Bright Hair About the Bone (27 page)

CHAPTER 26

H
e led the way out to the stables and down the long line of stalls until they arrived at Dido's loose box. The mare snorted gently and slathered his hands with an affectionate and trusting tongue. “There!” he said. “All the dressings are off. She's healed beautifully and is longing to have some exercise again. Will you ride her to the top of the coach road? I'll come with you on old Hannibal. He won't mind going slowly.” Letty was introduced to Hannibal, a blue roan, going over a bit and distinctly past mark of mouth but a noble and friendly animal. D'Aubec called for the chief stable lad, Marcel, who, unusually, was standing in earshot, and told him to saddle up the horses. And then: “Is all in order?” he asked, mysteriously. Marcel gave a conspiratorial nod, grinned at Letty, then went off to see to the horses.

“What are you two up to?” she asked suspiciously.

“Preparing another surprise for you! Impossible to offer this one gift-wrapped but I think you'll be impressed.”

Edmond took her hands lightly in his and smiled down at her. The dark eyes were full of boyish mischief. Irresistible. She found herself responding with an eager anticipation she couldn't quite disguise with feeble protests: “Not sure I like surprises…nougat quite enough for one day, surely…”

“You're to have a small reward for the hours of work you've done on my books. Very small. Tiny!” The smile broadened to a grin. “Now—men ask themselves this all the time: What do you give a girl who has everything? Well, quite obviously—more of what she likes. Come and see!”

He walked ahead of her to a small room near the entrance, a groom's quarters, she would have guessed, and opened the door an inch at a time, peering inside. Having spun out the suspense, he flung the door fully open.

“Here they are!”

For a moment Letty was speechless, enthralled by the group in the straw that covered the floor. Six large pups were jumping and wriggling, snuffling and annoying beyond reason the mother dog. One little chap headed at once for the open door and almost squeezed through before being scooped up by d'Aubec. The mother gave a warning growl and he went to place it with a soothing word back at her side.

“I've never seen anything like them before. What are they? Mongrels?” Letty asked.

“Certainly not! And you're lucky to see them at all! The breed very nearly died out in the war. They're
Bergers de Picardie.
Herd dogs. Very ancient. Your heroes, the Celts, bred them.”

Letty tiptoed through the scrambling puppies over to the bitch and introduced herself, talking in a crooning voice and gently offering her hand under the woolly chin. As this was received graciously, she caressed the upright ears, admiring the large black nose and bright eyes watchful behind the tousled mop of face hair. The brindled grey coat, when she was allowed to stroke it, was rough and deep. A dog that would survive well the harsh Burgundy winters.

“As you see, they're ready to go out to their new owners,” said d'Aubec. “Poor Bella's had quite enough of them!”

“You've managed to find good homes for them?”

“It's never difficult. Local farmers clamour for them. Five out of the six you see here will be collected tomorrow.”

“You're keeping one back for yourself?”

“No. I want
you
to have it, Laetitia. A gift. Choose whichever one you like.”

Letty tried to control her rush of pleasure. “A charming idea, Edmond, but I couldn't possibly…” But her eyes were already running over the swarm of silky-coated puppies, admiring and assessing.

“Nonsense! And I'll bet I can guess which one you'll choose.” He waited for her to commit herself to a choice but as she still resisted, shaking her head, he pressed her further: “That dark one over there? Yes, he's the one!”

“No! You're wrong! I'd have the intrepid little escaper who got between your feet when you opened the door. Anyone who can see a chance of tripping
you
up gets my vote!” She leaned into the scrum of puppies and picked up the one she had her eye on. “Fawn with a white front,” she observed. “Ouch! And with very sharp teeth! Strong and spirited. This will be a good dog, Edmond. I'd keep this one, if I were you.”

“So be it. I'll inform Marcel. Are you going to name him?”

Letty shook her head and d'Aubec's smile faded. Naming a dog was the first sign of acceptance and he recognised her gesture for the decisive refusal it was. “Then
I
shall give him one. Let's call him ‘Dagobert'—a good Burgundian name. But, Letty, I mean you to have him. On one condition: that he stays here. This is a breed that works hard in the fields but it's highly intelligent, it loves human company, and becomes devoted to its master and its mistress. A herd dog, remember—it doesn't like to see its humans straying off. You should be aware! Now you've got acquainted…this dog will know you next time you come…. You can give him back to Bella, who's growing anxious, and we'll get on with our ride. I see the horses are ready.”

         

The sun was glowing richly on the hills ahead of them as they first walked, then with Dido gaining confidence, trotted down the slope away from the château and began the steady descent to the valley beyond. A wonderful evening and, in other circumstances, Laetitia would have felt herself completely in tune with it, blessed to be here in this corner of France which she acknowledged was weaving her into its enchantment. Critically she asked herself how much of the excitement she was feeling was due to the countryside and how much to her companion: a man who alarmed but attracted her, a man whom she despaired of ever truly knowing, distorted as his image continually was in her eyes by Daniel's shadowy, necromancing presence.

And d'Aubec's mother had sabotaged, with her over-hasty revelations, what was to be her last evening with Edmond, her last chance properly to understand him. Should she be influenced by the extraordinary claim with all the undercurrent of insinuation and deceit? Laetitia needed time to delve back into her own past, searching her memory for badly understood childhood impressions; she needed time to uncover and face something she had always known and ignored. Something uncomfortable. But, in a contrary way, she found she wanted to seek d'Aubec's assurance that he knew nothing of Daniel's alleged plans for her. She wanted to hear his gasp of surprise when she told him, and his hot denial that he was involved in the deception. She wanted to hear his incredulous laughter warning her that his poor old mother was surely on the rocks and breaking up fast, and Letty was to smile and humour her. No harm meant. Just the romantic imaginings of an elderly lady.

