Виктория Холт - The Silk Vendetta

As for myself I was passing into a new phase. Lady Sallonger was very pleased about it. She was thinking up more tasks for me. “It is absurd … a girl of your age… going to the schoolroom every day. Why, I don’t doubt you could teach Miss Everton a thing or two. I want you to look at my tapestry. I think there is something wrong with the pattern.” That meant her stitches were at fault, but she blamed the design, not herself. “You can come to me in the mornings when you leave the schoolroom. I feel so lonely when I am having my glass of sherry. I want you to talk to me.”

I said to Grand’mere: “Lady Sallonger is going to find new ways of using my time when I leave the schoolroom.”

“We must try to defeat her,” replied Grand’mere.

My seventeenth birthday must be celebrated. She was going to arrange a very small party in her room—Cassie, herself and myself. She would mention it to Philip if he came home and perhaps he might like to join us.

The day came. It was a typical November day—the sort I always associated with birthdays. There was mist in the air and from my windows the forest seemed touched in mystery.

Lady Sallonger had given me a silk shawl which had once belonged to her.

She said: “We should have celebrated your birthday, Lenore, but for being in mourning for Sir Francis.”

”I understand,” I told her.’ ‘I really don’t want a celebration. I ‘m just glad to be seventeen.”

“Seventeen! I remember my seventeenth birthday. What a day! There was a party at the Hall. I wasn’t ‘out’ then. You would have loved the Hall. It was very grand, very baronial. Of course there was a great fuss when I married Sir Francis. My people were against it. Trade, you know …and they guessed that I should have married right at the top. I could tell you some tales.”

“I expect you will,” I could not help replying.

She missed the irony. In fact I was sure she did not listen to anything anyone else said.

I told her the silk shawl was lovely. It was. It was hand-painted with blue and pink butterflies on green leaves; but I was beginning to feel that it was not so wonderful to be seventeen if I were to be pressed into further duties.

In the afternoon Lady Sallonger developed a headache—a real one, which meant that she must stay in her room and lie in the dark. Miss Logan and I got her to bed and left her.

As I came out of her room I saw Philip coming up the stairs. He had just arrived.

“Oh, Philip,” I cried, “how nice that you have come home on my birthday!”

“But of course I did. Where is my mother?”

“She has just gone to bed. She has one of her headaches.”

“So you are free. I wanted to talk to you.”

He opened the door of his mother’s sitting room. “In here,” he said, “where we can be quiet.”

We went into the room. He shut the door and, putting his arms round me, kissed me.

“Happy birthday!” he said.

“Thank you, Philip.”

“At last you have reached it.”

“Yes, I’m seventeen. It does seem to have taken a long time to get there.”

He took my face in his hands. “I promised myself that I would wait until then.”

“For what?”

“I have something for you.” He fumbled in his pocket and took out a velvet covered case.

“What is it?” I asked. “For you. I hope you like it. If it doesn’t fit they can do something about it.” I opened the case and there was a ring. It was splendid—an emerald surrounded by diamonds.

“I thought the green would suit you,” he said. “Your eyes look a little greeny sometimes.”

“This forme, Philip!”

“It’s meant to mean something. An engagement ring.”

He took my left hand and slipped it on the third finger. Then he kissed it. “It is what I’ve wanted for a long time, Lenore.”

I was bewildered. Grand’mere had hinted at this, but I had never really believed her. I thought she was imagining what she wanted to happen.

“Lenore,” he went on, “I’ve loved you for such a long time, and all this excitement we’ve had lately has brought us closer together. Do you feel that?”

“Why … yes.”

“Then …”

“But Philip … I wasn’t expecting this. I feel so … I don’t know … so foolish really … so uncertain … not knowing.”

“Didn’t you know I was waiting for this day?”

“No.”

“I thought it was so obvious. You look a bit shocked. It is just the surprise, isn’t it? I mean you do care for me?”

“Of course I care for you. You’ve always been so good and kind to me. It’s just, I suppose, that I am not ready.”

I took the ring from my finger. “Philip … can’t we wait?”

