Portrait of a Girl (13 page)

He
lazed back on the sofa with an enigmatic look on his face that discomforted me. It was as though he was assessing me properly for the first time, wondering whether or not he could trust me perhaps — or about something else — something deeply personal that brought the rich colour to my cheeks and set my heart racing.

‘
I don’t think you’re telling me the truth, Miss Lebrun. You understand far more than you admit. For instance — if you search my coat pocket you’ll discover a shred of linen — a lady’s handkerchief, I believe — that I found on a thorn bush when I struggled up those abominable steps. You knew very well there was a passage hidden below all that rubble.’ He smiled wrily. ‘A pity you didn’t realise I’d have to use it —maybe you could have cleaned it up a little.’

Enlightenment
dawned on me.

‘
Oh
! the
hole
.’

‘
Exactly. This cottage was used in the past as a dumping place for goods. But not for many years. I needed it for — other things.’ He lowered his gaze. His voice dropped a little sadly, reminding me of what ‘other things’ probably implied — mostly the image of the lovely girl in the portrait.

‘
I see.’

He
sighed. ‘Maybe you will eventually, and I expect you’re wondering why I took that foul passage tonight?’

‘
Well — why did you?’

‘
I became a fox, Josephine, so the revenue, like hounds, could hunt
me
instead of my two faithful men, which they did. The entrance to the passage is some distance from the cove, leading from a rock crevice, just wide enough to squeeze through. Conveniently for me, the clouds thickened at the most important moment, leaving the Preventative completely bemused. Hopefully, my accomplices had sufficient time to be properly away and replace the slab. If they didn’t—’

‘
Yes?’

‘
Ah well, there’s always a risk about this sort of thing but I’m not really worried now. What worried me was when I came upon blocked places in that foul passage. I had to scratch and burrow like an old mole; the air was fetid at times — nothing but dust and mud. Still — I’ve done it, and still live, thank God.’

I
thanked God as well, in my heart.

‘
The trouble is,’ he resumed, ‘that old wreck won’t help us any more. You may be sure the area will be well watched from now on.’

‘
A good thing too,’ I said tartly, surprising even myself; I must have sounded exactly like Dame Jenny.

‘
And just what do you mean by that?’ he asked in the hard determined way I knew so well.

I
was confused and taken aback, realising I had actually no right to comment on what Mr Verne should or should not do. My cheeks burned as I replied, ‘I’m sorry, I suppose it isn’t my place to speak like that. I was merely thinking of your safety. I mean—’

‘
Yes, do go on.’

‘
Well — you could — you could get seriously hurt or worse, couldn’t you — if anything like this happened again? Have you
got
to go on with smuggling?’

He
raised his brows and shrugged.

‘
A man like myself has to have certain things in his life such as — excitement of a kind perhaps — challenge, and the means of retaining certain standards, of having the luxuries he’s used to.’

‘
Like your treasure room?’

His
face was expressionless when he answered, ‘Something of the sort.’ It was as though a veil had clouded his features, and I knew he was thinking of the girl in the portrait. I was suddenly impatient, and filled with jealousy.

I
went to the door abruptly, turned and said in matter-of-fact tones, ‘You must be hungry. I know I am, after all the disturbance—’

‘F
or which I profoundly apologise.’ His voice was filled with mockery.

‘
There’s cold ham,’ I told him, ignoring the sarcasm. ‘I’ll make sandwiches and find something for Brutus. Come along, boy.’

Without
waiting for Rupert’s reply, I left the parlour, with the dog obediently at my heels.

Two
o’clock struck when the snack meal I’d managed to provide was over. A curious silence had arisen between Rupert and me, an awkwardness filled with unspoken questions, doubts, hesitancy, and longings on my part, which made me gauche and unable to speak or behave naturally.

‘
You’ll be very late back at Kerrysmoor, won’t you?’ I said at last. ‘I mean, without a horse or anything—’ I broke off stupidly. He got up from the chair, put a hand to the grazed cheek, which was no longer bleeding, and agreed with an ironic semblance of a short laugh. ‘Certainly. My horse, I’m quite sure, is already back at the stables, in more respectable shape than I am. But a few miles’ walk should freshen me up, and I know the quickest route there is.’

