‘You would like me to make you a woman?’ he said nastily.
She looked down as he lifted a hand and laid it over her
breast. Then she looked back to his face.
‘Why do you want to marry me, Claudine?’ he said.
‘Does there have to be a reason?’
His eyes narrowed, then it was suddenly as if the fight had
gone out of him, and shaking his head slowly, he said, ‘No,’ and put his hand back on the table beside him.
It was odd, she thought, that the only sensation she could
feel was his hand on her breast, even though he had taken it
away. She knew that at any moment the life would return to
her body, that she would be able to move again, but as long
as his eyes held hers it was as though she was imprisoned by
his scrutiny.
As if he knew the effect he was having on her, his mouth
curled in disdain. ‘You’ll live to regret this day, Claudine.
You think yourself clever now for the way you wrenched a
proposal from me, but in a year from now, ten years from
now, you’ll look back on this day…’ He stopped, and as his
eyes swept across her lips she felt her breath start to
quicken. ‘What does it matter?’ he said. ‘It’s your life, not
mine. If you want to throw it away… Shall we set the date?’
Before she could answer, the door burst open and Solange
came bounding across the room in a hair-net and dressing
gown. ‘Oh la la, I knew it was going to happen today!’ she cried,
garnering Claudine into her arms. ‘I had the feeling, in the
middle of the night. I woke Louis to tell him. Oh, Francois, mm chert, she is going to make you such a wonderful wife. I am so happy. We must tell Jean-Paul to bring the champagne.
Monique! Where is Monique! She must call Celine and tell
her to come right away. Ah, Claudine, you are going to make
my Louis such a happy man today.’
As Claudine returned the embrace, her eyes found
Francois’, and with the briefest flicker of his brows he
acknowledged his defeat.
‘I don’t suppose,’ she said, as Solange went rushing off to
find Jean-Paul, ‘that I stand any chance of a more romantic
proposal?’
‘You suppose correctly.’
She leaned her head to one side and studied him for a
while. ‘Do you really despise me?’
‘It is difficult to despise someone for whom one has no
feelings at all.’
A smile spread across her lips, then she began to laugh as
she retrieved her hat and crop and walked to the door.
When she reached it, she glanced back over her shoulder.
‘As I said before, I am going to marry a liar,’ she declared,
and with a triumphant grin she turned to follow Solange
from the room.
The engagement was announced, the date for the wedding
was set: it was to take place at the Royal Abbey of
Fontevraud at the beginning of September, less than three
months away. The haste was because Beavis could remain
in France only until mid-September, when he was obliged
to leave for a spell of duty in Berlin - but Claudine was used
to having her calendar dictated by the diplomatic corps, and
she felt too that, given the circumstances, a long engagement
would be nothing short of a farce. As far as she was
concerned, the quicker they were married the better.
Francois expressed no feelings on the matter at all.
He remained at Lorvoire for five days after the
announcement of their engagement, then left for Paris.
While he was gone he made no contact with Claudine,
though she knew he was regularly in touch with his father. She could not decide whether she was glad that his disturbing presence was removed from her, or whether - in
some curious way she could not define - she missed him.
Once or twice she allowed herself to consider what he had
told her about Hortense, but she did not dwell on it, for she
was quite convinced he had been lying. She also tried to
dismiss from her mind the peculiar emotions he stirred in
her - and did her best to spend a calm and cheerful time
helping Solange and Tante Celine with the wedding
arrangements.
Then, one morning, four days before he’d said he would
return, Claudine arrived at Lorvoire to find Francois’ car
parked in the courtyard outside the wine caves. At the sight
of the large black Citroen her heart somersaulted violently,
and as she drew up alongside it, she saw him standing just
inside the entrance to one of the caves talking to Armand St
Jacques. Slowly she climbed from the car, waiting for him to
see her, but when he did eventually look up, he merely
turned away again and continued his conversation.
Seething with indignation, and without even thinking
what she would say when she got there, she marched
towards him. Before she reached the cave Armand came
out, and seeing the look on her face, instantly made himself
scarce.
Claudine barely noticed him. Francois had his back to
her now, and seemed intent on the bottles lined up on a
counter in front of him. Hearing her footsteps, he looked
up, and the harsh impatience that flashed across his face
inflamed her temper even further.
‘What are you doing here?’ he snapped, before she could
speak.
She stared at him, her anger for the moment blunted by
his rudeness.
‘Why haven’t you returned to England?’ he demanded.
‘England?’ she repeated stupidly.
For several moments he glared at her, then with a shrug
he said, ‘Do you not have affairs to attend to in England?’
‘No,’ she answered, anger tightening her beautiful
features. ‘My father’s lawyers and the staff at Rafferty
Lodge are dealing with matters there.’
‘So you are staying here, in Touraine, until we are
married?’
‘Unless you have any objection?’
He gave a derisive laugh. Then suddenly his eyes were
hard, and leaning his face towards hers, he hissed, ‘What do
you want from me?’
‘Nothing? she seethed, cowering from the venom in his
voice.
‘Then go! Go away from here. I don’t want you!’
She couldn’t help flinching at the malice in his voice, but
quickly mustering the full might of her fury, she said, ‘If you
think your atrocious behaviour is going to make me change
my mind, then think again, Francois. The only way you’re
going to get out of this marriage now is to call it off yourself.’
