Love in High Places (9 page)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Making
the acquaintance of Alex’s grandmother when she wasn’t in the least expecting to do so prevented Valentine from ever being quite clear in her mind what her first impressions of the
schloss
itself were.

She realised that Lou felt almost as bewildered as herself as they followed the tiny figure of their hostess into one of the main rooms on the ground floor. The Countess referred to it grandly as the main salon, and she plainly didn’t think it necessary to apologise for the faded tapestries that hung on the walls, or the tattered corners of the chairs that had once been richly covered in satin damask, but were now threadbare examples of what the moth could do when it got out of hand. She pointed proudly to a bureau which she said had once graced the private apartments of the Empress Maria-Theresa, and declared that she would have given orders for the protective linen bags to be removed from the chandeliers if she had known that there was to be a house-party at the
schloss
over the week-end.

“But I only arrived last night,” she explained, “and there has not been a great deal of time.” She tugged impatiently at an old-fashioned bell-rope for the servant, Stefan, to make his appearance. “But Felden has so much of which we are proud that I’m sure you will ignore any small inconveniences. The bedroom chimneys all smoke when the fires are lighted, but that is a small thing to put up with when the beds are so superbly comfortable? Four-posters, you understand
...
None of your modern single beds as narrow as coffins here at Felden! And although we have trouble with the hot water, and it is more often cold than hot, that is another small thing when the rooms are so airy, and some of them even have painted ceilings! The work of a very celebrated artist in, I believe, the eighteenth century!”

“Personally I would say that the rooms are extremely draughty, Grossmutter,” Alex put in, with a distinctly amused expression on his face, as Stefan at last tottered in with a tray of drinks, which he put down on a great side table. “And it isn’t everyone who would consider a painted ceiling an acceptable substitute for a hot bath.” The Countess made a dismissing gesture with her hands, while she ran an eagle eye over the tray of drinks.

“Ah, I see the cellar at least is not quite empty yet, Stefan,” she observed with satisfaction. “You even appear to have a bottle of sherry! But perhaps the Herr Baron brought that with him from the hotel
?
”

“The Herr Baron did,” her grandson answered, the glimmer of amusement still in his eyes while he studied his tiny relative. “And I also brought along a few bottles of champagne, one of which we will have with our lunch!”

“That is excellent,” she approved. “There is nothing I enjoy more than a glass of champagne with my lunch, followed, if it is possible, by the
tiniest
glass of green Chartreuse.”

“I even thought of that, too,” the Baron told her. “Though naturally I didn’t expect to find you here.” She smiled at him with so much undisguised and curiously simple affection that Valentine, for one, was quite stirred.

“How sweet of you, dear boy! And how glad I am that I was able to provide you with a surprise
!
” Then she rattled on in her rather breathless, bewildering, persistent fashion. “Of course it is not everyone who enjoys painted ceilings, but at least they can
admire
the ceilings, and I have frequently found that when the wind is tiresome, and one is kept awake, the light of one’s candle on some of the more delightful examples of scroll-work, and all those bunches of fruit and flowers, and the enchanting cupids
...
”

“But haven’t you electric light?” Lou put in, with a wide-eyed look of astonishment on her face.

The old lady smiled at her pityingly.

“No, my dear, we haven’t. And if we had it would spoil the entire atmosphere of the place. I cannot stress the importance of preserving the atmosphere of a place like Felden.”

“But you have, at least, a hot water
supply
?
” Lou emphasised the word. “You mentioned that it was more often hot than cold, but that doesn’t mean
—
?”

“I’m afraid it does,” the Countess said with the utmost complacency. “Cans of hot water are brought up to you, if you happen to be a guest
—
as you are, of course!
—
by Helga, if her rheumatism isn’t troubling her too much. And if you give her sufficient warning she will fill you a bath. But nowadays she does suffer terribly from rheumatism, and we try not to overlook the fact that she has served us for nearly fifty years, and is very nearly as old as Stefan
—
”

“But couldn’t you replace them?” Lou asked. “Replace both of them?” The astonishment in her face had become tinged with concern. “After all, there must be plenty of able-bodied young people up here in the mountains who could provide far more efficient service, specially after they were trained.”