‘
Is it safe? Or would you rather—’

‘
Bide here till dawn?’ The golden eyes gleamed with mockery. ‘My dear girl! What man in his senses wouldn’t? But under the circumstances it would be a little rash I think; in my own way I have principles, and I’ve no taste for testing them where you’re concerned. A young woman of your type is — or
should
be — sacrosanct, in this particular instance. In other words—’ His jaw tightened, the light in his eyes smouldered with the rising heat of desire, ‘— I
respect
you, Josephine, and if you go on looking at me like that, then heaven help both of us. I must be off, or dammit, darling, I’m only human—’ He made a gesture of leaving, but I was before him at the door.

‘
No. Don’t go.’ The plea broke from me heedlessly. ‘There’s no need. I don’t care a fig about respectability or what’s done or not done. Rupert — please—’

He
sighed, shaking his head slowly, then suddenly gave in, and gathered me to him, cradling my head against his breast. Half sobbing, half laughing with joy, I clung to him in complete abandonment, while he kissed my forehead, my cheeks and lips, burying his mouth in my hair. The scent and strength of his male body was all around — both a torment and opiate soothing and exciting me to forgetfulness of the world, of everything but the knowledge that it had happened at last. We were alone together, free to belong in the richest and deepest way possible to man and woman.

‘
Love me, Rupert,’ I pleaded, as he carried me to the sofa, ‘Oh, please, please love me.’

Very
gently but firmly, he laid me down, and removed my wrap and nightshift. He was trembling. The scar near his shoulder showed briefly as he freed himself of constricting clothing. I touched it lightly, caressingly, but his lips were on mine again and the world was blotted out as our flesh became one, borne on a surging flood-tide of passion in which nothing registered but the wild fulfilment of mutual desire and need.

There
was no doubting any more, no questioning or uncertainty. What had to be
was
, and had been destined assuredly as spring must follow winter, with summer’s glory to follow.

When
it was over we still lay entwined as emotional tumult died into sensuous sweet acceptance. My heart ached from an overburdening of joy. ‘Until this moment,’ I thought, ‘I had no knowledge of what life could be. If I died now it would be with no regret, because heaven is here — beyond the limits of Time or mortality, and he is with me—’

‘
Darling—’ I heard Rupert murmuring, stirring yet again closer. ‘Oh, love, my love.’ And like a flower suddenly brought to full blossoming, my body once more reached towards him, and was possessed, as was my spirit, until peace came, and eventually we slept.

*

At the first streak of dawn before it was perfectly light, Rupert set off once more for Kerrysmoor, after a quick drink and a piece of cake I’d baked the previous day. He set off from the back of Tregonnis taking a short route I didn’t know of, bordered by small stone-walled hills beneath the base of the moor. As his strong figure strode away to be lost in the half-light I wondered if Lady Verne would have missed his presence during the night, or even been aware of his absence. The mere thought of her existence momentarily chilled me. But when I went through to the kitchen doubt died in a rush of warm memory, and the knowledge that I was beloved.

All
that morning I lived in a dream, untroubled by practical issues. It was only when evening approached that it occurred to me no concrete plan had been discussed concerning a future meeting. He would soon come, I knew that, but waiting was going to be a strain. I must be careful
always
of my appearance — never appear overtired or slip-shod in the slightest way. My face must never be shiny from exertion or steamy from the washtub, nor my hair ungroomed. My aprons must be spotless, and my skin sweetly smelling from cologne for his delight. There would be no difficulty in appearing the young lady of Tregonnis rather than its servant or caretaker, there was so little to do domestically without Dame Jenny. For myself I would keep cooking to a minimum, and prevail on Jan to spend more time washing the floors free of Brutus’s footmarks and any mud stains brought in from his walks. I had made it my business to be friendly with the youth from the beginning of our acquaintanceship, and I think in an admiring fashion he liked me. He was also very loyal to Rupert.

So
the first day passed, then another, and another.

Against
my better judgement and optimism a niggle of anxiety seized me.

‘
Have you seen the master recently?’ I asked Jan when the fifth afternoon arrived, and there was still no sign of Rupert.

