Signpost To Love Read online

  “I would have been content to see him occasionally, but the truth was that he could not afford to keep me.”

  She saw the surprise in the Earl’s expression and explained,

  “The de Saucornes are not rich and I had therefore taken as little money from Jacques as possible. But, of course, his family believed that he was giving me a great deal more than he could afford. I also wanted him to be happy and his wife is very charming.”

  “So you sacrificed yourself for him!”

  “He had given me so much already. How could I ask for more?” Lady Dunsford replied.

  It was the sort of answer, the Earl thought, that Baptista might have given, but aloud he asked,

  “What happened next?”

  “I was wondering what I could do and how I could live without money and without taking any more from Jacques, when the Duc de Gramont came into my life. He has been very kind to me, he is fond of me and I shall always be grateful to him.”

  “But you are not prepared to give a home to Baptista?”

  “It is not a question of that,” Lady Dunsford said quickly. “There are two very good reasons why I cannot have her with me.”

  “What are they?”

  “The first is that I have no money.”

  She saw the surprise in the Earl’s face and continued,

  “I have already explained that I would not take anything more than was necessary from Jacques and I will not allow the Duc to give me anything but this house and servants to look after me.”

  She gave the Earl a rather pathetic smile as she added,

  “You may think it is straining at a straw, but because I will not take money or jewellery from him, I feel that I am not exactly the same as the grandes cocottes with whom Paris abounds.”

  The Earl thought that this was the truth and he was sure that a man like the Duc, who had doubtless kept a number of mistresses over the years, would appreciate her fastidiousness.

  “That is the first reason why Baptista and I cannot be together,” Lady Dunsford said, “but there is another.”

  “What is that?”

  “It is that I have fallen really in love for the first time in my life and it is very different from anything I have ever known before!”

  There was a note in her voice now that told the Earl she was speaking with a deep sincerity and she went on,

  “The Emperor, as doubtless you know, is ill, and the French doctors have been unable to cure him. He therefore asked one of the most famous Swiss surgeons to visit him and, while he was in Paris, he also examined the Duc.”

  Lady Dunsford’s face seemed suddenly radiant as she added,

  “The moment I saw him I knew that he was the man of my dreams and someone I prayed I might meet.”

  “Who is he?” the Earl enquired.

  “His name is Otto Atter.”

  “I don’t think I have heard of him.”

  “There is no reason why you should, but the medical world respects and admires him.”

  “And he loves you?”

  “He has never married because he says that he has always been looking for me and was sure I existed somewhere in the world if he could find me. It is a miracle now that he has and we may have a little time together.”

  “What do you mean by that?” the Earl asked.

  “Otto examined not only the Duc but also me,” Lady Dunsford answered, “and I have something wrong with my lung. He has said for the moment it is not very bad, but as you may be aware, consumption is something that spreads very rapidly and there is no known cure.”

  “I am sorry,” the Earl said gently.

  “What we have decided to do, Otto and I, is to leave Paris next week and he has arranged to make an extensive tour of Africa, moving down the West coast to the South. He will travel as a medical man and I ostensibly will be his wife.”

  “Does he think that will help your state of health?”

  “He believes that the sunshine and the heat might cure or prevent it becoming any worse,” Lady Dunsford answered, “but, as he says himself, it’s a gamble and he cannot anticipate what the result will be.”

  She gave a deep sigh.

  “Even if we can be together for a little while before I die, I shall thank God every day and every minute that I have been privileged to know such happiness with such a marvellous man.”

  There was silence for a moment and then she added,

  “You will understand that I cannot take Baptista with me, nor could I allow her to come in contact with me because consumption is known to be infectious.”

  “I know that,” the Earl said, “but what am I to do with her?”

  “That is a very difficult question,” Lady Dunsford agreed, “but I may have a solution.”

  “What is it?”

  “There is a lady who lives in Rome, who was actually a friend of my mother’s, so I have known her all my life. She is old, but I am sure that she would look after Baptista and perhaps find her a suitable husband.”

  She saw the Earl’s lips tighten and she said quickly,

  “It is not ideal, but it’s the only suggestion I can make and at least her father is unlikely to find her if she is living in Italy.”

  She paused before she added,

  “She must also get away from France as quickly as possible!”

  The Earl looked surprised.

  “Why should you say that?”

  “Because,” Lady Dunsford replied, “I am sure there will be war!”

  “War?”

  The Earl was immediately interested in a different way from what he had been before.

  “Why should you say that?” he asked.

  The Duc believes that Prussia is a constant menace to French expansion and a united Germany is a threat that cannot be ignored.”

  “But surely the French people do not wish to fight?” the Earl asked. “They have lost against the Germans in the past and they may easily do so again.”

  “That is what I have said,” Lady Dunsford agreed, “but the Duc will not listen. He loathes Count Bismarck and he wants the glory of humiliating the Prussians.”

  “I should have thought that that point of view was very dangerous.”