“I’ve no doubt there are,” the Countess agreed quietly, freezingly, “but one doesn’t replace old and faithful servants until one has to. And that means when they can no longer perform any of their duties in a satisfactory manner.”

Lou seemed unable to think of anything to say, and instead she looked at Alex rather helplessly.

Valentine was glad when a move was made to show the visitors to their rooms, and Helga arrived to do this, in response to another summons on the bell-rope. She was plainly fairly agile at the moment, for she moved with uncanny swiftness up the fine baroque staircase and along the stone-floored corridors, and although Valentine would have preferred a little time to admire the bronze figures upholding flambeaux that were set in niches beside the staircase, and other impressive features of the ancient hall, she was not given the opportunity. Lou, who would have liked a few moments alone with the Baron once they left the presence of his grandmother, found that she was not to have the opportunity to do that, either, for he appeared to have dissolved into thin air.

Once ushered into the vast room where she was to sleep
—
Valentine was to have the one adjoining
—
she looked round it with an unusual air of helplessness for Lou, and said something that sounded temporarily defeated.

“Well!
... And what do you make of this
?
”

There was a fire smouldering away on an enormous hearth, and a supply of logs piled up beside it, but the temperature of the room was icy cold. The room downstairs had been cold, but at least the fire had been making an effort. This one seemed to be nearly out, and although Valentine attended to it as expertly as she could she could do little to raise the temperature.

Lou sat down in a brocade-covered chair and eyed the rest of the appointments gloomily. The bed was mounted on a sort of dais, and the curtains that enclosed it were of fine, fluted silk that looked as if it would disintegrate at a touch. The main colour scheme was a distinctly depressing dark rose colour, and the wardrobe and the dressing-table were so huge that she had never seen anything like them before. If she happened to lie wakeful in the night, she thought uneasily, she would try to keep her eyes off the wardrobe, for it could provide concealment for a small detachment of fugitives from justice, and anyone with the will to remain hidden for a week could probably occupy it in the greatest of comfort.

She stood up hurriedly, and remarked that she was glad Valentine was to be no farther away than next door.

“I think we’ll keep the door between our rooms open,” she said.

“Just as you like,” Valentine answered, but her breath was being taken away by the spectacular view outside the window as she spoke, and she turned to Lou eagerly and persuaded her to come and admire it as well. There was a dizzy drop below them, for on this side of the castle the weather-worn grey wall was actually a part of the mountainside, and the icy torrent that ran beneath the stone bridge continued its fearsome journey at the base of the wall. In summer the noise of it would be incessant, but now that everything was frozen and still the silence was strange and awesome.

There was a balcony outside the window, and Valentine ventured out on to it and peered down over the parapet. Behind her Lou urged her distractedly to mind what she was doing, but Valentine felt as if she were on a platform poised in space
—
which she almost literally was
—
and a strange exhilaration rushed over her as she took in all the breathtaking enchantment of the view. The great peaks across the valley, like giant cones of sugar-icing, the dim greeny-blue of the woods on the floor of the valley, the fairy-tale woods they had penetrated that day, and which came creeping right up to the castle.

If such a castle were ever besieged she wouldn’t hold out much hope for the besiegers, in spite of the protection afforded by the woods. But the defenders could have a wonderful time waiting for the moment when they appeared in the open, and crossed the iron-hard bridge poised above nothingness that was under close observation from the windows.

“Come inside,” Lou insisted at last, and Valentine retreated regretfully. Lou fastened the window securely.
“That
is not going to be opened again during my tenancy!” she remarked. “And if you’ve any sense you won’t tempt providence by trying your own balcony. There wouldn’t be much hope for you if it gave way!”

Then she turned her mind to more practical things.

“What do you suppose I ought to wear for lunch? If the dining-room’s as comfortless as the principal reception room it might be a good idea to go down supported
by a thick sweater and furs!”

But in the end she couldn’t resist the temptation to make herself as attractive as possible, and when she descended the grand staircase of the
schloss
she was wearing a golden woollen dress, and there were turquoise and gold studs in her ears, and a collection of gold bracelets reaching halfway up her arm above the close-fitting sleeves of her dress.

