Women have Hearts Read online

  For a moment she ceased to breathe.

  Then, as if she knew what he was thinking without words, she felt herself give a sudden gasp.

  It could not be true.

  He could not be thinking what she thought he was thinking, she told herself as they rode on.

  And yet she knew unmistakably what had been in his mind at that particular moment.

  Chapter Five

  Seeing the Governor-General draw Yvette to the other side of the long Reception room in a somewhat obvious fashion, Kelda knew that this was what they had been expecting.

  Lord Orsett continued to talk to her as if nothing unusual was happening and so she was aware that she must concentrate on him and answer him intelligently.

  She would have been far more apprehensive had she not known that in what was a risky yet clever way Rémy had sent Yvette another note.

  When the Governor-General had arrived, Lord Orsett had met him at the front door and brought him into the Reception room.

  He came in carrying in his hand a really magnificent bouquet of orchids that on any other occasion would have been a gift to delight the recipient.

  Kelda was well aware, however, that Yvette was nervous and apprehensive as to what the evening would produce and was longing irrepressibly for some further communication from Rémy.

  As the Governor-General advanced at Lord Orsett’s side, Kelda remembered that Rémy had told Yvette that somebody would give her flowers and she should handle them carefully.

  She had not believed it in any way possible that he would be so daring as to hide a note in the bouquet that the Governor-General was himself presenting to the girl who he thought would be his future wife.

  Then Kelda told herself that perhaps there was no other way that it was possible to carry a note secretly into Lord Orsett’s household.

  She wished that she could say something to Yvette and warn her to be careful.

  Then, as the Governor-General greeted Yvette and presented her with the bouquet, Kelda was alert.

  “I also have a present for you, Miss Lawrence,” he said and handed her a small box tied with ribbon, which she was sure contained chocolates.

  “How very kind of you to think of me, Your Excellency.”

  There was a little pause while the Governor-General looked at Yvette and automatically she said,

  “The flowers are lovely. I am very grateful.”

  “I will put them in water,” Kelda suggested. “As they are so beautiful, we must make them last as long as possible.”

  She took the bouquet from Yvette as she spoke.

  “A servant can do that,” Lord Orsett chimed in.

  Kelda smiled at him.

  “I confess to having forgotten my handkerchief,” she said, “so I will give instructions to the maids when I go upstairs. I know Yvette will want these flowers in her bedroom.”

  Before Lord Orsett could protest further, she hurried from the Reception room and ran across the hall and up the stairs to her bedroom.

  As soon as she had closed the door, she searched the bouquet and found that there was a very wide ribbon holding the stems of the orchids together.

  It took her a few seconds to undo it and she discovered, as she had expected, that there was a piece of paper under it also wrapped around the stems.

  She hastily hid it in her drawer, picked up a handkerchief and called for one of the maids who was outside to put the flowers in water.

  Then she ran downstairs again knowing that anything that happened this evening was of little consequence.

  All that mattered were the instructions that she was sure were written in the note that the Governor-General had unknowingly delivered.

  It was even amusing that all unawares he had been the messenger of love. She longed to tell Yvette what she had discovered, but knew that it was too dangerous.

  Only when they left the dining room walking ahead with the gentlemen behind them did Kelda manage to say to Yvette in a low voice,

  “The flowers that His Excellency brought you are exactly what you needed!”

  She saw Yvette’s eyes light up as she looked at her and, as she smiled a wordless reply, Kelda saw a radiance sweep over Yvette’s face almost like the sun rising over the horizon.

  Kelda recognised that the knowledge of Rémy’s note waiting for her up the stairs would make it easier for her to play her part when, as she suspected, the Governor-General would declare his intentions and she would have to make some sort of answer to him.

  “You asked me about my carvings,” Lord Orsett was saying, “and there are two in this room that I think are some of the finest examples I have found anywhere.”

  As he spoke, he walked across to a cabinet where the carvings were displayed and then pointed out the terracotta head of a man.

  “This is thirteenth century,” he said, “and comes from Nigeria.”

  “It is beautiful,” Kelda exclaimed.

  “Do you really think so? Or are you just saying it just because you think it is polite?”

  “I am telling the truth,” Kelda replied, “and I think the ivory carving is beautiful too.”

  “It is a pectoral mask,” Lord Orsett explained.

  Kelda looked at them both for some moments and then she said,

  “I would be interested to know who they portrayed, but I suppose as they are so old that is impossible.”

  “I imagine it is one of their Chiefs or war leaders,” Lord Orsett replied, “and like poetry, the carvings are in praise of him.”

  Kelda looked at him for more information and he said,

  “I thought you might know that the praise name is the most widely used poetic form in Africa. It is applied not only to Gods but to men, animals and plants.”

  “How exciting!” Kelda exclaimed and she really meant it.

  “I presume you are aware,” he said, “that poetry in Africa exists almost exclusively in chanted form or as a song.”

  “I did not know that, but I can well understand the Africans finding it easier to express themselves to music more than in any other way.”

  She looked at the terracotta head again with its fine features, its thick-lipped mouth and what she felt had been intelligent eyes when the man from whom it had been modelled had been alive.

