The Launching of Roger Brook (57 page)

Read The Launching of Roger Brook Online

Authors: Dennis Wheatley

De Caylus bowed very deeply, first to the Sovereigns, then to Athénaïs. Roger could not see her face but he knew what she must be feeling and he feared that she might faint under the shock. But with the self-discipline that was one of the virtues of her caste she went through the prescribed formalities without even a tremor. Having sunk almost to the ground in a graceful curtsey she slowly rose to her full height and extended her right hand. The King took it and placed it in M. de Caylus’s left. Then raising his goblet the Monarch toasted the affianced pair. A moment later the great marquee was ringing with the cheers of the splendid company.

The King gave his arm to the Queen. With her on his left and M. de Rochambeau one pace behind him to his right
they led the way up the grand staircase to supper. Athénaïs and M. de Caylus walked immediately behind them, then came the chastely beautiful Princess de Lamballe, who was in attendance on the Queen, escorted by Comte Lucien de Rochambeau and, after them, the Princes, Ambassadors and nobles followed in strict order of precedence.

It took twenty minutes for the marquee to empty, and for most of that time Roger’s brain refused to work. The thought of Athénaïs married to de Caylus made him almost physically sick, yet he knew that the vast majority of those who had witnessed the betrothal took a completely different view of the matter. They would not give a thought to the human, personal side of the affair but regard the alliance as eminently suitable.

Their attitude to such matters was brought home to him afresh by seeing the Abbé die Périgord with the young and lovely Countess de Flahaut, whom everybody openly regarded as his wife in all but name, going upstairs to supper. By right of birth the Abbé should have been the Count de Talleyrand-Périgord but, simply because he had met with an accident when a child, his father had deprived him of his right to inherit both title and estates, and forced him against his will to go into the Church. Yet the Abbé bore no resentment against his father; he recognised that in all things family must come first.

How Roger got through the remaining hours of the ball he never afterwards remembered. At one time he looked everywhere for M. de la Tour d’Auvergne, but could not find him, and so assumed that, overcome with distress, he had gone home. In due course their Majesties, surrounded by their personal attendants, guards and trumpeters, were ushered to the long train of coaches that would bear the Royal party back to the Palais des Tuilleries. Soon afterwards Athénaïs, a fixed, strained smile on her face, which was chalk-white under her rouge, begged to be excused; but the dancing and hollow-sounding laughter seemed to go on interminably. At last the crowd began to thin but, owing to the congestion in the narrow street outside, it could not get away very rapidly. Roger saw that it would be another hour at least before all the guests had gone and, deciding that he could stand it no longer, went up to his room.

When he reached it the summer dawn was already breaking,
so he saw at once the small, huddled figure sprawled face downwards on his bed. It took him only a second to guess that when Athénaïs’s maids had left her for the night she must have crept up to the playroom and crossed the roof to climb in at his window. Throwing himself on his knees beside the bed, he took her in his arms.

She was so distraught with grief that, for a time, she could only sob her heart out on his chest and murmur:

‘Oh,
Rojé, Rojé
, what am I to do? I cannot bear it. I cannot bear it.’

With the comfort of his arms about her, gradually her paroxysms of weeping eased, and she said bitterly: ‘Why, with half the gentlemen in France to choose from, must my father give me to that loathsome creature. I would have done my best to make de la Tour d’Auvergne happy; I could have borne with de Porcin, or played a mother’s part to little de la Roche-Aymon. But the very thought of this beast repels me. Oh,
Rojé
, what shall I do?’

‘Can you not appeal to the Queen,’ he suggested. ‘She is said to be kind-hearted, and you say she likes you. Surely she would speak to your father?’

Athénaïs shook her head. ‘Nay, ’twould be useless, dear love. The Queen is kind, but a martinet where duty is concerned. All the world knows how she must have suffered herself when she first came to Court as a beautiful young bride. The King has never been renowned for his address, and so oafish was he as a young Prince that ’twas seven years before he could bring himself to sleep with her. Everyone knew of her humiliation, yet she bore it with quiet pride, and expects others to face things disagreeable to them in a like manner. She would never interfere in a family matter such as this.’

Roger hesitated only a moment, before he said: ‘Then there is only one thing for it. We must elope together.’