  “Of course it is. Otto tells me that when he was in Germany he saw King William of Prussia, who consulted him medically and he was certain that His Majesty did not want war. In fact, when they were talking, he assured Otto that no one wanted it less than he did.”

  “But you still think that the French will try to pick a fight?” the Earl asked.

  “Otto says, and he is very astute in these matters, that the Emperor is being pushed into it by the Duc and the Empress, and King William is being pushed by Bismarck.”

  Lady Dunsford made an exasperated little sound before she said,

  “How can they be so stupid? I cannot bear to think of the young men who will be killed for no reason but the obstinacy and pride of those in command.”

  The Earl knew that she was speaking of the Duc and she went on,

  “Otto is sure that Count Bismarck has decided that war with France will cement the German Federation.”

  “And the French?”

  Lady Dunsford looked over her shoulder almost as if she was afraid that somebody was listening before she said,

  The Duc will not understand that the French Army is all dash and flag-wagging and hopelessly unprepared for modern warfare.”

  “You are sure of this?”

  “I have heard people discussing it with him over the dinner table and Otto has told me of the conversation he has had with the Ministers of War. He has had the chance of studying the state of the Armies in both countries.”

  She paused before she said,

  “I know, in fact I am sure, that war will be a tragedy for the French and yet I feel that no one will be able to prevent it.”

  It struck the Earl that this was just the sort of information that the Prime Minister had wanted.

  He knew that no one was better ab
le to ascertain the truth than a woman who had sat night after night listening to the arguments round the dinner table when Statesmen would talk freely in front of her, because as the Duc’s mistress she was of no social importance.

  “I am grateful for what you have told me,” he said aloud.

  “If the English can do anything to prevent the French from throwing away all they have gained at Sebastopol and Solferino, then they will do a great service to Europe,” Lady Dunsford said, “but I have a feeling that the Emperor will listen to no one but the Empress, who keeps telling him that he should take command of his own Armies.”

  “I thought he was ill.”

  “He is,” Lady Dunsford replied, “very ill and Otto is sure that he will get worse”

  The Earl had already been told by the Vicomte that the Emperor had a stone in his bladder and found it difficult, if not impossible, to ride.

  It was absurd to think in the circumstances that he could assume command of the French, but he thought that the Empress would sweep aside such mundane considerations when all she wanted was the glorification of herself and her Court.

  Lady Dunsford rose to her feet.

  “What I am going to do now, my Lord,” she said, “is to write a letter to the Contessa di Colonna, my friend in Rome, and ask you to be kind enough to see, somehow, that Baptista reaches her.”

  She gave him a look out of her blue eyes as she walked towards her secretaire that told the Earl that she was asking him silently to take Baptista there himself.

  Then, as she sat down, she said,

  “I have made my will, my Lord. I made it three weeks ago when Otto told me the truth about my expectation of life. As you may not be aware, I have a great deal of money in England, but it is, of course, until I am dead administered by my husband.”

  “You have left it to Baptista?” the Earl asked.

  “Of course,” Lady Dunsford replied, “and she also has money of her own, but she will only be allowed to touch it on my husband’s death or if she marries.”

  She drew out an official-looking envelope from a drawer in the secretaire and laid it on the table while she wrote the letter.

  The Earl, who had risen when she did, stood with his back to the mantelpiece thinking that Baptista’s mother was not in the least what he had expected.

  Yet he told himself he might have known that she would in her own way have been as good, gentle and sweet as her husband was cruel, mad and wicked.

  He could understand that it would be impossible for Baptista to be with her mother and, as if she knew that he was thinking of her daughter, Lady Dunsford turned her head to ask,

  “What will you tell Baptista?”

  “I was just wondering about that.”

  “I would rather you did not lie and say that I am dead. Besides, it might distress her.”

  Then what shall I say?” the Earl asked.

  “Tell her that I am in Africa – where indeed I shall be very shortly – and that when I return you are sure that I will wish to get in touch with her.”

  There was a sob in her voice as she said,

  “That is – true. If I am alive I shall somehow contrive to see Baptista as long as it will not harm her in any way.”

  “She loves you,” the Earl said simply.

  “And I love her,” Lady Dunsford replied, “and I shall never forgive myself that she has suffered on my account.”

  “Forget it,” the Earl said in the same way that he might have spoken to Baptista. “It is over now and, as long as her father does not find her, she can be free to enjoy life, which I assure you she is doing at the moment.”

  “She was very very fortunate to find you,” Lady Dunsford said softly.

  She finished the letter and rose from the secretaire to carry it and her will to the Earl’s side.

  She held them out and the Earl took them from her and put them in the inside pocket of his coat.

  “Tell me what Baptista – looks like?” she asked.

  “I imagine that she looks exactly as you did at the same age,” the Earl answered, “and she is, in fact, very beautiful,”

  “Then please, please, my Lord, take care of her until she is with my friend the Contessa di Colonna in Rome.”

  Her blue eyes looked up at the Earl pleadingly as she said,

  “There is nothing more I can do for Baptista except pray that she will marry somebody she loves and not know the agony of a marriage such as I endured.”

