“Lothair!” It was Claude standing there frowning at us.
“What on earth has happened? You were there … and then you suddenly disappeared.”
He dropped his hand and turned to her.
“I had a mess age,” he said.
“An urgent message. Mademoiselle Lawson has made a miraculous discovery.”
“What?” She came towards us and looked from him to me.
“A most miraculous discovery!” he repeated, looking at me.
“What is this all about?”
“Look!” said the Comte.
“She has exposed a painting … a valuable one, apparently.”
“That! It looks like a smudge of paint.”
“You say that, Claude, because you do not see it with the artist’s eye. Now Mademoiselle Lawson tells me that it is part of a portrait by an artist of great talent because of the way the paint is put on.”
“You have forgotten that we are riding this morning.”
“Such a discovery make my forgetfulness excusable, I don’t you agree, Mademoiselle Lawson?” ^ “It is very rarely that such discoveries are made,” I replied.
“We are late already,” said Claude, without looking at me.
“You must tell me more some other time. Mademoiselle Lawson,” said the Comte, as he followed her to the door; but as he reached it, he turned to smile at me. Claude saw the look which passed between us and I was aware of the intensity of her dislike.
That thought was almost more intoxicating than anything else that had happened.
I worked with an intensity during the next few days which I knew to be dangerous; but by the end of three days I had uncovered more of the figure and as each inch was exposed I grew more and more certain that I was right in thinking that the painting was valuable.
One morning, however, I had a shock, for when I was working on one part of the lime-wash I uncovered something I could not understand. A letter emerged. There was writing on the wall. Something which might confirm the date of the painting? My hand was trembling. Perhaps I should have stopped work until I felt more calm, but that would be asking too much. I had uncovered the letters BLI. I worked carefully round them and I had “oubliez.” I could not give up. Before the morning was over, by working with great care I had the words “Ne m’oubliez pas,”
“Forget me not.” I was certain too that they had been painted at a much later date than the portrait which was now half-exposed.
It was something to show the Comte. He came to the room and we examined it together. He shared my excitement, or made a good pretence of doing so.
The door opened behind me. I was smiling as I carefully pressed the edge of the knife to the border of the lime-wash. He is growing as excited by this discovery as I am and finding it difficult to keep away, I thought.
There was a deep silence in the room and as I turned the smile must have faded quickly from my face for it was not the Comte who stood there but Claude.
She gave me a half-smile which seemed to cover a certain embarrassment. I could not understand this new mood.
“I heard you had discovered some words,” she said.
“May I see?” She came close to the wall and peered at it murmuring “Ne m’oubhez pas” ” Then she turned to me, her eyes puzzled.
“How did you know it was there?”
“It’s an instinct perhaps.”
“Mademoiselle Lawson …” She hesitated as though she found it difficult to say what was on her mind.
“I’m afraid I’ve been rather hasty. The other day… You see, I was alarmed for Genevieve.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“And I thought… I thought that the best thing …”
“Would be for me to go?”
“It wasn’t only Genevieve.”
I was taken aback. Was she going to confide in me? Was she going to tell me that she was jealous of the Comte’s regard for me? Impossible!
“You may not believe me, but I was thinking of you, too. My husband has spoken to me of you. We both feel that…” She frowned and looked at me helplessly.
“We feel you might want to get away.”
“Why?”
“There could be reasons. I just wanted you to know that I’ve heard of a possibility … a really exciting one. Between us, my husband and I could probably arrange a brilliant opportunity for you. I know how interested you are in old buildings and I dare say you would welcome the chance to examine in detail some of our old churches and abbeys.
And of course the picture galleries. “
“I should, of course, but…”
“Well, we have heard of a little project. A party of ladies are planning a tour to inspect the treasures of France. They want a guide someone who has a deep knowledge of what they will see. Naturally they would not want a man to accompany them, and so they thought that if there were such a lady who could conduct them and explain to them … It’s a unique chance. It would be well paid and I can assure you it would lead to excellent opportunities. It would enhance your reputation and I know give you an entry into many of our oldest families. You would be in great demand, for the ladies who wish to make this tour are all art-fanciers and have collections of their own. It seems such an excellent opportunity.”
I was amazed. She was certainly eager to be rid of me. Yes, indeed, she must be jealous!
“It sounds a fascinating project,” I said.
“But this work …” I waved my hand towards the wall.
“You will finish it shortly. Consider this project. I really think you should.”
She was like a different person. There was a new gentleness about her.
I could almost believe that she was genuinely concerned for me. I thought of making a minute examination of the treasures of France; I thought of discussing these with people who were as interested in them as I was. She could not have offered a more dazzling bait.
“I can get more details for you,” she said eagerly.
“You will think about it, Mademoiselle Lawson?”
She hesitated again as though she would say more, and, deciding against it, left me.
I was puzzled. She was either a jealous woman who was ready to go to great lengths to be rid of me, or she was warning me against the Comte. She might be implying: Be careful. See how he uses women.
Myself. married to Philippe for his convenience; Gabrielle married to Jacques. What will happen to you if you stay here and let him govern your life for that little while it pleases him to do so?
But in my heart I believed she suspected the Comte had some regard for me, and wanted me out of the way. It was an exhilarating thought.
But. for how long? Then I thought of the proposition she had laid before me. It was one which an ambitious woman eager to advance in her profession would be foolish to reject. It was a chance which came once in a lifetime.
When I thought of that and the possibilities the future held for me here in the chateau, I was tormented with doubts and fears and the hopes of wild, and what my good sense told me were hopeless, impossibilities.
I called on Gabrielle. She was noticeably pregnant but she seemed very happy. We talked about the coming baby and she showed me the layette she was preparing.
I asked after Jacques and then she talked to me more frankly than she had done before.
“Having a baby changes you. The things that seemed important before no longer seem anything but trivial. The child is all-important. I can’t understand now why I was so frightened. If I had told Jacques we could have arranged something. But I was so scared… and now it all seems so foolish.”
“What does Jacques feel?”
“He scolds me for being so foolish. But I was afraid because we’d wanted to marry for so long and we knew we couldn’t because we had his mother to support. We just could not have managed to live … the three of us.”