For a long moment they glared at one another. Then, to
her horror, Claudine found that she was remembering the
feel of his fingers as they curled about her breast. The shock
of the pleasure it gave her slaked through her body as
powerfully as the loathing which hammered at her heart.
She struggled to break free of those eyes, but she was bound
by their magnetism. Her senses were reeling, she felt she
would drown in the sheer force of him. Then she saw the
sneer on his lips, the contempt that disfigured his face more
brutally than the scar, and at last she was able to turn away.
She was dazed by what was happening to her: she knew she
hated him, yet she felt so drawn to him that at times it was as
though she were in danger of losing herself in him.
In the dining-room of the chateau she found Solange
waiting for her, her lively grey hair standing on end and
Louis’ spectacles perched on the tip of her nose. The table
in front of her was in chaos, strewn with cards and
envelopes, lists and letters. Today they were to begin the
enormous task of sending out invitations. Solange looked so
bemused that Claudine felt a great wave of affection for her,
and dismissing Francois from her mind, she sat down to
help.
She didn’t see him again until midday, when Tante
Celine arrived for lunch and he walked into the dining
room with her. Claudine got up to greet her aunt, studiously
ignoring Francois, but as she was about to sit down again he
put a hand on her arm. ‘I’ve brought you something from
Paris,’ he said.
Claudine stared at him. She watched him reach into his
pocket and pull out a small box bearing the insignia of Van
Cleef and Arpels. He did not look at her as he put the box
into her hand, but simply stepped back, waiting for her to
look inside.
When she did, her mouth fell open. Beside her Tante
Celine gasped, and Solange clapped her hands in delight.
The diamond was flawless and the size of a centime.
Claudine looked up at Francois, but he was staring at the
ring, his face devoid of expression. But as she lifted it from
the velvet crease to raise it to the light, he took it from her,
picked up her left hand and slid the diamond onto the third
finger. It was a perfect fit.
‘I hope you like it,’ he said softly.
Again she looked up at him, dimly aware that her
breathing had all but stopped. ‘I like it very much,’ she
answered.
He nodded, and with a flicker of one eyebrow, he turned
and walked from the room.
After that, Claudine threw herself into the wedding plans
with renewed enthusiasm - while Solange took to rushing
about Lorvoire creating one muddle after another. After
three days Louis threw up his hands in despair, declaring
that he’d given up all hope of ever knowing a moment’s
peace again, while Francois complained that he had not
been embraced so often since he was an infant.
‘Oh Maman, not again,’ he would groan as she clasped
him to her, but there was a gentleness in his eyes as he kissed
her that brought a lump to Claudine’s throat. For her there
was no such display of affection; for all the attention he paid
her she might just as well not have been there. But all that
would change once they were married, she told herself, and
treating him to the same chilly disdain as he showed her, she
went about her business.
A week after he’d given her the ring, Francois went away
again, informing her, through Tante Celine, that she should
not expect him back before the end of the month. After his
departure, at Solange’s insistence, Claudine became a daily
visitor at Lorvoire in order that she should get to know the
household better. It was a happy time for them all: the old
gramophone was dragged from a cupboard, and she and
Solange whirled about the neglected ballroom while Louis
sat quietly in a corner, his round glasses teetering on the end
of his nose and his feet tapping to the spritely rhythm.
As that scorchingly hot summer progressed the chateau
saw other visitors too, as noble families from all over the
region beat a path to Lorvoire, eager to get a glimpse of the
English beauty who was to marry Francois. The hospitality
they received was, by normal standards, unusual: there were
games of cache-cache in the forest and rowing races on the
river, cricket on the sloping bank of the meadow and
dancing in the courtyard. But they all seemed to enjoy
themselves, and on the rare occasions Francois was at
home, though he never deigned to join in, Claudine
occasionally caught him smiling. But never at her. For her
there was only the stark hostility she was coming to know so
well. But why should she care, she asked herself defiantly,
when everyone else welcomed her so warmly?
The wedding was drawing closer, and it was time to leave
the chateau and go to Paris, where Claudine’s wedding
gown was being created by the House of Worth, and almost
every other designer of note had a hand in her trousseau. Claudine and Tante Celine stayed with the de Lorvoires at the house in the Bois de Boulogne, where the afternoon
parties, while not quite as unorthodox as those at Lorvoire,
were nonetheless lively. In return they were bombarded
with invitations to the theatre and the ballet, to private
concerts and to dinner with friends, and once, but only
once, they went in a party of twelve to the most famous
cabaret in Paris, the Lapin a Gill. The original plan had been
to visit the BalBullier where, so Claudine had heard, it was
difficult to tell the men from the women, and ladies of the
night paraded naked through the ballroom - but Louis had
drawn the line at that.
That was towards the end of August, and Francois returned
from a three-week trip to North Africa the morning after their
exotic night out. He was highly amused to hear that his parents
had set foot inside such an establishment, and rather regretted
that he could not stay, he said, if this was the kind of
entertainment they were going in for - but he must leave again
the following day as he had business to attend to in Marseilles,
and he wanted to call in at Lorvoire on the way, not only to see
Armand but also to check on the work that was being carried
out on his apartment in the west wing of the chateau, to make it
ready for Claudine.
Claudine experienced some very strange feelings when
she heard that, but she showed none of them when he
joined their party at the theatre that night, where he sat
beside her, watching as she offered her left hand to those