Books: Jeanne Of The Marshes
E >>
E. Phillips Oppenheim >> Jeanne Of The Marshes
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 | 11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
17
"You!" he repeated bitterly. "You mean that I can dip into your
purse for pocket-money when you happen to have any. I have done too
much of it. You forget that there is one way into a new world, at
any rate."
The Princess smiled.
"My dear Nigel," she said, "it is a way which you will never take.
Don't think I mean to be unkind when I say that you have not the
courage. However, we will not talk about that. I sent for you to
tell you that De Brensault is really in earnest about Jeanne. He is
dining here to-night. I will get some other people and we will have
bridge. De Brensault is conceited, and a bad player, and what is
most important of all, he can afford to lose."
Forrest began to look a little less gloomy.
"You were fortunate," he remarked, "to get hold of De Brensault.
There are not many of his sort about. I am afraid, though, that he
will not make much of an impression upon Jeanne."
The Princess' face hardened.
"If Jeanne is going to be obstinate," she said, "she must suffer for
it. De Brensault is just the man I have been looking for. He wants a
young wife, and although he is rich, he is greedy. He is the sort of
person I can talk to. In fact I have already given him a hint."
Forrest nodded understandingly.
"But, Ena," he said, "if he really does shell out, won't you be
sailing rather close to the wind?"
She shrugged her shoulders.
"I am not afraid," she said. "I know De Brensault and his sort. If
he feels that he has been duped, he will keep it to himself. He is
too vain a man to allow the world to know it. Poor Jeanne! I am
afraid, I am very much afraid that he will take it out of her."
"I do not quite see," Forrest said reflectively, "how you are going
to make Jeanne marry any one, especially in this country."
"Jeanne is French, not English," the Princess remarked, "and she is
not of age. A mother has considerable authority legally, as I dare
say you are aware. We may not be able to manage it in England, but I
think I can guarantee that if De Brensault doesn't disappoint us,
the wedding will take place."
Forrest helped himself to a cigarette from an open box by his side.
"I think," he said, "that if it comes off we ought to go to the
States for a year or so. They don't know us so well there, and those
people are the easiest duped of any in the world."
The Princess nodded.
"I have thought of that," she remarked. "There are only one or two
little things against it. However, we will see. You had better go
now. I have some callers coming and must make myself respectable."
She gave him her hands and he raised them to his lips. Her eyes
followed him as he turned away and left the room. For a few moments
she was thoughtful. Then she shrugged her shoulders.
"Well," she said, "all things must come to an end, I suppose."
She rang the bell and sent for Jeanne. It was ten minutes, however,
before she appeared.
"What have you been doing?" the Princess asked with a frown.
"Finishing some letters," Jeanne answered calmly. "Did you want me
particularly?"
"To whom were you writing?" the Princess demanded.
"To Monsieur Laplanche for one person," Jeanne answered calmly.
The Princess raised her eyebrows.
"And what had you," she asked, "to say to Monsieur Laplanche?"
"I have written to ask him a few particulars concerning my fortune,"
Jeanne answered.
"Such as?" the Princess inquired steadily.
"I want to know," Jeanne said, "at what age it becomes my own, and
how much it amounts to. It seems to me that I have a right to know
these things, and as you will not tell me, I have written to
Monsieur Laplanche."
The Princess held out her hand.
"Give me the letter," she said.
Jeanne made no motion to obey.
"Do you object to my writing?" she asked.
"I object," the Princess said, "to your writing anybody on any
subject without my permission, and so far as regards the information
you have asked for from Monsieur Laplanche, I will tell you all that
you want to know."
"I prefer," Jeanne said steadily, "to hear it from Monsieur
Laplanche himself. There are times when you say things which I do
not understand. I have quite made up my mind that I will have things
made plain to me by my trustee."
The Princess was outwardly calm, but her eyes were like steel.
"You are a foolish child," she said. "I am your guardian. You have
nothing whatever to do with your trustees. They exist to help me,
not you. Everything that you wish to know you must learn from me. It
is not until you are of age that any measure of control passes from
me. Give me that letter."
Jeanne hesitated for a moment. Then she turned toward the door.
"No!" she said. "I am going to post it."
The Princess rose from her chair, and crossing the room locked the
door.
"Jeanne," she said, "come here."
The girl hesitated. In the end she obeyed. The Princess reached out
her hand and struck her on the cheek.
