She looked at me in some bewilderment as though she were trying to remember where we had met before. I imagined I looked very different in this gown from how I looked in my shabby riding-habit.
“I’m Dallas Lawson,” I said.
“I’m restoring the pictures.”
“You are joining us?” There was a cold surprise in her voice which I found offensive.
“On the Comte’s invitation,” I replied as coolly.
“Is that so?”
“Indeed, yes.”
Her eyes were taking in the details of my dress, assessing its cost; it seemed to surprise her as much as the Comte’s invitation.
She turned and went on ahead of me. The gesture seemed to imply that even if the Comte was so eccentric as to invite someone who was working for him to mingle with his friends, she did not wish to know me.
The guests were gathered in one of the smaller rooms near the banqueting hall. The Comte had already become deep in conversation with Mademoiselle de la Monelle and was unaware of my entrance, but Philippe made his way towards me. I fancied he knew that I might be feeling a little uneasy and had been waiting for me. Another example of his kindness.
“May I say how elegant you look.”
“Thank you. I wanted to ask you whether the Mademoiselle de la Monelle who is here is a member of the family whose collection of paintings you mentioned.”
“Why … er … yes. Her father is here too. But I hope you won’t mention this to my cousin.”
“Of course not. In any case I think it would be very unlikely that I should leave the chateau to go to her home.”
“You may think that now, but… if at any time …”
“Yes, I will remember it.”
Genevieve came over to us. She was wearing a dress of pink silk and looked rather sullen-scarcely a hint of the girl who had crowned the King for the day a short while ago.
At that moment dinner was announced and we went into the banqueting hall, where the glittering table was lit by candelabra placed at intervals.
I was seated next to an elderly gentleman who was interested in pictures and we talked together. I supposed I had been put there to entertain him. Turkey was served with chestnuts and truffles, but I did not enjoy it as I had that at the Bastides’ perhaps because I was so conscious of Mademoiselle de la Monelle seated next to the Comte, who seemed absorbed in her animated conversation.
How foolish I was to think I was attractive because I was wearing a beautiful dress! How much more foolish to imagine that he who had known many charming women would be aware of me when he was in the company of this one. Then I heard him mention my name 169
“Mademoiselle Lawson has to answer for this.”
I looked up and met his eyes, and I did not know whether he was displeased with me or merely amused.
I fancied he had disapproved of my taking his daughter to eat Christmas dinner with his work-people, that he knew I was aware of this, and that he wanted me to be in doubt of what form his disapproval would take.
Mademoiselle de la Monelle was looking at me too. Her eyes, I thought, are ice-blue, cold and calculating. She was irritated because I, for the second time this evening, had been brought to her notice.
“Yes, Mademoiselle Lawson,” went on the Comte.
“Last night we were looking at the picture and your work on my ancestress was greatly admired. She has lived under a cloud for so many years. Now she has emerged, so have her emeralds. It’s those emeralds …”
“Every so often interest in them is revived,” said Philippe.
“And, Mademoiselle Lawson, you have started the new revival.” He was looking at me in mock exasperation.
“And don’t you wish for one?” I asked.
“Who knows? One of these new outbursts of interest may result in their discovery. Last night when the pictures were examined someone suggested a treasure hunt and the cry went up. So a treasure hunt there has to be. You must join in, of course.”
Mademoiselle de la Monelle laid a hand on his arm.
“I shall be terrified to wander about this place … alone.”
Someone replied that he very much doubted she would be allowed to do that; and there was laughter in which the Comte joined.
Then he was looking at me again, the laughter still in his eyes.
“A mock treasure hunt. You’ll hear about it later. We’re going to start soon because we don’t know how long it will last. Gautier has been preparing the clues all morning. “
It was an hour or so later when the treasure hunt started.
Clues had been written on pieces of paper and hidden at certain places all over the chateau. Everyone was presented with the first clue from which they had to work out from the cryptic message where to go for the second; if they found the right place they would discover a little pile of papers there from which they would take one on which the next clue would be written; obviously the one who solved the final clue first would be the winner.
There was a great deal of chatter and exclamations of horror while they read their clues. Several of the guests went off in pairs. I could see neither the Comte, Philippe nor Genevieve and I felt as though I was in a household of strangers. No one approached me.
Perhaps they wondered why a woman who was merely in the chateau to work for the Comte should have been asked to join the party. I supposed that had I lived in France I should have gone home for Christmas; did the fact that I was here brand me as someone with nowhere to go?
I saw a young man and woman slip out hand in hand and it occurred to me that the object of a game like this was not so much to solve the clues but to give opportunities for flirtation.
I turned my attention to the clue and read:
“Go to do homage and drink if you are thirsty.”
After a few seconds’ reflection that seemed simple. To do homage was to court and in the courtyard was a well.
I made my way through the loggia to the courtyard and sure enough there on the parapet around the well was a large stone under which the clues had been put. I took one out and hurried back into the castle. I looked at the next clue, which took me to the top of the tower. The castle had been especially lighted for this occasion and on the walls candles glowed in branches of three.
By the time I discovered three of the clues I became excited by the game, and I found myself playing it with a great determination, for there is something fascinating about a treasure hunt even a game especially when it is played in an ancient chateau. And although this was a game there had been other more serious hunts. How they must have searched for those emeralds!
The sixth clue took me down to the dungeons where I had only once been before, with Genevieve. The stairs were lighted so I did not think I had been mistaken in imagining I should find the clue somewhere down there.
Down the narrow stairs I went, clinging to the rope. I was in the dungeons. No, it couldn’t be there there were no lights. Gautier would not have set a clue in this gruesome place.
I was about to mount the stairs when I heard voices just above.
“But Lothair … my dear.”
I stepped back into the darkness, although there was no need to for they were not coming down the stairs.
I heard the Comte’s voice, warm as I had never heard it before.
“I shall have to be content to have you here . always. “
“Have you thought what it will be like for me … living under the same roof?”
I should not have stood there, but I could not decide what I should do. To mount the stairs and confront them would embarrass us all.