Dangerous to Know (38 page)

Please accept the brooch. Do it for me.”

“Well of course I accept it, Countess Zoe, and thank you very much.

It’s beautiful and you’re very generous .

I rose and went to kiss her. Then I looked down into her upturned face and said, “Just so long as you know that I don’t need the brooch to be reminded of you.”

“Yes, I do know that,” she replied. Her vivid blue eyes were suddenly sparkling.

I could tell she was happy and this pleased me. I took out the diamond heart and pinned it on the jacket of my suit. “There, how does it look?”

“Dazzling,” she said, glanced over at the desk near the window, and went on, “Would you please bring me the letter case on the desk, Vivienne?”

Nodding, I did as she asked. Then I went and sat down in my chair again. Leaning against the antique tapestry pillows, I watched her open the case and sort through the contents.

This woman had captivated me the moment I had entered her house and we had bonded almost instantly. I had fallen completely under her spell; there was something wholly unique about her. She had an under standing heart, was intelligent, wise, and brave. So very brave. When I thought of the painful things that had happened to her in her life, I wondered how she had ever stood it all, how she survived. It was miraculous that she had lived through those tragedies the way she had, so courageously.

Zoe de Grenaille was indeed an indomitable woman.

I was filled with admiration for her and I had grown to love her.

“Vivienne?”

“Yes, Countess Zoe?”

“This is Sebastian’s birth certificate.

Please burn it.” Handing the document to me, she continued. “You can read it if you wish . .

I nodded, glanced down at the paper I was now holding. The facts were written there. They were exactly as she had told me. The names danced before my eyes. Cyrus Lyon Locke. Mary Ellen Ralferty Locke.

Sebastian Lyon Locke. Reddingron Farm, Somerset County, New Jersey. And Sebastian’s date of birth,New Jersey. And Sebastian’s date of birth, June the third, 1938. How often I had celebrated his birthday with him on that’ date.

“This was the beginning … the beginning of a great tragedy,” I whispered.

“Burn it, Vivienne. Please.”

“Immediately.” I went to the fire, knelt in front of it, and let the flames consume Sebastian’s birth certificate.

“Now this one. My marriage license.”

I held the piece of paper that had legalized the union between Mary Ellen Rafferty and Cyrus Lyon Locke and a wave of anger swept -through me. He was at the root of it. Cyrus Locke. How evil he had -: been. I tore the marriage certificate in half and dropped the pieces into the fire.

“This is the photograph taken at La Chunga in 1960,” Countess Zoe went on, handing it to me. “Consign this to the flames as well.”

My eyes dropped to the picture. I was compelled to look at it, I could not help myself. It was a Sebastian I did not know who stared back at me. I recognized him immediately, there was no question who he was. But how different he looked from the Sebastian I had known.

The older man. He was so young here, so untouched by life. And the Zoe next to him was the most glamorous of women. Her beauty was in full bloom. She looked glorious. No wonder she had been irresistible to men.

Conscious of her eyes on me, I placed the photograph on top of the logs and watched it curl and burn until it was no more, then I swung my head to look at her.

“You wished you could keep that, r’ienne,” she said slowly. “And for a moment I almost told you that you could. But it’s better to destroy everything. It’s not that I don’t trust you with the photograph but-” Her voice faltered and she glanced away.

I said, “I know you trust me. And you’re right, it’s better this way.

You’ll feel easier in your own mind.”

She sighed to herself and murmured, “Let me see what else is in here. Ah yes, my marriage license from Carton Hall in Westminster where I married Harry Robson. No need to destroy that. However, here is my own birth certificate. Please burn it.” Handing this to me, she settled back in her chair.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “I mean, there’s no real reason to throw this away, is there?”

She was thoughtful. Eventually she said rather softly, “Ariel and Charles know that I was an actress when I was young, and that my name was Zoe Lysle. They’re aware that I was widowed when I married Edouard, the widow of Harry Robson, supposedly my first husband. But they’ve never heard the name Mary Ellen Rafferty, and I want everything burned that could ever link me to the Locke family.

Put it on the fire, my dear. Please.”

I did as she asked and then pushed myself to my feet.