"Give me that letter," she commanded.
Jeanne shrank back. The suddenness of the blow, its indignity, and
these new relations which it seemed designed to indicate, bewildered
her. She stood passive while the Princess took the letter from her
fingers and tore it into pieces. Then she unlocked the door.
"Go to your room, Jeanne," she ordered.
Jeanne heard the sound of people ascending the stairs, and this time
she did not hesitate. The Princess drew a little breath and looked
at the fragments of the letter in the grate. It was victory of a
sort, but she realized very well that the ultimate issue was more
doubtful than ever. In her room Jeanne would have time for
reflection. If she chose she might easily decide upon the one step
which would be irretrievable.
CHAPTER V
The Count de Brensault was a small man, with a large pale face.
There were puffy little bags under his eyes, from which the colour
had departed. His hair, though skilfully arranged, was very thin at
the top, and his figure had the lumpiness of the man who has never
known any sort of athletic training. He looked a dozen years older
than his age, which was in reality thirty-five, and for the last ten
years he had been a constant though cautious devotee of every form
of dissipation. Jeanne, who sat by his side at dinner-time, found
herself looking at him more than once in a sort of fascinated
wonder. Was it really possible that any one could believe her
capable of marrying such a creature! There were eight people at
dinner, in none of whom she was in the least interested. The Count
de Brensault talked a good deal, and very loudly. He spoke of his
horses and his dogs and his motor cars, but he omitted to say that
he had ceased to ride his horses, and that he never drove his motor
car. Jeanne listened to him in quiet contempt, and the Princess
fidgetted in her chair. The man ought to know that this was not the
way to impress a child fresh from boarding-school!
"You seem," Jeanne remarked, after listening to him almost in
silence for a long time, "to give most of your time to sports. Do
you play polo?"
He shook his head.
"I am too heavy," he said, "and the game, it is a little dangerous."
"Do you hunt?" she asked.
"No!" he admitted. "In Belgium we do not hunt."
"Do you race with your motor cars?"
"I entered one," he answered, "for the Prix des Ardennes. It was the
third. My driver, he was not very clever."
"You did not drive it yourself, then?" she asked.
He laughed in a superior manner.
"I do not wish," he said, "to have a broken neck. There are so many
things in life which I still find very pleasant."
He smiled at her in a knowing manner, and Jeanne looked away to hide
her disgust.
"Your interest in sport," she remarked, "seems to be a sort of
second-hand one, does it not?"
"I do not know that," he answered. "I do not know quite what you
mean. At Ostend last year I won the great sweepstakes."
"For shooting pigeons?" she asked.
"So!" he admitted, with content.
She smiled.
"I see that I must beg your pardon," she said. "Have you ever done
any big game shooting?"
He shook his head.
"I do not like to travel very much," he answered. "I do not like the
cooking, and I think that my tastes are what you would call very
civilized."
The Princess intervened. She felt that it was necessary at any cost
to do so.
"The Count," she told Jeanne, "has just been elected a member of the
Four-in-Hand Club here. If we are very nice to him he will take us
out in his coach."
"As soon," De Brensault interposed hastily, "as I have found another
team not quite so what you call spirited. My black horses are very
beautiful, but I do not like to drive them. They pull very hard, and
they always try to run away."
The Princess sighed. The man, after all, was really a little
hopeless. She saw clearly that it was useless to try and impress
Jeanne. The affair must take its course. Afterwards in the drawing-
room the Count came and sat by Jeanne's side.
"Always," he declared, "in England it is bridge. One dines with
one's friends, and one would like to talk for a little time, and it
is bridge. It must be very dull for you little girls who are not old
enough to play. There is no one left to talk to you."
Jeanne smiled.
"Perhaps," she said, "I am an exception. There are very few people
whom I care to have talk to me."
She looked him in the eyes, but he was unfortunately a very spoilt
young man, and he only stroked the waxed tip of a scanty moustache.
"I am very glad to hear you say so, mademoiselle," he said. "That
makes it the more pleasant that your excellent mother gives me one
quarter of an hour's respite from bridge that we may have a little
conversation. Have you ever been in my country, Miss Le Mesurier?"
"I have only travelled through it," Jeanne answered; "but I am
afraid that you did not understand what I meant just now. I said
that there were very few people with whom I cared to talk. You are
not one of those few, Monsieur le Comte."
