Songbird (13 page)

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Authors: Julia Bell

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Victorian, #Fantasy, #Historical Romance

BOOK: Songbird
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CHAPTER
THIRTEEN

 

“W
ake
up, mademoiselle.  Happy birthday,” said Lisette.

I
stretched and yawned and then looked down at my huge stomach.  The baby gave me
a vicious kick and I grimaced.  I swung my legs over the side of the mattress
and tried to haul myself out of bed.  Laughing, Lisette came across and helped
me to my feet.

Mrs
Holland had estimated that I should deliver the child within the next two weeks
and I couldn’t wait to get rid of the tiresome burden I was carrying around
with me.  This fact alone had come as a surprise, since I had never felt like
that with Danny.  In fact, every month had been a joy with my son, even though
I had spent the last three struggling with the pain and grief of losing my
husband and father.

Despite
my increasing discomfort, March, April and May had been wonderful at Chateau St
Julienne.  I had watched the spring slowly spread its glory across the meadows,
seen the daffodils and tulips burst through the soil in the gardens and witnessed
the wildfowl on the lake, nest and hatch their young, the babies following
their mothers in a flurry of soft feathers.  The Bretagne region of France was
certainly a beautiful place.

The
duc and duchesse had kept their promise and when the weather became warmer, we
picnicked in the grounds, boated on the lake and strolled through the
woodland.  My confession to Mrs Holland three days after our arrival at Chateau
St Julienne had given me enormous confidence.  She knew all about me now and I
knew she would keep my secret.  It would go no further with her and now I felt
comfortable being Miss Isabelle Pritchard.

It
was the tenth of June and my twenty-first birthday.  I planned to spend the day
quietly, as usual, but that evening we would have dinner by the Greek temple
and an orchestra would entertain us.  But I had also arranged a special event,
unknown to the others.

“Is
the weather good, Lisette?”

“The
sky is so bright it hurts your eyes, mademoiselle.  It’s going to be a
beautiful day for this evening’s entertainment.”  She helped me to the dressing
table.  “And I think you’ve practised enough to be absolutely perfect.”  She
gave me a wink.

Yes,
I had practised.  I had sung in the woods where no one could hear me, for
tonight I wanted to surprise my hosts with a special gift as a thank you for
their kindness.  Lisette helped me bathe and dress and then I went downstairs
for my breakfast.  I had got into the habit of wearing my hair loose, tied back
with a ribbon.  It was only when I dressed for dinner, did the little maid pile
my brunette curls up onto my head and fasten them with a comb or spray of silk
flowers.

Now
that I was nearing the end of my pregnancy, my heart yearned for home.  I
missed Nan and Gwilym terribly.  And as for my little boy, I wanted to hold him
in my arms so much that it caused pain just to think of it.

Nan’s
letters had been very informative.  Mrs Ryan had been blessed with her eighth
grandchild.  Mrs Hemmings had been poorly with chickenpox.  Charity Reynard and
family had moved to Ireland.  Good, I thought, she can annoy the Irish for a
change.  Gwilym was well and looking forward to finishing his studies.  His new
stethoscope was still the envy of his fellow students.  Danny was saying more
words and could now construct an intelligible sentence.  ‘
You can have quite
a conversation with him
,’ she wrote.  ‘
But he keeps asking for Mama
,’
she added and that part broke my heart.  My letters had progressively spoken of
my disappointment in the ladies academy and the fact I might have made the
wrong decision.  Finally, I had suggested that I would return to London in July
and I had asked Nan to apply to the music academy for me so that I could enter
for the scholarship at the end of that month.  Nan’s reply had been ecstatic
and she had informed me that she had done it immediately.  My name was on the
candidates’ list for the third time.

I
tried to keep memories of Karl at bay.  It seemed such a long time since I had
last seen him that he was becoming distant.  I had been close to him for only a
brief time and now I wondered if I really had fallen in love with him.  I was
certain he wouldn’t give me a minute’s thought and although I still wore the
watch on the bodice of my dress, I realised it had been a farewell gift,
drawing a line under our relationship.