  Because she was so entranced by its appearance she said almost as if she was speaking to her father,

  “Recite me a poem, my Lord, and tell me the sort of praise name that would have been written about a man like this.”

  Even as she spoke she thought that he was rather surprised, but obligingly Lord Orsett answered,

  “I have recently translated one that was written of the great Zulu Chieftain, Shaka, but I will not bore you with more than a few lines.”

  He paused and then recited in his deep voice,

  “He is Shaka, the unshakable,

  Thunderer – while sitting, Son of Menzi,

  He is the bird that preys on other birds,

  The battleaxe that excels over other battleaxes.”

  “This is fascinating,” Kelda enthused. “But you say it is very long?”

  “It goes on for quite a number of pages in my book,” Lord Orsett replied with a smile. “Ijaba, the hunters’ songs, usually take as long as the hunts themselves.”

  Kelda laughed and then she looked round to see that Yvette was coming towards them from the other end of the room.

  She was not looking particularly agitated, but Kelda thought that the Governor-General had a smile of satisfaction on his lips.

  “I think I should be leaving now,” he said to Lord Orsett, “but I have plans for a large dinner party at The Palace the day after tomorrow.”

  “I am sure it will be delightful,” Lord Orsett observed.

  Kelda saw the sharp glance he gave to Yvette and she was sure that he was wondering whether the dinner party was to be the occasion at which her engagement to the Governor-General would be announced.

  The Governor-General held out his
hand to Yvette.

  “Au revoir, Yvette,” he said. “I shall count the hours until we meet again.”

  Kelda heard the emotion in his voice and was aware that he had called Yvette by her Christian name for the first time.

  What was more, after looking at her for a long moment, he raised her hand to his lips.

  She realised that Yvette gave a little shiver at the touch of his lips, but she thought it was almost imperceptible and hoped that Lord Orsett had not noticed.

  The Governor-General then turned to her.

  “Au revoir, Mademoiselle Lawrence.”

  “Au revoir, Your Excellency, and thank you for your present. It is very kind of you.”

  “It is my pleasure,” the Governor-General said automatically.

  He walked from the room with Lord Orsett beside him and only when they were out of hearing did Yvette ask in a whisper,

  “There is a letter from Rémy?”

  “Yes,” Kelda replied, “it is upstairs in my bedroom.”

  Although she was afraid that they might be overheard, she asked,

  “What did His Excellency say to you?”

  “What do you expect he would say?” Yvette replied. “He paid me fulsome compliments and hoped we would be very happy together when we were married at the end of the month.”

  “What did you reply to him?”

  “I replied that it had all been a great surprise to me and, although I was deeply honoured, I hoped that he would give me time to become accustomed to the idea of being married, especially to someone so distinguished.”

  Kelda gave a little laugh.

  “That was clever of you.”

  “I tried to think that it was not me who was speaking,” Yvette said, “but some woman in a play, a play that must end happily,”

  “It will,” Kelda said confidently.

  It seemed a long time before they could say ‘goodnight’ to Lord Orsett and go upstairs, but as they did and Kelda thought it was rather tactless of him, he said to Yvette,

  “I understand you have made my friend His Excellency an extremely happy man. I am delighted that you have seen sense and I must commend you on your behaviour this evening and last night when we dined at The Palace.”

  “I am relieved to hear that you are pleased with me, Uncle Maximus,” Yvette answered demurely.

  Kelda suddenly had the idea that Lord Orsett was going to refer to Rémy and say he was relieved that what he had called ‘a shipboard romance’ was over and finished.

  Because she did not dare to trust Yvette’s reactions to this, she said quickly,

  “I think, my Lord, as we are both tired and somewhat stiff from riding this morning, it would be wise for us to get our beauty sleep.”

  “I am sure you are right, Miss Lawrence,” Lord Orsett replied. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, my Lord.”

  “Goodnight, Yvette,” Lord Orsett said, “and I think you are growing to appreciate the attractiveness of Senegal. As it is to be your future home, there is a great deal more I want to show you. Perhaps tomorrow morning you will feel well enough to ride a little further than we did today.”

  “That would be delightful,” Yvette answered. “Goodnight, Uncle Maximus.”

  She turned away with an eagerness that was irrepressible and because she was moving so fast Kelda slipped her arm through hers to force her to go more slowly.

  She had a feeling that Lord Orsett might be more perceptive than they gave him credit for and he might remember and think it strange that she had taken Yvette’s bouquet from the room herself rather than order a servant to do so.

  “Be careful,” she warned Yvette under her breath and then said aloud,

  “I personally am feeling very stiff. You will have to help me up the stairs now as if I was an old woman.”

  “It will wear off by tomorrow morning,” Yvette commented.

  “I hope so,” Kelda replied.

  They were both aware that Lord Orsett could hear what they were saying but they did not look back and continued slowly up the stairs and along the corridor that led to their rooms.

  The maids were waiting and Yvette had to be patient until finally they had withdrawn and they were alone.