He looked at her with a half-open mouth. His eyes were suddenly like
beads.
"I do not understand," he said.
"I am afraid," Jeanne answered, with a sigh, "that you are very
unintelligent. What I meant to say was that I do not like to sit
here and talk with you. It wearies me, because you do not say
anything that interests me, and I should very much rather read my
book."
The Count de Brensault was nonplussed. He looked at Jeanne, and he
looked vaguely across the room at the Princess, as though wondering
whether he ought to appeal to her.
"Have I offended you?" he asked. "Perhaps I have said something that
you do not like. I am sorry."
"No, it is not that at all," Jeanne answered sweetly. "It is simply
that I do not like you. You must not mind if I tell you the truth.
You see I have only just come from boarding-school, and there we
were always taught to be quite truthful."
De Brensault stared at her again. This was the most extraordinary
young woman whom he had ever met in his life. Had not the Princess
only an hour ago told him that although he might find her a little
difficult at first, she was nevertheless prepared to receive his
advances. He had imagined himself dazzling her a little with his
title and possessions, gracefully throwing the handkerchief at her
feet, and giving her that slight share in his life and affection
which his somewhat continental ideas of domesticity suggested. Had
she really meant to be rude to him, or was she nervous? He looked at
her once more, still with that unintelligent stare. Jeanne was
perfectly composed, with her pale cheeks and large serious eyes. She
was obviously speaking the truth. Then as he looked the expression
in his eyes changed. She was gradually becoming desirable, not only
on account of her youth and dowry--there were other things. He felt
a sudden desire to kiss those very shapely, somewhat full lips,
which had just told him so calmly that their owner disliked him.
Already he was telling himself in his mind that some day, when she
was his altogether, for a plaything or what he chose to make of her,
he would remind her of this evening.
"I am sorry," he said, "that you do not like me, but that is because
you are not used to men. Presently you will know me better, and then
I am sure it will be different. As for you," he continued, looking
at her in a manner which he felt should certainly awaken some
different feeling in her inexperienced heart, "I admire you very
much indeed. I have seen you only once or twice, but I have thought
of you much. Some day I hope that we shall be very much better
friends."
He leaned a little toward her, and Jeanne calmly removed herself a
little further away. She turned her head now to look at him, as she
sat upright upon the sofa, very slim and graceful in her white gown.
"I do not think so," she said. "I do not care about being friendly
with people whom I dislike, and I am beginning to dislike you very
much indeed because you will not go away when I ask you."
He rose to his feet a little offended.
"Very well," he said, "I will go and talk to your stepmother, who
wants me to play bridge, but very soon I shall come back, and before
long I think that I am going to make you like me very much."
He crossed the room, and Jeanne's eyes followed his awkward gait
with a sudden flash of quiet amusement. She watched him talk to her
stepmother, and she saw the Princess' face darken. As a matter of
fact De Brensault felt that he had some just cause for complaint.
"Dear Princess," he said, "you did not tell me that she was so very
farouche, so very shy indeed. I speak to her quite kindly, and she
tells me that she does not like me, and that she wished me to go
away."
The Princess looked across the room towards Jeanne, who was calmly
reading, and apparently oblivious of everything that was passing.
"My dear Count," she said, tapping his hand with her fan, "she is
very, very serious. She would like to have been a nun, but of course
we would not hear of it. I think that she was a little afraid of
you. You looked at her very boldly, you know, and she is not used to
the glances of men. At her age, perhaps--you understand?"
The Count was not quite sure that he did understand. He had a most
unpleasant recollection of the firmness and decision with which
Jeanne had announced her views with regard to him, but he looked
towards her again and the look was fatal. Jeanne was certainly a
most desirable young person, quite apart from her dowry.
"It may be as you say, Princess," he said. "I must leave her to you
for a little time. You must talk to her. She is quite pretty," he
added with an involuntary note of condescension in his tone. "I am
very pleased with her. In fact I am quite attracted."
"You will remember," the Princess said, dropping her voice a little,
"that before anything definite is said, you and I must have a little
conversation."
De Brensault twirled his moustache. He looked up at the Princess as
though trying to fathom the meaning of her words.
"Certainly," he answered slowly. "I have not forgotten what you
said. Of course, her dot is very large, is it not?"
"It is very large indeed," the Princess answered, "and there are a
great many young men who would be very grateful to me indeed if I
were willing even to listen to them."
