Daughters of the Storm (35 page)

An owl hooted outside – a weirdly seductive sound - and Louis perceived that Adèle was a dangerously attractive woman.

At last she spoke.

‘I must trust Lucie,' she said. ‘And I will keep you here until I can obtain a passport. Where would it be best for you to go?'

‘I shall go to Héloïse's house at Neuilly.'

Adèle looked at him sharply.

‘Aha!' she said knowingly. ‘So that is the way the wind blows.'

He said nothing.

‘So be it,' said Adèle. ‘I am not one to enquire into the affairs of others, not even when it concerns my brother. My poor Hervé, he will not like it. He ever despised the cuckold, and he is very taken with Madame la Comtesse.'

Adèle was renowned for her gossiping, albeit she went about it in a more good-natured way than many of her friends. Yet, and yet... Louis felt he could trust her. He took one of her hands and kissed it. Adèle smiled and rang the bell. Presently, a small tangle-haired girl appeared in the doorway, rubbing her eyes. When she saw Louis, she uttered a shriek.

‘Quiet,' said Adèle sharply.

Lucie stood twisting her nightdress round and round her fingers as Adèle explained the situation and directed her to go and search for food.

‘But, madame,' faltered Lucie, ‘I must tell you that Antoine has told me that the authorities are planning to visit you tonight.'

‘Why didn't you say, you stupid girl?' Adèle was very curt.

‘Antoine... Antoine...,' Lucie faltered. ‘He told me not to tell you, and he said he would beat me if I did.'

‘How does Antoine know this?'

‘He has friends in the section headquarters,' said Lucie, barely above a whisper. ‘They tell him things.'

‘I see.' Adèle poured a glass of wine for herself and took a reflective sip. If the truth was known she was beginning to enjoy herself, although she had no illusions as to the danger she was courting.

‘But careful,' she said to herself. ‘Don't get carried away by the sight of a handsome face.'

She glanced at Louis out of the corner of her eye. He was, despite everything, remarkably attractive, and her appetites stirred.

Barely tasting them, Louis ate the cold chicken and cheese that Lucie brought. Adèle rose and came to kneel beside him, her perfume wafting into the room.

‘Poor Monsieur d'Épinon,' she said. ‘Poor Louis.'

He managed to smile at her and she touched his knee with a soft caress.

‘Now, where shall I hide you?'

Louis let his gaze wander round the elegant room and lingered on the bed that dominated it. It was a huge, old-fashioned bed, draped
à la polonaise,
and had room for at least four occupants. At least four, he thought wryly, of Adèle's lovers.

‘I could hide in your bed,' he said, half-idly.

He heard Lucie gasp and saw Adèle's plucked eyebrows arch.

‘But of course,' said Adèle with a trill of laughter. ‘Why did I not think of it?'

She walked over to the bed and flung back the quilted coverlet, exposing lace-bordered sheets and large pillows.

‘You will have to lie across the bed – so,' she said, ‘and I will cover you with the pillows and lie back against you.'

There was another shriek from Lucie.

‘I suppose', said Adèle, frowning at the maid, ‘I shall be forced to cultivate a fever for the few days until I can obtain the necessary papers.' She sighed with mock ill-humour. ‘And I have so much to do.'

Louis intercepted a look so full of sensual promise that he quite forgot his fatigue, and quite forgot Héloïse. He felt nothing but admiration for Adèle. Quite obviously, she was a woman with courage and humour and, for all her diminutive size, no weakling.

‘Well, then, madame, we had better go to bed,' he said. He stretched one grimy hand for her inspection. ‘You must permit me to wash, otherwise you might not be so ready with your invitation.'

Adèle signalled to Lucie, who led him into the dressing room off the bedroom. She poured some water into a china bowl and left him to wash. Louis plunged his face into the water gratefully. Ten minutes later, more or less clean, he returned to the bedroom and, without further ado, climbed into the bed. Adèle was snuffing the candles. ‘You look tense, dear Monsieur D'Epinon. I'm not surprised.' With a graceful movement she removed her
robe de chambre.
Underneath it she wore a gauze nightrobe which was almost transparent. Once again her perfume filled his nostrils.