The Countess was still hugging her unrecognisable fur coat around her, but in the dining-room
—
which was actually the old banqueting-hall of the castle
—
she took it off and sat very upright in her chair at the opposite end of the table to that which the Baron accepted as his natural right and looked every inch the grand little old lady which she undoubtedly thought herself.

Valentine was a little hazy about most of the things that happened at lunch
—
and any thought Lou had had connected with her having her meals in a private suite of rooms was done away with as soon as she learned that there were only two servants, and the kitchen was half a mile away from the dining-room. But it did strike her that the food was excellent, in spite of the difficulty of keeping it hot, and although she refused the champagne the solitary glass of hock she had, which came out of the
schloss
cellars, could scarcely have been bettered anywhere. And Stefan, handicapped though he was by his stiffened joints, was marvellously deft at waiting at table.

He reminded Valentine of a grizzled grey statue with watchful eyes when he stood behind his master’s chair at intervals when it was not necessary for him to be handing dishes or refilling glasses, and she was sure it was a secret delight to him to have people staying in the
schloss.
He wore rather a travesty of a uniform that had once included silk stockings and highly polished buttons, but now it didn’t matter to him that his stockings were tremendously thick and of coarse grey wool, and several of his buttons were missing.

The main thing
—
the important thing
—
was that the Baron was entertaining guests, and the Baron came all too seldom to Felden, and guests were exceedingly rare.

While the meal lasted the Countess and Lou did most of the talking, with Giles Haversham putting in an intelligent question occasionally to his hostess, and trying not to ignore Germaine
...
who was quite obviously used to being ignored. But Alex was so silent that Valentine studied him secretly and wondered whether it was depression that rendered his face almost inscrutable, or whether there was some other reason. Depression was understandable when this was his home
—
his family home
—
and so much was lacking that could make for genuine comfort, or make him proud to be acting the part of host. But as she looked round at all the faded splendour Valentine knew that she herself would still be proud of it, and she hadn’t the slightest doubt that the Countess of Hultz-Reisen was very proud.

Was it, then, this unexpected reunion with his grandmother that had upset him in some strange way? He was obviously fond of her
—
the way he had kissed and hugged her on arrival had proved that
—
but he hadn’t been prepared for her to meet Lou at this stage (or Lou to meet his grandmother!) and had that anything to do with it
?

She was looking at him very earnestly when he suddenly looked up and met her eyes, and instantly her heart expanded, and his dark eyes seemed to awaken from a turgid sleep. He smiled at her, across the unexpected blaze of silver and glass on the table, and her heart started racing so impetuously that it made her feel breathless. Her lips dropped softly apart, and she thought:

“If only
I
had Lou’s money, and I could pour it all at his feet
...
tell him he could use it in any way he pleased, and bring back some of the splendour to Felden! And love him as it would be so wonderful to love him at the same time, would that make him look less as if he’s never been really happy, and isn’t expecting to be
?
Oh, Alex, Alex!
...”
Her heart beat wildly fast. “I
could
make you happy! Even without the money I could make you happy!
...”

The Countess spoke to her from the bottom of the table. Her shrewd old eyes had been resting on the delicate, heart-shaped face of the young woman from England with much concentration for several seconds, and she had also found time to study her grandson for a second or so as well. She felt as if a revealing light had been flashed in her face when she wasn’t expecting anything of the kind.

“I am most anxious to have a talk with you, Miss Brown,” she said. “It’s quite a long time since I paid a visit to England, but I was always very fond of it, and you shall tell me about all the changes that have taken place.” She sipped appreciatively at her second glass of champagne, and kept her eyes fixed on Valentine. “You remind me absurdly of someone I know. A man ... an Englishman! I used to know him awfully well
...
In fact, he once proposed tome!” And she tittered.

They all rose from the table, and Stefan brought coffee to the main salon. The fire was burning more brightly now, and the Countess ordered screens to be brought in and arranged behind the group of chairs. Although the screens were hardly in an excellent condition of preservation they did intercept some of the draughts, and even Lou grew somewhat warmer, and ceased to regret the absence of her mink coat, and one of the thickest of her sweaters.