De Brensault nodded.
"Very well," he said. "We will have that little talk whenever you
like."
The Princess nodded.
"I suppose," she said, "we must play bridge now. They are waiting
for us."
De Brensault looked behind to where Jeanne was still sitting
reading. Her head was resting upon a sofa pillow, deep orange
coloured, against which the purity of her complexion, the delicate
lines of her eyebrows, the shapeliness of her exquisite mouth, were
all more than ever manifest. She read with interest, and without
turning her head away from the pages of the book which she held in
long, slender fingers. De Brensault sighed as he turned away.
"Certainly," he said. "We will go and play bridge. But I will tell
you what it is, my dear Princess. I think I am very near falling in
love with your little stepdaughter."
CHAPTER VI
Forrest crossed the room and waited his opportunity until the
Princess was alone.
"Let me take you somewhere," he said. "I want to talk to you."
She laid her fingers upon his arm, and they walked slowly away from
the crowded part of the ballroom.
"So you are up again," she remarked looking at him curiously. "Does
that mean--?"
"It means nothing, worse luck," he answered, "except that I have
twenty-four hours' leave. I am off back again at eight o'clock to-
morrow morning. Tell me about this De Brensault affair. How is it
going on?"
"Well enough on his side," she answered. "The amusing part of it is
that the more Jeanne snubs him, the keener he gets. He sends roses
and chocolates every day, and positively haunts the house. I never
was so tired of any one."
"Make him your son-in-law quickly," he said grimly. "You'll see
little enough of him then."
"I'm not sure," the Princess said reflectively, "whether it is quite
wise to hurry Jeanne so much."
"Wise or not," Forrest said, "it must be done. Even supposing the
other affair comes out all right, London is getting impossible for
me. I don't know who's at the bottom of it, but people have stopped
sending me invitations, and even at my pothouse of a club the men
seem to have as little to say to me as possible. Some one's at work
spreading reports of some sort or another. I am not over sensitive,
but the thing's becoming an impossibility."
"Do you suppose," she asked quietly, "that it is the Engleton
affair?"
He nodded.
"People are saying all sorts of things," he answered. "I'd go abroad
to-morrow and leave De la Borne to look out for himself, but I
haven't even the money to pay my railway fare."
The Princess shrugged her shoulders expressively.
"Oh, I'm not begging!" he continued. "I know you're pretty well in
the same box."
"That," the Princess remarked, "scarcely expresses it. I am a great
deal worse off than you, because I have a houseful of unpaid
servants, and a mob of tradespeople, who are just beginning to
clamour. I see that you are looking at my necklace," she continued.
"I can assure you that I have not a single real stone left.
Everything I possess that isn't in pawn is of paste."
"Then don't you see, Ena," he said, "that this thing really must be
hurried forward? De Brensault is ready enough, isn't he?"
"Quite," she answered.
"And he understands the position?"
"I think so," the Princess answered. "I have given him to understand
it pretty clearly."
"Then have a clear business talk with him," Forrest said, "and then
have it out with Jeanne. You could all go abroad together, and they
could be married at the Embassy, say at Paris."
"Jeanne is the only difficulty," the Princess said. "It would suit
me better, for upon my word I don't know where I could get credit
for her trousseau."
"It isn't any use waiting," Forrest said. "I have watched them
together, and I am sure of it. De Brensault isn't one of those
fellows who improve upon acquaintance. Look, there they are. Nothing
very lover-like about that, is there?"
De Brensault and Jeanne were crossing the room together. Only the
very tips of her fingers rested upon his coat-sleeve, and there was
a marked aloofness about her walk and the carriage of her head. He
was saying something to her to which she seemed to be paying the
scantiest of attention. Her head was thrown back, and in her eyes
was a great weariness. Suddenly, just as they reached the entrance,
they saw her whole expression change. A wave of colour flooded her
cheeks. Her eyes were suddenly filled with life. They saw her lips
part. Her hands were outstretched to greet the man who, crossing the
room, had stopped at her summons. Both the Princess and Forrest
frowned when they saw who it was. It was Andrew de la Borne.
"That infernal fisherman!" Forrest muttered. "I saw in the paper
that he had returned this afternoon from The Hague."
The Princess made an involuntary movement forward, but Forrest
checked her.
"You can do no good," he said. "Wait and see what happens."
