She took us into a pleasant room.
“And Mademoiselle Maddox is from England?”
I wondered how she knew for I had not mentioned it and my accent should not have betrayed me as so far I had said very little. My name?
Pronounced as Margot pronounced it, it did not sound really English.
“Sit down, my dear child, and you. Mademoiselle. You will have some refreshment, and you must stay to dine with me. We have a good chicken and Josee is a wonderful cook.”
She picked up a piece of needlework which was lying on a chair.
“Do you still do the same wonderful embroidery, Yvette?” Margot turned to me.
“She used to put it on most of my dresses, didn’t you, Yvette?”
“I was always fond of my needle. And I hear you are betrothed?”
“Oh, did you hear that, then? Who told you?”
Yvette hesitated. Then she said: “The Comte always wants to know how I am faring and he has called on me now and then.”
This was an aspect of his character I had not hitherto suspected. I was delighted to learn of it and the knowledge filled me with elation.
Margot said: We shall be happy to share in the chicken, shall we not, Minelle? “
Still thinking of the Comte’s concern for those whom he considered to be in his care, I nodded happily.
“I must show you Yvette’s wonderful work,” went on Margot. She was out of her armchair and had taken the piece of needlework on which Yvette had been working and brought it over to me.
“See! This light feathery stitch. What is this, Yvette?” She held it up. It was a baby’s coat.
Yvette blushed and said: “I am working it for a friend,” Margot’s face puckered as it always did when she was reminded of babies. I thought then: She will never get over this until she has another child.
She folded the little coat and laid it on a chair.
“It’s very pretty,” she said.
“How is everything at the chateau?" asked Yvette.
“Much as ever. Oh no … We have had stones through the windows, haven’t we, Minelle?”
Yvette shook her head sadly.
“Sometimes I think the people are going mad. We hear little of it here but there are tales from Paris.” Then she talked of the old days and told little anecdotes about Margot’s adventures as a child. It was clear that she had a great fondness for her.
“I heard of your mother’s death,” she said. That was a great sadness.
Poor lady! Nou-Nou must be quite demented.
For her there was none but the Comtesse. She had had her a baby. I can understand that. We do not have babies of our own and our charges take that place in our hearts which v could give to our own. The bond is a strong one. Ah, I a a foolish old woman but I have always loved little babies Strange tricks of fate often give them to those who do noft want them and withhold them from those who do. Poor, poor. Nou-Nou.
I can imagine her grief. ” ?
“She is taking it very badly,” said Margot.
“What was that?”
We listened. T thought I heard a child, crying. “
“No, no,” said Yvette.
“If you will excuse me I will go to the kitchen to see how Jose is faring with the chicken. Jose and I do the cooking between us.”
As she opened the door we heard the unmistakable cry of a child.
Margot was beside her.
You have a baby here,” she said.
Yvette flushed scarlet and stammered.
“Well… for a while. I am looking after …”
Margot was up the stairs. In a few seconds she was standing at the top of them holding a baby in her arms. There was a smile of triumph on her face. I thought: God works in a mysterious way, for I knew before Yvette admitted it that we had found Chariot.
She brought him into the room, her face radiant. She sat down and held him in her lap. He was clucking and kicking and seemed clearly pleased with life in spite of the fact that a few moments before he had been crying.
“Oh, he is beautiful … beautiful,” breathed Margot; and indeed he was. Plump, well-fed, happy, he was all that a baby should be.
Yvette looked at Margot and shook her head slowly.
“You should not have come here, my dear,” she said.
“Not to see my beautiful Chariot!” cried Margot.
“Oh, I have missed my little pet. And to find him here! Yvette, you deceiver but you have cared for him well.”
“Of course I have cared for him well. Do you think I wouldn’t care well for any baby? And yours is especially dear to me. That is what the Comte said: ” I know you will give him that special care,” he said, ” because he is Marguerite’s. ” But oh, my dear, you should never have come here now that you are betrothed.
You see it was all for the best that he should come here. I don’t know what the Comte will say. “
“This is my affair,” said Margot.
“Margot,” I reminded her, ‘you must see that the best thing that could happen is for Chariot to remain here. “
She would not speak. She could not think of anything but that she had Chariot in her arms. She would not let him go and when he slept and Yvette said he must go into his cot, Margot took him upstairs. I guessed that she wanted to be alone with him and I remained with Yvette.
Yvette said to me: “Mademoiselle, I know that you have looked after Marguerite. The Comte has told me everything. He has spoken very warmly of you. I don’t know what he will say when he hears you have been here.”
“Margot’s feelings are very natural. He must understand that.”
She nodded.
“There is something else that worries me. Enquiries are being made … have been made.”
“Enquiries? What sort of enquiries?”
“About the child. Jose hears a good deal that doesn’t reach me. She goes into the town on market days. I chided her in the past for being such a gossip, but sometimes it can be useful. The fact that we have a child here cannot be kept a secret naturally and it is realized that I am looking after it for someone in a high place. The Comte’s orders were that the child should have the best of everything, and although I was not poor before, I have become more affluent since the baby has been with me. These things are noticed. Jose tells me that a gentleman, who tried to disguise himself as a travelling salesman and failed because he was clearly an aristocrat, has been asking questions. He is obviously interested in the child and is trying to find out who he is.”
T wonder,” I began and paused. Yvette was a woman whom I instinctively trusted. Moreover, she would have been in the Comte’s employ for so many years and had been selected by him to look after the child. I went on: ” Could it have been Robert de Grasseville . Margot’s fiance?”
“That was what occurred to me. It would not be difficult for someone who was ready to ferret to discover that I had been employed at the chateau. The Comte is a man of distinction. He has visited me twice since the child was brought here. He is anxious for little Charles’s welfare and he likes! to assure himself that the boy is well. He comes simply dressed! for him. Mademoiselle, but as you know, it is impossible fotlfl such men to hide hundreds of years of breeding. Sometimes this tremble when I think what the future holds.”
“I understand well. Thank you for telling me.”
There is something else. Mademoiselle. Jose hears these things. She came in one day and said that she had heard it said that the Comte was the father of the child. “
“Oh no! Surely …”
She looked at me searchingly.
“You were with Margot when the child was born. You have been at the chateau. You see …”
I was flushing, hot and indignant.