The Silk Vendetta - The Silk Vendetta Part 42
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The Silk Vendetta Part 42

I stood up. I said coolly: "I think it is time that we were going."

Blackmail.

Katie and I returned to London, my father accompanying us because he did not want us to travel alone. I knew that he was relieved because we were going for he had been deeply affected by the Comte's pursuit-particularly after he had appeared in Paris.

"You enjoyed your visit?" he asked me tentatively.

I replied that it had been one of the most interesting periods of my life, at which he was silent.

It was wonderful to see Grand'mere again. I noticed her studying me intently, and at the earliest moment she found an opportunity of speaking to me alone.

She said: "You look different. . . younger. I saw the change in you the moment you arrived.''

I told her that I had seen Rene in the graveyard. ''I went there to look for my mother's grave," I explained.

"So you saw your father's brother. Did he speak to you?"

"Yes. He was quite friendly. He was at Heloise's grave. He knew who I was. He had heard that I was at my father's vineyards and he recognized me. He said I was very like my mother."

She nodded emotionally. "I wonder what he thought to see you there. I don't suppose he told the old man. There would have been trouble if he had."

''He really seemed more interested in my scarf than in me.''

"Your scarf?"

"Yes. I dropped it and he picked it up and saw that it was made of Sallon Silk. Then he talked about Philip. He thought he had discovered it. He was really taken aback when I told him it was Charles."

"That family thought of little else but silk. They must have been really put out when someone other than themselves discovered the Sallon method. But something else happened?"

"Do you remember the chateau there?"

"Carsonne. Of course. Everyone knows the chateau and the de la Tours."

"I met Gaston de la Tour."

"The present Comte!"

I nodded. "Oh," she said blankly.

I told her about the encounter with the dogs and our being invited to the vendange and how Katie and his son had got on so well together.

"Well, that was interesting," she said, watching me intently.

''I met him in Paris.''

"You mean he followed you to Paris."

"No. He was there when we were."

"And you saw something of him."

I nodded.

"I see. So that is it."

"What do you mean, Grand'mere . . . that is it?"

"I mean he is responsible ... for the change in you."

"I do not know that there is any change."

"You may take it from me that there is. Oh, Lenore, this is the last thing I wanted to happen. I've worried a lot about you. Since Philip's death you have been lonely."

''Lonely! With you and Katie and the Countess and Cassie?''

"I mean missing your husband."

"I miss him, of course."

"And this Gaston de la Tour ... he seems to have made an impression on you."

"He is quite an impressive person."

"You are bemused by his title and his possessions ... his power. ..."

''I suppose they are very much a part of him.''

''You saw a great deal of him?''

''We were together every day in Paris. He took me to so many places and he is so knowledgeable about art, history and architecture that he made me see things differently."

"Oh, Lenore . . . don't you see . . . ?"

"Look, Grand'mere, you are worrying unnecessarily. I came back to London, didn't I? I could have stayed in Paris. He was there."

"I know that he is attractive and that he has a way with women. His attitude towards them is quite lighthearted. He is not good for you, Lenore. I know the family well. They have lorded it over the neighbourhood for generations. They thought they had rights to any woman they fancied. That was how they lived in the old days and Carsonne has not moved with the times."

"I understand that, Grand'mere. I was aware of it all the time, but I did enjoy meeting him. He was so ... alive ... so amusing . . . and different from any man I have ever known. As you say, I have been a little dull perhaps since Philip died. I enjoyed our meetings but I never lost sight of what our friendship meant to him and what his ultimate aim was. I was as determined that he should not reach it as he was determined to. It needs two people to come to a decision like that, Grand'mere, and we were not in agreement on it. I know what is in your mind so I will assure you that I am still a chaste widow."

"There would be heartbreak with that one. I am sorry you met him."

"Don't be, Grand'mere. It was an experience . . . and I am none the worse for it.''

She sighed with relief. "Thank God you are home."

''Katie admired him,'' I told her.' 'He was charming to her.''

"But of course he would be. He saw his way through her to you. Mon Dieu, I should have been worried if I had known it had gone so far."

"I was always aware of the sort of man he is."

"But I can see that you were not unaffected."

"Well frankly, it would have been difficult not to be. When I was there I heard about Rene's daughter, Heloise. She killed herself because of an unfaithful lover. It is generally believed that the Comte was the man in the case. He would take a delight in seducing a St. Allengere. That feud has been going on for a long time. That sort of thing is so senseless. I believe my grandfather is not the saint he makes himself out to be."