He shook his head. “I’ve waited long enough. I want you now. I want us to be married. I want to share everything with you. We care about the same things … you and your grandmother. I can’t tell you what this has meant to me.”

I put the ring back into the case and gave it to him.

“Just a little while please, Philip.”

He smiled ruefully. “Not so long,” he said. “Promise me … not for long.”

“No,” I said. “It won’t be for long.”

He went to his room, a little less exuberantly than he had come in; and I went upstairs.

Grand’mere came in.

“Was that Philip? Why, what’s the matter? You look…how Is it… not yourself.”

“Philip has asked me to marry him.”

Joy suffused her face; her eyes sparkled and the colour in her cheeks made her look like a young woman. “I am so happy,” she said. “This is what I dream of. Now 1 am the happiest woman in the world.”

“I haven’t said I will, Grand’mere.”

She drew back and stared at me in amazement. “What?”

“Well, it was so unexpected. I…”

“You mean you refused him!”

“Well, not exactly.”

Her relief was immense.

“I was just so surprised.”

“It doesn’t surprise me. Why, you were meant for each other.”

“But I am only seventeen, Grand’mere. I feel I haven’t lived long enough.”

“I know … and I’m old enough. He is a good young man. He will be a good husband. He has a purpose in life. I have prayed to God and the saints every night for this. What did you tell him?”

“He offered me a ring. …”

She clasped her hands, smiling.

”He put it on my finger, but I couldn’t… It was too soon.”

“No, no. It is the right timing. Your birthday! What could be more romantic? Oh, Lenore, you are not going to be foolish, are you? If you turn away from him you will regret it all your life.”

“I cannot be sure. …”

”I can and I know what is best. Lenore, I beg of you, do not he foolish over this. You will never find one so good … so worthy. I know. I have seen much of the world.”

“I want to forget it. He will be here soon and so will Cassie.”

That evening stands out in my memory. There were just the four of us—myself, Grand’mere, Cassie and Philip—and that was enough.

How we talked! I thought of it afterwards, and how Philip’s eyes were constantly meeting mine, and his were so loving and tender. I felt cherished and so happy to be with those who loved me dearly.

Philip talked a great deal about Villers-Mure which enchanted Grand’mere. He had been deeply impressed with the place and not only with the production of silk. Grand’mere listened intently, now and then joining in. I could see she was back in her childhood. Cassie sat silently clasping her hands about her knees gazing from one to the other of us and now and then sparing a glance for the dummies as though she really believed that they were part of the company. She was a fanciful girl, Cassie, and so glad to be included in our little circle.

Philip was saying that Villers-Mure was almost more Italian than French.

“That is how it is with places on the border,” said Grand’mere. “There were many Italians there and we were so near. There was bound to be some Italian blood among us, though we were under the French flag.”

“There is a strong feeling for music there,” went on Philip, “and I feel that came from Italy. Do you know, one could hear them singing in the fields and some of them had magnificent voices. It was often Italian opera. I remember once standing spellbound for a rendering of La Donna e mobile; and on another occasion I heard two singing a duet from Trovatore.” He began to sing himself: Ai nostri monti ritorneremo. We applauded and he said: ‘ ‘You should have heard that as I did in the open air.”

“Oh yes,” said Grand’mere. “They loved the music. They loved to sing and dance.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” said Philip. “They are light-hearted and merry, but very quick to anger I might say over something quite trivial. They can be really murderous. And then there is the French element … the realists versus the romantics. I can’t tell you how fascinating I found it apart from their methods in the workroom.”

“Was Monsieur St. Allengere frank with you?” asked Grand’mere.

Philip laughed. “Up to a point. They are naturally not prepared to give away secrets. I wonder what they think now that we have discovered Sallon Silk.”

“Would they know about it?” I asked.

“Know of it? The whole world knows of it. It’s a major breakthrough in manufacture. I expect they are grinding their teeth in fury because they didn’t think of it first.”

“What a good thing you patented it,” I said.

“They’ll get round that in some way, no doubt,” said Grand’mere. “But we got there first and that is the big advantage.”

Philip was thoughtful. “The most puzzling thing is that it should have been Charles.”