing to do, to weep, and when they had done, they dried each other's faces and felt restored.
‘After all, James was not locked up in a box until I met him,' Héloïse said briskly, and chose the new cherry-red pelisse trimmed with grey fur, and the velvet mameluk hat with the jaunty tassel, and her big grey fur muff. There now, she addressed her reflection, do your worst, Mary Loveday. You have his son; but he is mine now. You cannot hurt me.
Her phaeton was being repaired, so it was in her prede cessor's vis-à-vis that she was driven into York. There was the usual crush of coaches and carts queueing to get over the Ouse Bridge, and she had plenty of time while they waited their turn to observe that the river was very high, and that King's Staith was flooded again. A band of workmen was labouring with grapples to rescue bales of wool from the ware house there, and some barelegged children were gathering driftwood from the murky waters.
It took a long time to manoeuvre round the junction of Ousegate and Spurriergate, where the four streams of traffic had jammed themselves almost solid, but then they were trotting along Coney Street, and Héloïse caught a glimpse of the tangle of hovels and filthy yards and tenements which lay between the main street and the river. It was just like the Paris of her childhood, she thought, where behind the rows of great houses lay another teeming world of poverty, of ragged children and dunghills and foraging pigs and chickens; and the thought was somehow comforting, as if her world were not, after all, completely lost to her.
They crossed St Helen's Square, and now they were in Stonegate. There on the corner of Little Stonegate was the Maccabbees club, the heavy red velvet curtains at the upper windows promising
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