"You are right. A bigger hypocrite was never born."

"So I gathered. Passions run high in your native land, Grand'mere. Knowing all this I am not likely to want to get involved, am I?"

"That's true enough. I often think of how pleased I was when you and Philip were married. Such a good man he was. I thought you were settled for life. I was so content."

''But one never knows what is going to happen, Grand'mere.''

"Alas, that is true. To think that it went wrong . . . Then I wanted you and that Drake Aldringham . . . Now there was a man one could trust. I never cease to regret that went wrong."

"You can't make life work out just as you want it to." She nodded. I asked her about the business and what had been happening during my absence; and I began to think of Drake. His image had dimmed considerably since my meeting with Gaston de la Tour.

Cassie was delighted to see us back. She told me how much she had missed Katie and me.

"Sometimes I wish we were all together as we were in the beginning," she said. "The Paris salon has split us up."

"You should go over to Paris, Cassie. You would enjoy it."

She shook her head. ''I'm better here."

It was true she was invaluable to the London salon. She had become an excellent business woman; she was determined to make the best of life, to forget her disabilities and concentrate on her assets. She and Grand'mere had become very close and worked well together.

After she had shown me what was going on in the workroom-her special domain for she had an aversion to dealing with clients-she told me how worried she was about Julia.

"She is drinking more heavily than ever. People are talking about it. They are saying that Drake made the biggest mistake of his life. He married her to further his career and she is turning out to be an impediment. I visit her. Drake isn't there much. Julia is unhappy. I think she cares for him quite a lot ... but he can't return her affection. He stays away and is in that country place most of the time. I don't think it is helping his career. I have seen them together now and then . . . and I think he has come near to hating her.''

"How very sad."

"You must come and see her sometimes. She probably knows that you are back and will be hurt if you don't.''

"But I don't think she wants to see me."

"She does. She is always talking about you."

"I'll come one day then."

So I went with Cassie to Julia's house which was now Drake's London headquarters.

When we were ushered into the drawing room I was amazed to see the change in Julia. She had grown very fat; her colour was deeper and tinged with purple; her eyes were a little glazed.

I was greeted effusively.

"Lenore. . . recently come from Paris! You look it, my dear, doesn't she, Cassie? So elegant! How do you keep so thin"? I'm overflowing everywhere. . . even my maid sees that it is useless to force myself into my corsets. There comes a time when you give up trying to look what you are not. Have some sherry. Cassie, ring the bell. Tell them to bring some of those wine biscuits."

Cassie obeyed and Julia poured out the sherry-an ample one for herself, I noticed.

"Well, this is fun!" she said, lifting her glass. "Like old times. Do you remember ... at The Silk House. Quite a lot has happened since then. Poor Philip gone. . . and you a widow, Lenore. Did you ever think of marrying again?" Was there something sour in her look? Was she implying that she remembered how it was once between Drake and me?

"I've remained a widow," I said.

"Poor Lenore! It must be from choice."

I did not answer. She refilled her glass and drank quickly.

"Being a political wife is not all that much fun, you know," she said. "I sometimes think I should have been like you, Lenore, and remained a widow." She shrugged her shoulders. "Well, as long as one knows how to enjoy oneself."

Cassie looked uneasy and I was wondering how soon we could take our leave when Drake came in.

Julia was suddenly alert; she set down her glass; and I wondered whether she had arranged our meeting for a time when he would be there. She was watching Drake intently. He could not hide his surprise . . . and pleasure ... at seeing me.

"Why, Lenore," he said, advancing and taking my hands.

"It is nice to see you, Drake," I said.

"I heard you were in Paris."

"I have not been back so very long."

''Have a glass of sherry, darling,'' said Julia.

"No thank you."

She pouted. "I suppose you think I have had too much."

"I did not mention the fact."

"No, but you looked it. When you marry, Lenore, make sure you don't get a critical husband. They are such a bore."

Drake did not answer. He turned to me. "I hope all is going well with the Paris branch."

"Very well indeed. The Countess is a wonderful business woman."

"I suppose you all are. Cassie tells us things are working out well."

There was silence.

"You should have gone in for that line of business, Drake, instead of politics,'' said Julia. ''It might not have kept you away from home so much . . . if that is what keeps you away."

The colour in her face had deepened. I wondered how much she had drunk before we arrived. She turned to us. "He is so rarely at home ... only flying visits when it is essential for him to be in Town. He longs to be back in the country, don't you, Drake? All that nursing of the silly old constituency. It's not very grateful, is it? Last time he scraped in with a minute majority."