My
birthday was spent much as any other although I was delighted with the presents
that awaited me at my place at the breakfast table.  A musical jewellery box in
walnut, decorated with ivory and pearl, from the duc and duchesse.  A silver
brooch in the shape of a butterfly from Mrs Holland.  Even Lisette had left me
a small gift of a tortoiseshell comb on the dressing table.

I
went for my customary walk and delighted in the sight of the budding roses that
would fill the garden with dazzling colours and an intoxicating fragrance.  I
had got used to the servants’ strange glances and in reality, they had got used
to me, brushing me off as one of the ‘poor lost lambs’ that their master and
mistress seemed to collect from time to time.  It didn’t matter.  Another month
and I would be back in London.

The
Greek temple was a hive of activity.  Lanterns were being strung among the
trees and the area was being cleared for the long trestle table and the seats
for the orchestra.  The conductor was already there, making arrangements for
his players and I wandered over to him and had a quiet word.  He nodded at my
first request and smiled enthusiastically at my second.  Everything was in
place.

We
walked from the house towards the lake that evening.  I leaned on Mrs Holland’s
arm and I laughed with embarrassment at all this fuss and bother over my
birthday.  Everyone was being so kind.  Even Lisette accompanied us and carried
my cloak in case the weather turned colder.  When we reached the temple I gave
out a gasp of surprise.  It looked so beautiful, the lanterns glowing not only
in the trees but also on long poles round the clearing and candles had been lit
for the table.  The white marble front of the temple shone in the radiant
light.  The orchestra was already in place and tuning up.  The table was
covered with a white linen tablecloth and laid out with beautiful china, silver
cutlery and wineglasses of crystal.  We took our places, the music started and
the meal was served.

I was
touched when the duc proposed a toast to me and I blushed when everyone
clapped.  The conductor signalled to me and I excused myself and walked across
to him.  Suddenly, I felt unwieldy with my colossal size and looked towards
Lisette.  She smiled brightly and nodded.  I knew that my gown was the
prettiest one in the wardrobe in a beautiful shimmering purple and Lisette had
dressed my hair with a spray of silk violets, but how I wished I didn’t feel
like an elephant.  The duc, duchesses and Mrs Holland exchanged bewildered glances
at my actions, but smiled when they realised that there was a conspiracy in
progress.  I spoke to the conductor and then moved in front of the orchestra. 

I
cleared my throat.  “I would like to sing two pieces of music for you, to thank
you for your kindness these last few months.  The first is a song from my
homeland, Wales, the second you’ll recognise immediately.”

The
conductor raised his baton and then I sang
Land of My Fathers
, but in
order to give it the flavour of my country, I sang in Welsh.  After I had
finished, the applause was loud and I curtsied to my delighted audience.  There
was silence and then the conductor raised his baton once more and the familiar
notes of the
Marseillaise
echoed over the lake.  I had practised it in
French, with help from Lisette and as I sang, the duc and duchesse and Mrs
Holland rose to their feet.  And then everyone joined in, even the servants who
had served our meal.  And as we sang, tears streamed down the duc’s face.  It
was an emotional moment for him and from then on he talked of nothing else but
my rendition of his national anthem.  It was a wonderful birthday and the last
event before the birth of my baby.

That
night I snuggled down under the satin quilt.  Laughter echoed down the corridor
from the two nurses that Mrs Holland had hired and I knew that everything was
prepared for the baby’s arrival. But it was so different from when I had
Danny.  There were no baby clothes in sight, no woollen shawls, or lace caps,
no embroidered nightgowns and tiny socks.  There was nothing of the nursery
equipment needed for the new arrival.  My function was simply to bring the
child into the world and then it would be taken away.  And I was glad.  But
four days later something happened to shake my carefully controlled existence. 
To make me doubt my own feelings. 