She started up and clutched his wrist. ‘Elope! How can we,
Rojél
Where could we go?’

To England, angel.’

‘But did you not tell me that your father had forbidden you his house?’

‘’Tis true,’ he admitted. ‘But at least I am no servant there. My mother would help us, and in time my father will come round.’

‘Are you sure of that? I love you,
Rojé;
oh, I love you
dearly; yet I know only too well that I should make but a poor wife for a pauper.’

‘All will be well. I’m certain of it,’ he said as firmly as he could manage.

During the past nine months he had thought a hundred times of asking her to run away with him, but he had always put the thought from him because he had so terribly little to offer her. It was for that reason he had hesitated a moment back, before proposing such a desperate expedient. He knew that his mother would help them, as far as she could, but she had not a penny of her own; and, if his father remained adamant, even the best employment he could hope to get would produce an income that, to Athénaïs, would seem little better than penury. Yet, save her he must from De Caylus, and this seemed the only possible way that offered; so he went on with more confidence.

‘I’ve a hundred and fifty
louis
saved, which would keep us in reasonable comfort for a while. Then your jewels, with those you received tonight, must be worth a small fortune. God forbid that I should live on you like some shiftless adventurer; but they would provide a sheet anchor, were there some delay in my obtaining a suitable appointment. That should not be hard, though, after the experience I’ve had with your father. We would not be rich, but I’ve confidence in myself now, and once given a decent opening I vow I could earn enough to keep us like gentlefolk. And we’d have each other.’

She flung her arms round his neck. ‘Oh,
Rojé
, dear miller’s youngest son; I’ve not a doubt but that in time you’ll make your fortune, and I’d be content to wait for that. I hate the Court, with all its boring ceremonies and stupid etiquette. I’ll leave it gladly if you can make enough so that we’ll not starve.’

‘Very well!’ he cried, pressing her to him. ‘Oh, my beloved! I swear you’ll not regret it. My father will come round. He could not do otherwise once he sees you. But that apart, we’ll make a place for ourselves and have such joy in doing it. With you to work for nothing can stop me.’

‘I know it,’ she laughed, turning her tear-stained face up to him. ‘As for my jewels, they are yours to do as you wish with. Then what you earned could be devoted wholly to food, clothes and servants, and—and children, if they came to us.’

‘I hope they do. I’d adore to have a daughter just like you.’

‘Oh, but I must have a son first. A son,
Rojé
, with your blue eyes and those lovely, long dark lashes.’

‘We’ll have both, dear heart; and more if you wish. Would you like lots of children?’

‘Yes. And I would keep them with us in our home. I’d not let them be put out to nurse as is the custom here in France.’

‘I wouldn’t let you, anyway,’ he smiled. ‘There is little point in having children unless one has the fun of playing with them.’

‘And telling them stories,’ she added. ‘I know so many lovely fairy stories that I shall be able to tell ours.’

‘Our own story is better than any fairy tale, and you will be able to tell them that, my sweet Princess.’

‘Dear miller’s youngest son! I fear I’ll find it very strange in England at first, though. Shall we live in London?’

He nodded. ‘Yes, since ’tis there that I shall find my best opportunities. And with you for my wife I’ll be the proudest man in the whole city.’

‘Your wife!’ she whispered.

Suddenly she gripped his arms with all her strength and her fingers dug into his muscles.

‘Your wife!’ she breathed again. ‘But,
Rojé
, I had forgot. I never think of you as one, but—but you are a heretic. I could never marry a heretic.’

He too had temporarily forgotten that last sinister barrier, of man-made bigotry, intolerance and superstition, which, towering high above all others, still separated them.

‘You would be an Englishwoman if you married me,’ he muttered, still dazed from the sudden shock to all the castles in the air they had been building. ‘And nearly everyone in England is a Protestant.’

‘Don’t ask me to recant!’ she cried. ‘Don’t ask me, I beg. I couldn’t do it. ’Twould be to imperil my immortal soul.’

All Roger’s love for her, all the mental pictures of the dream world they had been creating and his acute reluctance to leave her in her present desperate situation, fought within him against the inherited teachings of the Reformation; yet they were not strong enough to prevail entirely.