He
shook his head. ‘I haven’t seen en, Miss, he hasn’ showed up at all when I took butter an’ such to the big house. But I’ve heard tell ’er ladyship wasn’ well, so I suppose he’ve bin spendin’ more time with ’er. Nat’ral that, edn’ et?’

‘
Oh yes, of course,’ I replied mutely, thinking with an irrational burst of pain and disappointment, ‘but it’s not true. She may
call
herself his wife, but it’s here he belongs — with
me
at Tregonnis.’

I
longed to burst out with the truth. Let not only Jan but the whole world know of our relationship. Love like ours should never be secret or hidden, but declared openly with honesty and pride.

Something
of my inner struggle must have shown.

‘
Is everythin’ all right, miss?’ Jan asked. ‘Nuthen wrong, is there?’

I
pulled myself together quickly.

‘
No, nothing wrong at all,’ I declared, hoping it was true. ‘I was just wondering if — if her ladyship was likely to be ill for long.’

‘
Oh doan’ worry ’bout ’er,’ the boy said, with a laugh. ‘She gets turns sometimes, an’ then the Master has to be around, that’s all.’

‘
What sort of turns?’ I asked.

He
shrugged, eyed me with curiosity for a moment, then replied, ‘Just headaches. Megrims they call it at Kerrysmoor, the thing most fine high-up ladies suffer from, I do b’lieve.’

With
that I had to be content; but fear, like a frail shadow, rose to haunt me, because I sensed more lay behind Jan’s words than he was willing to admit, and that it very easily could concern me, and the night Rupert had spent at Tregonnis.

Chapter Eight

Another week passed following my conversation with Jan, before Rupert appeared.

It
was a golden afternoon that day, and I was cutting a few of Dame Jenny’s crimson roses for the boy to take to her when he went to Kerrysmoor the next morning. There was a slight breeze rippling the surface of the pool, and a sighing sound stirred the branches of an overhanging willow. Bees buzzed and a blackbird sang from a thorn tree. I was humming under my breath. That fact combined with Nature’s murmuring was probably why I didn’t at first hear footsteps approaching along the path. The sound didn’t properly register until he spoke.

‘
Josephine—’

I
looked round sharply, and he was there, standing only a few yards away. At first I couldn’t speak. Surprise, combined with a welling up of sudden joy shocked me to silence. Then I gave a little cry and ran to him. He kissed me. But the kiss was a gentle one. It was as though since our last passionate meeting something had happened that had drained energy and initiative from him. I stood back, studying him anxiously. His face too, appeared drawn. A little of the fire had left his eyes, but tenderness was there — a kind of weary compassion.

‘
What’s wrong?’ I asked. ‘Is anything the matter?’

‘
My wife’s — ill, as you must have heard or I should have been here earlier.’

‘
I’m sorry,’ I said politely. ‘Is her sickness serious?’

‘
Yes.’

‘
Are you trying to tell me we shan’t — you won’t be able to visit me or something?’

He
moved towards me again; his touch on my shoulder felt for a brief moment like that of a parent trying to break bad news to a child. Instinctively I pulled myself away, and facing him with my chin raised an inch or two higher, said, ‘Please don’t try and evade the truth, Rupert. I’m a woman, and quite capable of hearing it. If you regret what happened, you’ve only got to say. But—’

In
an instant his tired calm deserted him, and his arm was round me, while with the other hand he tilted my face up to his. This time his lips were firm and warm on mine. Through my thin dress I could feel the thudding of his heart. Then he released me, and I was thankful to see his countenance flooded with a warmer colour, and that something of the old flame lit his eyes.

‘
Don’t you dare ever speak like that again,’ he said sternly, ‘or I’ll have to spank sense into you.
Regret
! how can there be regret for the best thing that ever happened to me.’

‘
Then what is it?’

‘F
or a time, my love, it’s better for both of us that we don’t meet too frequently. Only for a time, remember. After that—’ he broke off hesitantly.

‘
Yes? Afterwards?’

‘
I think you know,’ he replied ambiguously.

‘
I don’t though,’ I told him frankly. ‘I
thought
I did — at least — perhaps I didn’t think much about it — practically. But I
did
believe that in the end we’d be together,’ I paused, continuing when he said nothing, ‘Will we, Rupert?’