What did happen was very simple, and for the Count de Brensault a
little humiliating. Jeanne passed her arm through the newcomer's and
with the curtest of nods to her late companion, disappeared through
an open doorway. The Belgian stood looking after them, twirling his
moustache with shaking fingers. His face was paler even than usual,
and he was shaking with anger.
"Leave him alone for a few minutes," Forrest said to the Princess.
"You will do no good at all by speaking to him just now. Ena, it is
absolutely necessary that you make Jeanne understand the state of
affairs."
"I think," the Princess said thoughtfully, "that it will be best to
take her away from London. Lately I have noticed a development in
Jeanne which I do not altogether understand. She has begun to think
for herself most unpleasantly. She plays at being a child with De
Brensault, but that is simply because it is the easiest way to
repulse him."
Meanwhile Jeanne, whose face was transfigured, and whose whole
manner was changed, was sitting with her companion in the quietest
corner they could find.
"It is delightful to see you again," she said frankly. "I do not
think that any one ever felt so lonely as I do."
He smiled.
"I can assure you that I find it delightful to be back again," he
said, "although I have enjoyed my work very much. By the by, who
introduced you to the man whom you were with when I found you?"
"My stepmother," she answered. "He is the man, by the by, whom I am
told I am to marry."
Andrew looked as he felt for a moment, shocked.
"I am sorry to hear that," he said quietly.
"You need not be afraid," she answered. "I am not of age, and I was
brought up in a country where one's guardians have a good deal of
authority, but nothing in the world would ever induce me to marry a
creature like that."
His face cleared somewhat.
"I am very surprised," he said, "that your stepmother should have
thought of it. He is an unfit companion for any self-respecting
woman."
"I do not understand," Jeanne said quietly, "why they are so anxious
that I should marry quickly, but I know that my stepmother thinks of
nothing else in connection with me. Look! They are coming through
the conservatories. Let us go out by the other door."
They came face to face with a tall, grave-looking man, who wore an
order around his neck. Andrew stopped suddenly.
"I should like," he said to Jeanne, "to introduce you to my friend.
You have met him before down at the Red Hall, and on the island, but
that scarcely counts. Westerham, this is Miss Le Mesurier. You
remember that you saw her at Salthouse."
The Duke shook hands with the girl, looking at her attentively. His
manner was kind, but his eyes seemed to be questioning her all the
time.
"I am very glad to know you, Miss Le Mesurier," he said. "My friend
Andrew here has spoken of you to me."
They remained talking together for some minutes, until, in fact,
Forrest and the Princess, who were in pursuit of them, appeared. The
Princess looked curiously at the Duke, and Forrest frowned heavily
when he recognized him. There was a moment's almost embarrassed
silence. Then Andrew did what seemed to him to be the reasonable
thing.
"Princess," he said, "will you allow me to present my friend the
Duke of Westerham. The Duke was staying with me a few weeks ago, as
you know, and at that time he had a particular reason for not
wishing his whereabouts to be known."
The Duke bowed over the Princess' hand, which was offered him at
once, and without hesitation, but his greeting to Forrest was
markedly cold. Forrest had evidently lost his nerve. He seemed
tongue-tied, and he was very pale. It was the Princess alone who
saved the situation from becoming an exceedingly embarrassing one.
"I have heard of you very often, Duke," she said. "Your brother,
Lord Ronald, took us down to Norfolk, you know. By the by, have you
heard from him yet?"
"Not yet, madam," the Duke said, "but I can assure you that it is
only a matter of time before I shall discover his whereabouts. I
wonder whether your ward will do me the honour of giving me this
dance?" he added, turning to her. "I am afraid I am not a very
skilful performer, but perhaps she will have a little consideration
for one who is willing to do his best."
He led Jeanne away from them, and Andrew, after a moment's
stereotyped conversation, also departed. The Princess and Forrest
were alone.
"This is getting worse and worse," Forrest muttered. "He is
suspicious. I am sure that he is. They say that young Engleton was
his favourite brother, and that he is determined--"
"Hush!" the Princess said. "There are too many people about to talk
of these things. I wonder why the Duke took Jeanne off."
"An excuse for getting away from us," Forrest said. "Did you see the
way he looked at me? Ena, I cannot hang on like this any longer. I
must have a few thousand pounds and get away."
The Princess nodded.
"We will go and talk to De Brensault," she said. "I should think he
would be just in the frame of mind to consent to anything."
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 | 11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
17