‘I’d give my life for you,’ he said slowly. ‘I would lay it
down tomorrow; but I hesitate to risk my hopes of salvation.’

‘Then how can we marry? Oh,
Rojé
, will you not think again, and be received into the Catholic Church?’

‘I cannot promise that. I must have time to consider it. But wait! Does not the Pope grant dispensations in special cases? If we could secure one we might yet be married in your Church but each continue in our own religions.’

She looked up suddenly, with new hope shining in her eyes. ‘’Tis true; and there lies the way out of our difficulty. Such dispensations are costly, I believe; but, if need be, the price of my jewels must go for that. And, for your part, ’twould be necessary only for you to sign a promise that any children of the marriage he brought up in the Roman faith.’

‘What say you!’ he exclaimed. ‘Commit unborn children to follow a faith of which they have no knowledge! Nay, that I would never do. My soul is my own to jeopardise for love’s sake if I wish. Having done so I might still receive God’s mercy, but how could I ever hope for that if I signed away the rights of others, who have as yet no minds with which to take decisions of their own.’

‘But,
Rojé
,’ she pleaded. ‘’Tis natural that children should be brought up to some religion.’

‘Indeed it is; and as in most cases the parents are of the same faith there arises no question as to what it should be. But where the parents differ ’tis but fair that the children should be left a free choice to decide for themselves, when they are old enough.’

Athénaïs sighed. ‘
Rojé
, dear heart, I am no theologian to argue such questions. I know only the simple facts. The Holy Father will not grant a dispensation for such a marriage as we plan unless you are willing to swear a solemn oath that all children of the marriage should be baptised into the Catholic faith.’

He laid his hands on hers and gently drew her arms away from about his neck. ‘My love,’ he said softly, ‘Fate is too strong for us. Even for you I’ll buy no dispensation at such a price. Come to England with me if you will and we’ll tell everyone that we have been married in France. I pledge you on my oath, here and now, never to desert you and to ever regard you in all things as my wife. But unless you’ll marry
me by Church of England rites, more I have not the power to offer.’

‘I cannot,’ she whispered. ‘’Twould make me old before my time to have the ever-present knowledge that I was living in sin; and that my children were bastards, born out of wedlock. No lasting happiness to either of us could ever come of it.’

Then with a moan she turned away from him and, burying her face in his pillow, began to sob out her heart.

While he soothed and sought to comfort her he strove to think of some way in which he might yet save her from having to marry de Caylus. It came to him then that there was one possible line of action which he might attempt.

She sat up at last and, still crying quietly, said; ‘I cannot blame you,
Rojé
. I would feel the same, did you try to bring my babies up as heretics. For a little time we deluded ourselves with a vision of a happiness that we shall never know. Yet I will not submit to marrying de Caylus. There is one escape that even my father cannot deny me. I’d rather put the world and all things in it behind me by casting myself upon the bosom of the Church.’

‘What! Take the veil?’ he exclaimed, aghast.

‘Yes. Why not? Had I not known love with you I might have supported that loathsome man’s caresses. But now ’tis impossible. If he touched me I would plunge a poignard in his heart; so ’tis better, far, that I should enter a convent.’

‘You must not do it,’ he pleaded. ‘You are so young, so beautiful; ’twould be a sin against nature to let them cut off your golden hair and shut you up for life. Besides, I have thought of a way by which I yet may free you from this hateful marriage. I’ll call M. de Caylus out, and kill him.’

‘Oh, my sweet
Rojé
,’ she sighed. The thought is monstrous brave and I know you’d do it, were it possible; but you forget the status you have assumed here in France. M. de Caylus would never accept your challenge. No noble will ever cross swords with one whom he considers to be beneath him.’

Carried away by his distress, Roger had forgotten that; yet he knew that she was right, and he could only mutter angrily: ‘I’d sooner be broken on the wheel than live to think of you in his arms, or suffering a living death in the black robes of a nun.’

For a time they fell silent; but full daylight had now come, stressing for both of them the utter exhaustion they felt from the emotions that had torn them during the past night. Athénaïs made Roger swear that he would do nothing rash without first informing her of his intention, and he made her swear that she would likewise take no steps to enter a convent before they had met and talked again.

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