Countess Zoe said, “It was wise to get rid of the damning evidence. I wouldn’t want Ariel or Charles to find it later. But I’m glad I told you everything, Vivienne. I think I’ve lifted a burden from you, taking you into my confidence, and it’s lifted a burden from me, sharing my secret with you. That has weighed me down for twelve years, it’s been a relief to speak of it with you.”

I got up and went and crouched next to her chair. Looking deeply into those startlingly blue eyes, I said, “I will honor your confidence. I will never tell anyone as long as I live.”

Leaning closer, Countess Zo kissed my forehead, touched my cheek gently. “I know you won’t reveal anything I’ve told you. You’re such a fine person, so honest and loyal. And honor is bred in the bone with you. You could no more do a shoddy thing than Ariel could.” She paused and looked at me intently when she said, “You’ve become like another daughter to me. I’ve grown to love you, Vivienne.”

“Thank you for saying those lovely things, Countess Zoe, and I want you to know that I love you too.”

A smile touched her mouth and was gone in an instant. A sudden sorrow seemed to settle over her and her eyes filled with tears.

Reaching for my hands, she said, “It’s as though I took a knife and plunged it into him. I’m responsible for Sebastian’s death, Vivienne.

I’ve lived with that ghastly knowledge for over seven months, and it’s over whelmed me.

The sorrow is unendurable.” Ibars rolled down her cheeks.

“Please, please, don’t blame yourself,” I said. “You had to tell Se bastian the truth. There was nothing else you could do. You couldn’t let him marry Ariel. That would have been unconscionable.”

She fumbled in her pocket for a handkerchief. “His death is a shadow on my heart,” she said.

264Barbara Thytor Bradford I continued to console her and eventually she took hold of herself, became composed at last.

Hubert brought in the tea tray, poured for us, and left.

We sipped our tea in silence for a while. It was Countess Zoe who spoke first. She said, “Love is the only thing that’s worthwhile in this terrible and incomprehensible world we live in. It’s the only thing that makes any sense. Take the advice of an old woman who’s seen almost everything and experienced much … don’t make any compromises when it comes to marriage. Oh yes, you’ll marry again, Vivienne, I’m absolutely certain of that. But you must only marry for love.”

“I know, and there is no other reason, as far as I’m concerned.”

“When the right man comes along, you’ll know it. You’ll be swept off your feet, but you’ll be very sure of your feelings, I don’t doubt that.”

“I think I will, Countess Zoe.”

There was a faint 8mile on her face, but I could see the tears glittering in her eyes when she said softly, “Oh, I don’t doubt you, Vivienne. Not at all.” There was a pause before she finished, “Your whole life is ahead of you. Lye it well from this day forward.”

I went straight from Countess Zo’s house to the restaurant where I was meeting Jack for dinner.

As I sat back in the cab, after giving the driver the address of Cher Voltaire, I wondered whether I should remove the diamond heart.

It was still pinned to my jacket and looked wonderful against the black wool. I decided to leave it where it was.

Jack was already there when I arrived, and he rose as I was shown to the table. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he said, kissing me on the cheek.

We both sat down. I looked across the table at him and said, “And so are you, darling.”

He grinned at me. “You’re looking very nifty this evening, Vrv.

Very chic. Great suit. Who gave you the pin?”

“I’ve had it for ages,” I said evasively, now regretting that I had not taken it off in the cab after all.

“It looks very Sebastian to me,” he said, motioned to a waiter, and went on, “What would you like to drink?”

“I’ll have a glass of champagne, Jack, please.”

“Good idea, I’ll have that too. I’m really off the hard stuuf these days.” He ordered a baffle of Veuve Cliquot, the waiter went away to fetch it, and Jack continued, “So, have you tracked her down?”

“Who?” I asked, although I knew at once to whom he was referring.

Ariel. She had been the subject of our last conversation at the Chateau d’Case only a couple of weeks ago.

“The mystery woman in Sebastian’s life. Ariel de Grenaille, of course,” he said.

“No, I haven’t,” I replied. “And I don’t think I’m going to either.”

“Why not? You were so gung-ho about her … about speaking to her.”

“Well, I’ve spoken to her mother and Ariel is in Africa. I’m not planning to go there, Jack, I don’t think it’s worth it.”

“That’s a change of tune! So what did you find out? From the mother, I mean?”