  “I am sure that will not happen to Baptista,” the Earl said, “and I am glad that you have found happiness.”

  “Great happiness!” Lady Dunsford replied. “And I only pray that I can make Otto feel that the sacrifices he is making for me are worthwhile.”

  “I am sure he will think so,” the Earl said gently. “I wish you both every happiness.”

  He put out his hand as he spoke and Lady Dunsford took it in both hers.

  “You will take care of Baptista until she is safely in Rome? Or, if that is asking too much, please send somebody with her who can be trusted.”

  “I promise you that she will be looked after,” the Earl answered.

  He saw the anxiety fade from Lady Dunsford’s eyes.

  “As I have already said, Baptista was very lucky to find you,” she murmured, “but please forgive me if I express a mother’s anxiety and beg you – not to – break her – heart.”

  The Earl must have looked surprised for Lady Dunsford added quickly,

  “That may sound an impertinence, my Lord, but your friend the Vicomte has often spoken of you and told me how many attractive women there are in your life. Baptista is still only a – baby.”

  “That is true,” the Earl said, “and so I am treating her as if she was my niece.”

  He knew as he spoke that this was not strictly true.

  It was very unlikely that he would have taken any niece of his out dancing alone last night, nor would his niece have kissed his hand, as Baptista had done, when they said goodnight.

  “There is nothing I can say but thank you,” Lady Dunsford said, “but the words come from the very depths of my heart.”

  The Earl, as he walked from the salon, knew that there were tears in her eyes and he felt that she was not only saying goodbye to him but also to her daughter, whom she dared not see.

  The Vicomte’s carriage drove him back to the house in the Champs Élysées.

  He had left Baptista inspecting the books in the library, determined to read some of the new novels that she had found there.

  “Here are two by Gustave Flaubert!” she had cried. “I have read reviews of them in the newspapers, but, of course, I had no chance of reading them while I was with Papa.”

  “I am not sure you should read them now,” the Earl said. “They are certainly not suitable for a jeune fille.”

  “I am not that sort of jeune fille,” Baptista replied with truth, “and I have every intention of reading all the French novelists while I have the chance.”

  The Earl made a gesture with his hand.

  “I think you will soon outstay your welcome!” he smiled.

  “When I am with Mama, we will read aloud to each other as we did before she left home,” Baptista retorted. “I am quite certain that she will enjoy Gustave Flaubert as well as Alexandra Dumas or perhaps even George Sand.”

  Then before the Earl could reply she had put down the book she held in her hands and said,

  “But if you gave me the choice I would much rather be dancing the polka with you than reading any book however naughty and exciting!”

  The Earl put his fingers to his lips.

  “Keep your voice low,” he admonished. “I have told our host that we went for a drive to see the lights of Paris and then, as I was tired I went to bed instead of joining him, as he had expected, at a party.”

  “What sort of party?” Baptista asked curiously.

  “The sort of party you will never attend,” the Earl replied, knowing it would tease her.


  “It is unfair that men should have all the fun!” Baptista protested. “I expect the ladies at that sort of party would be very beautiful, very glamorous and very very witty. What have I to offer you? How could I compete?”

  “I had no idea that was what you intended to do,” the Earl replied, “and let me explain to you, Baptista, that there are two categories of women in this world, the first are those you describe as ‘lovely ladies’, but whom your father would condemn as the servants of Satan.”

  He paused to say more slowly,

  “The second category is those women like yourself who, because they are good and pure, can inspire men to the greatest heights of which their natures are capable.”

  As he spoke the Earl was surprised at himself.

  The words had come to his tongue, but he could never remember speaking before in such a way to any woman.

  There was silence.

  Then Baptista said,

  “And which – do you – like the most?”

  “The women in the first category will never know love as you will know it.”

  “Is that – true?”

  “I promise you I am speaking the truth.”

  “Papa said – ”

  “Forget what your father said!” the Earl interrupted. “His whole attitude to women and everything else is distorted and you must be aware, Baptista, that since he is not sane there is no point in your remembering anything he ever said to you.”

  “And the good women – such as you say I am – are – loved?” Baptista asked.

  “They are a man’s ideal,” the Earl replied, “and, because that is what they exemplify, when he meets one he asks her to become his wife and the mother of his children.”

  Baptista thought this over before she said,

  “Now I understand and I promise you that I will try not only to be good – but to be an – inspiration to the man I – love.”

  Thinking over what she had said, the Earl told himself that it was significant that she had said, ‘the man I love,’ not, ‘the man I will love’.

  ‘If she thinks herself in love with me,’ he said to himself, ‘she will be deeply hurt when I have to leave her and that might mean that she will get into trouble in Rome, especially amongst those over-amorous Italians.’

  The idea of Baptista trying to console herself with them and falling into even worse danger than she had been in already, brought a frown between the Earl’s eyes and made him feel unusually aggressive as the carriage came to a stop.