‘
My love, as soon as possible. In the meantime I’m quite sure you need something more to occupy you than being closeted alone here with only a great dog and occasional visit from Jan for company. So I’ve contacted my friend Luigi, and he’s consented to give you further singing tuition, twice a week for so long as necessary to renew your confidence—’

I
gasped.

‘
Luigi
? But — I don’t think I could. I don’t
want
to any more. I simply couldn’t face going through the kind of thing that happened at Exeter again. I know my voice is all right, of its kind — for singing at places like the Golden Bird. But not in opera. Truly, Rupert, fame isn’t important to me any more. Surely you understand?’

‘
Yes, I understand what you feel at the moment; but Luigi still has great faith in your potential, so have I. You needn’t necessarily make a career of your voice; that will be up to you; but the knowledge of being
able
to should count. Don’t you understand, darling?’

I
tried to, but it was difficult. Once more my life was in a whirl. From an over-quiet daily routine lit to expectancy each morning that the evening might possibly bring Rupert to my bed, I was suddenly confronted with a period of lessons under the tuition of the strict little Italian to whom I’d already brought disappointment and my own humiliation.

I
protested strongly at first to Rupert’s plan which meant that each Tuesday and Friday I would be taken to Truro in the chaise as before — and brought back again at a certain hour.

It
was no use.

When
I objected not only on personal grounds, but pointed out that the treasure room would be left unprotected, which was the primary reason that I’d stayed on following Dame Jenny’s departure, he smiled reasoningly and assured me I needn’t worry on such grounds. ‘Beth Johns, a capable housemaid, will arrive with the chaise on the days of your departure,’ he said, ‘and be taken back again when you return. She’s a sturdy character, quite capable of defending herself, if necessary, and she’ll have Brutus don’t forget.’

He
paused. I was aggrieved, and when I didn’t speak, he said, ‘
Please
, my love. For me.’

I
wheeled round with a flurry of skirts and a flame of hot colour in my cheeks.

‘
Why for
you
? Is it your conscience pricking you or something? Why should my voice be suddenly so important again? Are
you
frightened
, Rupert?’

His
expression darkened. ‘What the devil do you mean?’ Both hands enclosed on my arms. I thought at first he was about to shake me, but he didn’t.

I
stared at him defiantly and answered with a lurch of my heart, ‘What I said —
frightened
— of her, your wife? Is
she
at the bottom of this?’

He
freed me then, and his voice was cold when he replied, ‘That is my business, Josephine. Some things must remain private to me — even from you.’

Misery
engulfed me. ‘Yes, yes — I’m sorry. Oh, Rupert—’

I
turned away. The next moment I felt his mouth brush the nape of my neck at the back. His voice was soft against my ear when he murmured, ‘Be patient. I love you. But unless you accept the situation as it is, it’s just no good, Josephine. Remember I have other things in my life as well.’

Hope
stirred in me.

‘
You mean the smuggling? But I thought—’

‘
What you thought is neither here nor there. Just trust me and be co-operative.’ He swung me round. ‘Is that understood?’

I
sighed. ‘All right. If you insist. But I can promise you I shan’t enjoy it — having to tra-la and solfa before that fussy little man.’

‘
Oh I don’t think it will be too bad,’ he said ambiguously, obviously relieved. ‘And now, look at me, you witch! and smile, d’you hear?’

I
did; I couldn’t help it. Against that certain warm look in his strange eyes I seemed to have no defence.

So
the issue was settled, and the following week lessons recommenced with Signor Luigi in Truro.

They
weren’t so onerous as I’d expected. He was unexpectedly pleasant to me, and assured me he’d never lost interest or faith in my voice.

‘
Your patron though — my good friend, Mr Verne — has slightly different plans for its promotion,’ he said affably, ‘or shall we say its use.’

‘
Oh?’

‘
Opera, he told me, is not entirely to your fancy, at the moment, so we shall take a lighter approach in training — calculated for a more suitable role such as highly born ladies indulge in, at soirees and in drawing rooms.’

‘
Drawing
rooms?’ I gasped.