‘Sleep now,' she said, propped on one elbow. ‘I know that you are tired.'

He sighed in gratitude, the dark pressing down on his eyelids.

Adèle lay for a while longer. She had some thinking to do. Only when she was quite clear in her mind did she turn on to her side, away from Louis. The room was quiet.

*

He was awakened by an urgent tug at his arm.

‘Louis.' Adèle's voice was sharp and businesslike. ‘They have come. You must hide.'

Already she was pulling the pillows aside. Stifling a groan, Louis roused himself and crawled into the position she indicated. Adèle settled the pillows against him.

‘Can you breathe?' she asked. He pressed the curve of her back to show that he had heard.

‘Hush now. Not a word until I tell you,' she reminded him.

The sound of voices on the stairs told her that she had not a minute to spare. Adèle glanced at the window. Dawn streaked the sky and she closed her eyes and breathed a prayer, not an activity she often indulged in.

There was a tap on the door. Adèle pretended not to hear. The tap was repeated, loud and peremptory.

‘Ah,' she moaned languorously, in an excellent imitation of someone roused from sleep. ‘Who is it?'

‘Madame,' said Lucie, her voice squeaky with fear, ‘there is someone who wishes to speak with you.'

‘At this hour,' said Adèle. ‘Certainly not.'

‘Madame, you must.'

Before Lucie had finished speaking, she was brushed aside. Three men walked into the room, dressed in the now familiar uniform of the National Guardsmen. Adèle braced herself.

‘What do you gentlemen mean by this intrusion?' she asked in what she hoped was a nicely judged assumption of anger.

A very young man in a short jacket and striped pair of trousers stepped forward. ‘My name is Gaury
, citoyenne
. We must apologise for disturbing you at so odd an hour, but we wish to search your house for enemies of France.'

Adèle sat upright and adjusted the pillows a fraction.

‘Monsieur Gaury, I am not in the habit of harbouring enemies of France,' she remarked in freezing tones. ‘Do you have any special reason for choosing this house?'

‘We are searching all the houses in the neighbourhood. There have been reports of unauthorised activities near the
barrière,'
replied Gaury.

‘Good heavens!' exclaimed Adèle. ‘Then, you must search at once.'

The two guardsmen had the grace to look discomfited, but Gaury's regard remained unflinchingly direct. He rapped out an order to the guardsmen, who began to prod at furniture and look behind chairs. Adèle felt Louis stiffen.

Mother of God, Louis, she thought. Keep still.

‘Forgive me', she addressed Gaury, ‘if I do not rise to assist you. But I hardly feel it would be in order.'

As she spoke she contrived to let one side of her nightgown drop over her bare shoulder, almost to one breast. Gaury did not take his eyes off her, and there was no lightening in his expression.

‘Your movements,
citoyenne
?'

‘My movements?' Adèle was incredulous at his impertinence.

‘Where have you been these past few days?'

‘Why, here, monsieur, and today I have visited friends at Versailles. Is that important? You will understand that I am not accustomed to being questioned in this manner.'

Gaury ignored her.

The search of the bedroom having revealed nothing, the men stood waiting for further orders. Gaury directed them to the rest of the house and Lucie was ordered to show them round. Adèle leant back on the pillows and hoped that Louis could breathe.

‘Who are you exactly?' she asked. This time anger crept into her voice. ‘I trust your men will be gentle with my property.'

‘They will be as thorough as is necessary. They have their orders. I have been entrusted by the Paris commune under the direction of Citizen Jacques Maillard to bring justice to bear against all those who work against
la patrie
and to ensure the safety of all patriots. Your family is one of many under suspicion.'

‘Stuff!' said Adèle, losing patience. ‘You are a bunch of brigands, whoever you are, and you would appear to be the most foolish.'

She regretted it.

Gaury said nothing and Adèle was unnervingly reminded of pictures of early martyrs she had seen in books in her distant youth. There was a similar single-mindedness to be read in the face, the same dangerous determination. Are they all like this? she wondered. She dropped her gaze and concentrated on gathering her resources. She could feel Louis' warmth under the pillow and hoped that he could hold out. Trapped in the suffocating darkness, Louis concentrating on breathing and staying still.