  Then she ran through the communicating doorway to Kelda’s room to ask,

  “Where is it? Show me! Quickly, quickly! I shall go mad if I have to wait one second more.”

  “I know what you are feeling,” Kelda replied, “but, dearest, you must be so careful.”

  She opened her drawer and then found the letter where she had hidden it and put it into Yvette’s hand.

  “Oh, Rémy, Rémy, I love you!” Yvette cried and kissed the paper before she opened it.

  She flung herself down on Kelda’s bed and, when she had read only half of what Rémy had written, she looked up, her eyes shining like stars, to say,

  “Tomorrow! We are leaving tomorrow!”

  “I cannot believe it.” Kelda gasped. “But how? Tell me how?”

  “It is all here,” Yvette said. “Let me read it to you.”

  She sat up holding the letter in her hand and for a moment she seemed so excited that it was impossible to translate what her eyes read into words.

  Then she began,

  “I love you, my dearest heart, and I know that it is imperative that we leave immediately before things become more involved and more difficult than they are at the moment.

  I am well aware that I am taking a grave risk in sending this letter with the flowers that His Excellency will carry to you personally.

  The only servant I can trust in the whole place has the task of arranging them for you and he has told me it would not be safe to try to bribe any one in his Lordship’s household. There is nothing I can do therefore except pray that this will reach you.

  What I have arranged, and everything depends on you, is that we shall leave Dakar early tomorrow morning in an English ship that is travelling directly from here to Cape Town.

  We shall be safe once we go aboard because the French will have no jurisdiction over an English ship. We can be married at sea by the Captain and then you will be my wife. And, as it will be a long time before we find our way back to France, it will be impossible for Lord Orsett, or anyone else, to undo what has actually been done.”

  Yvette gave a little sigh of happiness.

  “What he means is that it will be impossible for them to say that the marriage was null and void because I have not had my Guardian’s permission. And by that time I might easily be having a baby!”

  Kelda was surprised at the way she reasoned it out, but she waited for the next part of the letter, wondering how Rémy was going to arrange Yvette’s departure from the house.

  “He then writes a lot of very loving things about what he will feel once we are married, but this is the important part – ”

  She read on,

  “As I have ascertained for, as you can imagine everything one does is known in Dakar, your uncle goes riding every morning and today you and Kelda went with him. Tomorrow he will doubtless leave at the same time, seven o’clock, but you must be unwell and Kelda will go with him alone.

  The moment that they have left and from some place of concealment I shall be watching them ride away.

  I will then arrive at the house with a carriage to tell the head servant that the Governor-General has been informed that one of your relatives is dangerous ill and you have to leave immediately for France.

  You must be absolutely ready and join me the moment I step into the hall. We will then rush to the quay and board the ship a few minutes before she sails at seven-thirty.”

  Kelda gave a little gasp and Yvette sighed,

  “Can anyone be as clever as Rémy? You do see that the servants will be too bemused to do anything but what he says? And we shall be far away from Dakar before you and Uncle Maximus return from riding.”

  “It sounds as if it might work,” Kelda reflected. “What about clothes?”

  “C
lothes!” Yvette exclaimed.

  Then she threw up her hands saying,

  “Of course! Rémy has forgotten about them! How can I go to Cape Town with nothing but what I stand up in?”

  Kelda did not reply and after a moment she said,

  “But nothing matters. I will go naked if it means I can marry Rémy and never see the Governor-General or Uncle Maximus again.”

  “Wait a minute,” Kelda suggested. “I have an idea.”

  “What is it?”

  “We can hardly ask for a trunk to be brought to our rooms. It would certainly seem very strange and your uncle might be told about it, but there is nothing to stop you being extremely unconventional and taking your clothes with you wrapped up in sheets.”

  Yvette stared at her for a moment in a bewildered fashion and then she gave a little cry of joy.

  “Oh, Kelda! Kelda! You are so clever. Of course I can do that. The servants will think it odd, but it does not matter what they think. We will have everything ready here and just as Rémy is watching you ride away from the outside of the house, I will watch from the inside. Then I will make the maids carry down the bundles and we will take them with us in the carriage.”

  Kelda and Yvette rose to their feet and then Kelda had another idea.

  “We have to convince Lord Orsett that you are not well enough to go out riding. It would therefore be wisest when the maid comes to call you that you should be in bed. So we must use my sheets and not yours.”

  “Do you really think if they thought I was pretending to be ill or tired, they would tell Uncle Maximus?”

  “It would certainly be taking chances,” Kelda said. “You have no idea whether or not he is spying on you and it would be a mistake to underestimate his intelligence.”

  She paused for a moment concentrating with a little frown between her eyes before she said,

  “He is certainly surprised at your being so sensible and since that first night you have made no mention of Rémy even though you claimed that you were engaged to him.”

  “We have been banking on his not knowing much about women,” Yvette remarked.

  “He is still a very intelligent man,” Kelda answered. “He is not as suspicious as he was, but I cannot believe that he does not think it curious that you have accepted the Governor-General’s proposal without a protest and without even suggesting that the marriage should be delayed for a further month or so.”