‘Darkness!’ she wailed. ‘Aaargh! Aaargh! The emptiness! The void! Everything is darkness!’
‘She puts on a fine show,’ said Frederique in a stage whisper.
‘I put on no show,’ said the woman, turning to him sharply. ‘Never have I felt such emptiness, such terror and such darkness. The cold, it terrifies me. It turns my bones to ice. But you, ma belle,’ she said, giving her attention once more to Elizabeth and looking at her earnestly, ‘you are of the light. You must beware. There are dangers all around you. Believe this, if you believe nothing else. The forest is full of strange creatures, and there are monsters in many guises. Not all who walk on two legs are men. Not all who fly are beasts. And not all who travel the path of ages will pass through into the shadow.’
Elizabeth could make nothing of the old woman’s words, but she was impressed despite herself by the woman’s intensity and her glittering eye.
‘Mais oui,’ said the old woman, nodding. ‘You begin to believe. You have seen things in your dreams. And you are not the first. No, assuredly you are not the first. There was a young woman like you, many years ago, who came to this castle. They called her la gentille, because she was kind and good, and because she loved the flower gentiane. She wore a spray of it always in her hair. She was young and in love, and like all young women in love, she thought she could conquer everything. And she was right, for love, it can conquer everything if it is deep and true. But when the terror came, she doubted. And when the horror came, she fled. Through the forests she ran, and the wolves, they pursued her and in the end, they ran her down. Take care! Take care! There is darkness all around you. Do not falter. Do not doubt, or you too will share her fate.’
Elizabeth stared into the old woman’s eyes, chilled, despite herself, by the woman’s words. Then a touch on her arm brought her back to her senses—to the drawing room with the dancing candles and the air of bonhomie and good cheer—and she laughed at herself for being drawn in by the fortune-teller, and she agreed with the other guests that they had all been well entertained.
The woman was paid handsomely by the Count, but as she walked out of the door, Elizabeth glanced at Darcy and she could see that he was not smiling. Instead, his look was dour.
There was much laughter as the fortune-teller’s visit was discussed and then it was dismissed as attention once again turned to the game of cards. They separated into groups and played at cribbage, with Elizabeth coming second to Clothilde in her group and Darcy winning in his.
‘Darcy, he always wins,’ said Louis.
‘Not always,’ said Darcy, and a shadow crossed his face.
But then it was gone.
The evening at last drew to an end. One by one, the guests said their goodnights and withdrew to their rooms. Elizabeth excused herself and she too retired. It was cold in her room, the fire having burnt down low. She undressed quickly and was soon in bed. But as she was about to blow out the candle she caught sight of the tapestry and something caught her eye. She lifted the candle to see it better and she saw to her horror that the woman peering out from the mass of strange creatures was wearing a spray of gentian in her hair.
Chapter 7
It was as she had suspected, thought Elizabeth the following morning as she made ready to visit the hunting lodge with Darcy, the fortune-teller was one of the Count’s friends. How else could the woman have gained access to the castle, and how else could she have known about the figure in the tapestry? But even so, the evening had left its mark, and Elizabeth found it difficult to put it out of her mind. There had been something uncanny about the woman, and her story had seemed out of keeping for someone wanting to entertain a group of friends.
As the coach rolled out of the gate, Elizabeth found herself glad to be leaving the castle, even for a short time. She was not looking forward to the journey through the forest, but to her surprise, she found that it had taken on a different aspect in the daylight. Gone were the dark and gloomy shadows and in their place were dancing sunbeams and sunlit clearings. The undergrowth was full of nature’s bounty, with nuts and berries growing profusely, and here and there she could see patches of mushrooms, too.
‘When we were children, Jane and I used to take a basket and go out blackberrying,’ said Elizabeth. ‘We would set out early in the morning and Hill would give us whatever she could spare from the larder, a piece of chicken pie, perhaps, with an apple and a slice of cake. We would go out into the fields and woods round about Longbourn, and we would spend the day filling the basket. We would at last return home, laden down with fruit, tired but happy. Kitty and Lydia would dance around us and Mary would look up from her pianoforte and her eyes would gleam. Mama would scold us for dirtying our dresses—or at least she would scold me, for Jane never ruined her clothes—and Papa would smile at us and say we had done well. Having shown off our spoils to the rest of the family, we would take the basket to the kitchen. Hill would say that it was the finest crop she had ever seen and she would bake a pie for tea. I well remember the taste of that first blackberry pie of the season; it always tasted better than any other.’
Darcy smiled and said, ‘I used to pick fruit in these very forests. I always felt free out here in the wilds. At Pemberley I was conscious of being the master and I had to set an example to those around me. Here I could be myself. I would wander through the forests from morning to night and not go home until dark.’
‘Were you not afraid of the wolves, or did you have outriders to watch over you even then?’
‘No, I didn’t have outriders, and no, I wasn’t afraid. I knew how to protect myself.’
She thought of the education of an English gentleman and knew that he would have learned to handle a sword and pistols, just as she had learnt to sew and paint. She imagined him walking through the forest self-reliant and unafraid.
‘Were your parents happy for you to wander?’
‘Yes, they were,’ he said. ‘They never prevented me from doing anything I wanted to do, and besides, they thought it was good for me to be out of doors.’
‘Did you used to stay at the hunting lodge, or did you stay with the Count at the castle?’
‘To begin with I stayed with the Count, but later I stayed in the hunting lodge.’
‘Do you have many hunting lodges?’ she asked.
‘Five. There used to be seven but two of them were in such a poor state of repair that I disposed of them some time ago. I seldom travel to Europe now; my time is tied up with Pemberley.’
‘The Pemberley estate is even bigger than I imagined and it stretches farther than I ever realised,’ said Elizabeth as she reflected, not for the first time, that she had moved into a very different sphere of life. ‘I knew about the house in London and Pemberley, of course, but not of anything in Europe.’
‘There used to be a town house in Paris but it was destroyed in the revolution. When the storm has finally spent itself, I intend to rebuild the house, or perhaps buy another house there.’
‘Do you think the wars with France will ever come to an end?’
He nodded.
‘Everything does eventually, and I hope it will be sooner rather than later,’ he said. ‘There are other properties in Europe, too, and there are smaller properties scattered throughout England, all of which I hope to show you in time.’
Elizabeth thought of how her mother’s eyes would widen at the thought of properties in Europe, as well as properties scattered throughout England. She could almost hear her mother telling Lady Lucas and Mrs Long all about it!