She glanced sideways at him to find that he was watching her, warm and concerned. She instinctively returned his smile and her heart gave a warning thump. Oh, Lord! What had happened to the immunity she had boasted of to Marie-Louise? The defences she had assured Paradee she had? Had she heard a single one of Gunning's warnings? She wouldn't be the first woman to have fallen for a rogue, but surely that could never happen to someone with her common sense and awareness?

She urged herself to take the thoughtful, adult approach and put her feelings for Edmond d'Aubec under a microscope. And what she saw there was: friendship—certainly; admiration—yes, but qualified; physical attraction—undeniable; love? There she stopped. An unconscious twitch on the reins communicated itself to the horse, its reaction reflecting her own uncertainty. Love? How could she know? What was her yardstick, where her co-ordinates? She rejected as unhelpful guides both the emotion she had felt for the White Fox of her early years and the almost cerebral awakening at the touch of her scientist. She mistrusted even more the state of being in love as portrayed in novels. She'd met lady novelists. Her problem would not have arisen in an earlier age—if a marriage with the dark lord had been arranged for her in feudal times, she'd have counted herself lucky to be his fair lady. Ah, well…Edmond d'Aubec would never take her heart by frontal assault, she thought whimsically, picturing him all too easily in armour and plumed helmet. But perhaps he knew of other, more stealthy ways of approach. She grinned at the intriguing idea.

“Something amusing you, Talbot?” He poked her in the ribs with his riding crop.

“No…I was just thinking about…fortifications. There's a wonderful view of your château from here. I was trying to trace the line of the original walls and work out whether there may have been room for a Celtic
oppidum
on the flat top. Something on the lines of Bibracte, perhaps? I think, you know, there would have been space enough for a small town, and you're right on an ancient trade route from the tin mines of Cornwall down to Marseilles. And, have you ever noticed?…it's more obvious from up there now the wheat's fully grown…that there are field markings down here in the valley. Small—half-to five-acre Celtic field outlines, I'd say…”

He reined Hannibal to a halt with a groan. “Will you take your nose off the historical scent for a while? I brought you up here to get away from all that. I would have been proud to take you out to dinner in town tonight, to show you off. And you've certainly earned it, but I think you would have refused to be seen in my company.”

“Edmond, how can you be so unaware? Everyone knows I've been coming here to see you almost every evening since I arrived in Fontigny. What do you suppose they think I'm doing here? Teaching your mother needlepoint? It's just as well I have an alternative identity to hide behind—I'm afraid my reputation was shot to pieces the first evening I spent with you. I expect you've ruined many?”

“Ruined? Some women have been honoured and delighted to have been observed in my company!”

“And why have you never married one of these grateful ladies? I'd have thought a fellow as dynastically minded as you, would, by now, have been busy ensuring that the line would continue. I'm amazed that you haven't a whole troupe of little d'Aubecs walking behind you learning how to swagger!”

He looked frostily at her. “None of my ‘grateful ladies,' as you so unkindly call them, would have been suitable for me. But you're quite right. As a matter of fact you touch, in your usual insensitive way, on an issue of pressing importance to me. Many people are of the opinion that I should marry.” He thought seriously for a moment then added, “I'm twenty-eight years old and I've led an interesting life; yes, I could well settle down now. In fact, Laetitia, I think of it more and more often. My mother is weary of helping me to run such a grand establishment—she would be delighted to hand over her châtelaine's keys. She has probably confided her concerns to you? The house needs a mistress, children racing down the corridors as I used to do with my cousins, ponies in the stables again…”

Letty began to bite her lips, casting about for emollient phrases of rejection.

“Well…the next time I ask Gabrielle to marry me, I'm confident that she'll say yes.”

“Gabrielle?” said Laetitia. “Who's Gabrielle?”

“My cousin. I think I may have mentioned her? The family have been trying to marry us off for years,” he said with a dismissive shrug. “I told you I had to go to Lyon tomorrow. We shall be staying at my uncle's house, and my cousins François and Gabrielle will be there. We always have a sort of Family Annual General Meeting at this time of year. We own a lot of property between us, we have many commercial interests, and there are important affairs to be decided. You remind me of my duties at a good moment, Laetitia. Yes, perhaps this year I will add an extra item to the agenda…The Question of the Dynastic Succession,” he said, and, kicking up Hannibal, he moved on.

“Wait! Edmond! I think Dido's gone far enough!” she called after him.

“Dido is doing very well and enjoying the ride,” he called back. “Can I say the same for you? How are your spirits, Laetitia?”

“Never higher!” she shouted back, and set off after him.

They worked their way along a twisting old green trackway which she thought was taking them back, in a loop, towards the outcrop of the château. The huge mound, bristling with military fortifications, was visible from every angle in this countryside, and whenever she looked up it seemed her eye was challenged by its imposing presence. They emerged once again into the sunshine before he stopped. “We'll get off here!” he announced, dismounting, and taking the horses by the bridle, he led them off the path and through a stand of stunted oak trees.

“Where are we going?”

“To a favourite place of mine. I discovered it when I was a child and I come back often when I'm feeling sad or angry. It has a calming atmosphere which always does me good. Perhaps it will work its magic on you, Laetitia. I am not a total insensitive—I do notice that you have been preoccupied this evening…anxious…not yourself. I would like to think you are distressed at the idea of my leaving you behind for a few days.” His sudden grin defused the sharp remark that came to mind.