Gaury selected one of Adèle's slender gilt chairs and sat down.

‘Who are your friends at Versailles? Where did you obtain your papers?'

Adèle enlightened him.

‘Are you planning to remain here for the next few days?'

‘Indeed,' replied Adèle. ‘I will need time to recover from this outrage.'

Gaury cleared his throat. It was not a pleasant sound.

‘If you have nothing on your conscience,
citoyenne,
then your recovery will be swift.'

‘You know, I could have you whipped,' remarked Adèle.

‘I doubt it,
citoyenne.
It would not, in any case, be wise.' Gaury crossed his legs. ‘I needn't remind you that times have changed.'

The sergeant returned and reported that his men had found nothing.

Gaury rose to his feet. ‘Citoyen Maillard will be disappointed,' he said, adjusting his leather belt. ‘We shall be back.'

Adèle nodded. ‘I shall be – how shall I put it? – informing my friends of you. They will be fascinated.'

‘Your friends,
citoyenne
, have no more power' He paused. ‘If that is what you meant to suggest.'

Gaury turned on his heel and left the room, followed by his retinue. Their footsteps died away down the stairs and after a minute could be heard crunching down the drive.

Adèle waited until there was silence and with trembling fingers pulled aside the pillows. Louis was lying very still and barely breathing. Adèle shook him, but there was no response. She shook him again, harder this time. There was no response. Adèle bent over swiftly and began to blow air into his mouth.

Louis found himself dragged back from the dark embrace into which he had been sucked by a pair of full lips on his. Without thinking he stretched up his arms and pulled Adèle down towards him. Confused, he imagined... or was he dreaming? ... that he was with Héloïse.

Surprised, Adèle drew back. Then, she thought better of it. Why not? And she helped him by sliding out of her nightgown, to reveal the seductive body of a woman who had kept herself well. The light was still kind to her skin and curves, If Louis realized his mistake it, it was by then too late to stop and he gave himself up to the delights of the warm, comforting body that took such easy command of his.

Later, when they lay side by side under the tangled sheets, Adèle gave a laugh of relief and amusement. She was still smiling when Lucie entered and stopped in confusion at the sight of them in the bed. Unembarrassed and unworried, Adèle flicked the sheet over her bare breasts. Lucie had seen her like this so many times before.

‘Now we must plan,' Adèle said.

*

The following night, Louis slipped out of the back entrance of the house and Lucie locked and bolted it after him. Clad in a clean shirt and the Duc de Fleury's breeches, his coat now washed and pressed, Louis looked like a respectable gentleman who had seen better days. Inside his pocket were the stolen papers which proclaimed that he was one Citoyen Legrand of Rue St Jacques. Under his arm he carried a small parcel of food and wine.

Louis breathed deeply; it was good to be outside in the night air. Following Adèle's instructions, he made his way through the parkland surrounding the house towards the small artificial lake at its centre. Once there, he skirted its bank until he reached a charming little folly built by Adèle in one of her more extravagant moods. The bolt yielded easily to his touch and he entered a circular room with large windows. Louis could make out tables and chairs and, if his eyes did not deceive him, a luxurious day-bed situated at one side. He laughed. Despite her fragile air, Adèle was very well organised. The room was well aired and well maintained. Louis peered out of the window at the quiet expanse of lake fringed by trees. Save for the rustle of leaves and the scuttle of animals in the undergrowth all was quiet. Louis sat down and marvelled at the eternal, unchanging peace, worlds away from the horror which he had seen.

He thought of Héloïse. Beautiful, steadfast, loving Héloïse. The Héloïse who had held him through that long night at the Tuileries and who had refused to abandon her post. Héloïse, who almost certainly was bearing his child.

Did he regret Adèle? Louis gave a little smile which was tinged with regret, but not entirely so. He had enjoyed his time in the vast bed with her - a moment of passion and abandon, to be taken, relished and then relinquished with good manners. But it had nothing to do with his feeling for Héloïse. Now, he and Adèle would forget the interlude and continue on their separate ways.

When dawn came, a flock of geese landed on the water. Their flurry rippled up the shallows and broke the reflections into a thousand eddies and refractions of light. Eating bread and fruit, Louise watched them.