 

I awoke to
another beautiful June day and spent most of it as I always did, with very
little deviation from my routine.  It must have been about five o’clock when I
decided to walk down to the lake before I returned to the house to dress for
dinner.  I stood at the water’s edge and sighed wearily.  The baby kicked me
and I grunted with annoyance.  And then my instincts told me that I was being
watched.  I froze.  I could sense someone a short distance away, probably
behind the large rhododendron bush just to the left and behind me.  It
certainly wasn’t a servant or Mrs Holland, as they would have spoken out
immediately.  Whoever it was stood a few feet from me, silent and waiting. 
Without turning round, I looked about for some kind of weapon, a long, thick
twig or a large stone.

“Please
don’t turn round, Isabelle.  Stay just where you are.”  His voice was soft,
just as it had been when I first heard it.

“Karl?”
I whispered.

I
heard him move nearer.  “Are you well?”

“Yes.”

“Are
they looking after you?”

“Yes.”

He
stepped closer and placed his hands on my shoulders.  “I had to come to see
you, although I was forbidden.”

“Breaking
the rules again,” I said smiling.

“Rules
are meant to be broken.”  I knew he was smiling too.

I
reached up and touched his hand and an electric charge surged through me. 
“Please let me turn round.”

“No. 
I can’t bear to look into your eyes.”

I
couldn’t understand what he meant so asked instead,  “When did you arrive in
France?”

“Only
yesterday.”

“You’re
not staying at the chateau?”

“We’re
staying in the neighbourhood.”  I took note of the ‘we’.  Of course he would
have his wife with him.  He came even nearer and I could feel the warmth of his
body next to mine.  His hands slipped from my shoulders and came round me and
then he was holding me against him.  I leaned my head against his shoulder and
closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation of being wrapped in his arms.  I did
love him, that I was sure of now.  “I’ve thought of you so often,” he whispered
against my hair.

“Have
you?”

“Sometimes
I’ve been tortured by the memory of you.  Dear Lord, I never imagined it would
be like this.”

I
swallowed hard.  “I thought you would have forgotten me by now.”

“Never.” 
One hand slipped down and rested on my swollen stomach, the other arm stayed
round me and I linked my fingers through his.  “I said I wouldn’t forget you. 
I told you you’re an important part of my life.”

I
started to hurt, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me.  “Is your wife
happy about the baby?”

He
caressed my stomach.  “She’s very happy.”  I turned my face slightly and he
rubbed his cheek against the side of my head.  “But this will always be our
child.  The baby we made together,” he said huskily.

I
paused slightly before saying,  “You mustn’t think like that.  It’s the child I
agreed to have for you and your wife.  Nothing more.”

“Is
that all it means to you?”  He seemed shocked.

“Yes,
Karl.  I’m afraid so.  I can’t afford to feel any different.  You know that.”

I
heard him take in a shuddering breath, realising I spoke the truth.  “I wish it
was different,” he said, kissing my neck.

“How?”

He
didn’t answer for a moment, but pulled me closer in a tighter embrace.  “It
doesn’t matter.  It can’t be different.”  He sounded bitter. 

He dipped
into his pocket and pulled out a gold and diamond heart-shaped pendant on a
gold chain and fastened the clasp round my neck. 

“What’s
this?” I asked, as I reached up to touch it.

“A
belated birthday present,” he murmured.  He glanced over his shoulder.  “I must
leave before we’re seen together.”  I tried to face him.  “No, you must promise
not to turn round.  Please stay as you are.  Do you promise me?”  I nodded
slowly.

He
dropped a kiss on my cheek and then I heard the sound of his footsteps as he walked
away.  Terrible silence followed.  I stood still for a long time, staring out
over the water, watching a swan skim across the lake, causing a skylark to soar
into the brilliant blue sky.  I wanted to be that skylark, to fly above the
trees and follow my love.  I wanted to see where he had gone.  But instead I
stood there, feeling numb, my emotions torn to shreds.  I wished he hadn’t come
to me.  It was as though he had plunged a knife through my heart.  I heard Mrs
Holland calling me and I finally turned to smile mistily at the diminutive
figure hurrying across the grass towards me.

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