“Not a great deal. Ariel lives in Africa. That’s where she was when Sebastian killed himself. So obviously she can’t shed any light on the matter. She doesn’t know any more than you or I do.”

“Is she a doctor?”

“Yes.”

“A scientist?”

“Yes, Jack, she works with hot viruses, such as Ebola and Marburg.

That’s what her mother told me.”

“Jesus! That’s dangerous work.”

“Yes, it is.”

The waiter came with the bucket of champagne and proceeded to open the bottle. This put a stop to Jack’s questions. But the moment we were alone again he continued to press me about Ariel de Orenaille.

“Was she engaged to Sebastian?” he probed, his curiosity apparent I answered, “From what I understand, yes. They were planning to get married at some point this spring. About now. As he had told me Jack.

And that’s it, there’s nothing more to say. Except that you were always right. We’ll never know why Sebastian killed himself. It’s still a mystery.”

“So you’re not planning to interview her for the profile?”

“No, I’m not. Cheers.” I touched my glass to his.

“Cheers,” he said and went on, “Is it a work in progress? Or have you finished it?”

I laughed. “No, I haven’t, not yet. But I’m going back to Lourmarin tomorrow, and I fully intend to add the final touches. All it needs is a good polish.”

“I’d hoped you’d be staying in Paris for a few more days,” he grumbled , sounding petulant. “I thought you could keep me company.

I’m here on wine business until the end of the week.”

“I’d like to, but I really must get back. I’ve such a lot to do, and my book on the Bronte sisters is coming out in the summer. I’ll have to do a certain amount of promotion for it, travel a bit, and right now I need some time at Vieux Moulin. Quiet time. Alone.”

“Are you going to Connecticut in August, as you usually do?” he asked.

“Yes, why?”

“I might be there at that time. At Laurel Creek Farm.”

“I can’t believe it! And I certainly can’t believe you’d leave Cheau d’Case!”

He began to laugh. “I’m thinking of spending a couple of weeks there, I’m not planning to move permanentty to Cornwall, Vivienne.”

I sat back in my chair and regarded him for a long moment. He looked well, thinner, and much better groomed than he usually was.

I also realized he was in a good mood, almost benign, which was unusual for him. Taking a deep breath, I said, “Jack, I want to ask you some thing.”

“Shoot.”

“I want you to look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love Cather me Smythe.”

“Now you’ve gone and ruined the evening, Viv, and it’s only just begun.”

“Do you love her?” I pressed. When he was silent I went on relentlessly , “It’s me, Viv, sitting here. Your oldest and dearest friend and you can’t fool me. Look me right in the eye, Jack Lyon Locke and tell me that you don’t love her.”

“I do, but-“

“No, no, no, Jack. No buts.”

“Who gave you that fabulous pin?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Okay, okay. I love her. So what?”

“I saw Catherine two days ago. When I was in London working with my publisher.”

“You did!” He sat up straighter and stared at me intently. “How is she?”

“She looks fantastic. She’s got a wonderful peachy bloom about her.

I must say there are some women who really blossom during pregnancy , she’s one of them. And she’s in great spirits, happy about the baby, working hard on her book about Fulk Nerra, and planning to move into a new apartment.”

“When?”

“Well, she hasn’t actually found one yet, Jack, but she’s looking hard, and certainly she hopes to be settled in a new place before the baby’s born.” I stared at him, waiting for a comment or a question, but he said nothing. He gulped down his champagne and looked around for the waiter, who came in a flash to fill his glass.

Once we were alone, I said, “Catherine loves you very much, Jack.”

“Go and tell that to the marines,” he muttered in a truculent voice.

I answered softly, “I know she does, and I also know that she’d like to be with you, with or without the benefit of marriage. In any case, 268Barbara Bradford she’s very independent minded about matrimony, but then you know that.”

“If she loves me as much as you say she does, then why did she betray me?” he asked in a sulky voice.

“How did she do that, Jack?” I murmured, frowhing.

“She got pregnant when she knew I didn’t want children.”

“I don’t believe that was on purpose. From what she said, it was an accident. Let me ask you something, just out of curiosity. Why are you so against children?”

“I’m not against kids. I just don’t want any of my own.”