He
smiled, stroking his little beard, with a calculating look in his bright eyes. ‘You have all the potential it takes to become the rage and toast — the reigning queen of fashionable gatherings,’ he stated. ‘That is the line we shall follow from now on. Movements and grace will also play an important part. I can assure you when your coaching is completed, no duchess in the land will compare.’

‘
But I don’t
want
to be a duchess, or a — a warbling socialite creature,’ I exclaimed rashly. ‘I’m not like that. I’m
me
— Josephine Lebrun. Rupert — I mean Mr Verne — is
wrong
in trying to make me into something different. Oh I don’t think having lessons again is a good idea at all.’

‘
Maybe not at the moment,’ the little man said acerbically, ‘but you
will
. It’s what you’re here for, and I trust you’re not going to be difficult. Under the circumstances such an attitude would be most unfair — to me.’

Realising
there was no point in arguing I gave in with as good a grace as possible and decided piquantly that if I was destined to become a drawingroom party-piece and dainty triller of ballads, then I should dress in a manner befitting the character. I would write a note to Rupert telling him my wardrobe needed refurbishing, had I his permission to order a new cloak and bonnet, and if it was not asking too much two new gowns also from the costumier’s in Truro, as I did not now care to appear in Signor Luigi’s presence dressed in anything but the best. Yes, I would do that, and send the note by Jan, or the coachman. Either Rupert would have to reply, or call in person at Tregonnis to give an answer. The mischievous impulse stimulated and lifted my spirits considerably, and after making the decision I had the note ready for the man to take on the next day when I returned by chaise from Truro.

The
following morning Jan was due to call at Kerrysmoor with some farm produce, and I waited hopefully for his return, and a message. It was twelve o’clock before the youth got back.

‘
The Master sent this for you,’ he said, handing me a gilt-edged envelope. ‘Tell Miss Lebrun to give et to the place marked in Truro, and everythin’ should be all right, he said.’

‘
Very well, thank you, Jan.’

When
he’d gone I looked at the name on the envelope. It was addressed to the most select costumiers in the City, and was unsealed. So obviously I had permission to read what was inside:

Madam,
I should be obliged if you would equip Miss Josephine Lebrun with any select feminine garments she fancies. I am sure your advice would be of great help to her as she is likely to be launched socially at a suitable time in the future. Expense in this case is of no consideration. If you let me know what is owed I will see you have the sum at the nearest possible date.

Yours
truly,

Rupert
Verne.

‘
Launched into society’ I thought. How very ridiculous when at the moment all that Rupert appeared to wish — except for my sessions with Luigi — was to keep me pushed away at Tregonnis. Still, I would certainly take advantage of his offer and acquire the most elegant and flattering gowns in the fashionable establishment — if only for
his
benefit, so that his desire would be intensified and he would be stimulated somehow to decide what future we could have together.

Madame
Juliette’s salon was situated in the vicinity of Lemon Street. It was richly carpeted, with tall mirrors placed conveniently at every angle for viewing the figure, and curtained wardrobes intriguingly parted to display clothing of a tempting variety — luxurious more than of a utility type. Flowery and be-feathered headgear rested daintily on tall stands; gilt furniture of a French style was arranged so that it allowed a wide space for clients to wander to and fro studying their reflections under cunningly contrived lighting. Tall-stemmed flowers in crystal vases added an exotic, yet delicate, atmosphere and the air was fragrant with subtle perfume. Everything, in fact, induced an expensive sense of luxury that was both stimulating and relaxing.

Feeling
free to choose, and mildly mischievous, I wandered about for some time trying this and that, while Madame Juliette obsequiously ‘modomed’ and flattered me. As time passed a faint irritation sounded in her voice. I wasn’t surprised — no high-born lady in the land could have appeared more demanding and critical than the creature I was pretending to be for that intriguing half-hour.

However,
at last my choice was made: a deep lilac satin gown, having an over-mantle of olive green velvet trimmed with violet braid; and a cream heavy silk costume consisting of a short-waisted coatee and full skirt gathered from the hips to the back forming the suggestion of a bustle. The hem of the skirt was heavily embroidered in gold thread, and there were tiny gold buttons down the front of the coat. To go with it I discovered a cream boat-shaped hat to be worn saucily tilted forward; it was trimmed with osprey and had chiffon veiling behind.