Women have Hearts Read online

  “I suppose I should get up now,” she said almost to herself as if she half-hoped that there would be no need and she could stay here alone and not have to see the man who was now her husband.

  “Dinner is at eight o’clock, madame,” the maid said, “and Monsieur does not like to be kept waiting.”

  The maid’s words, spoken in halting French made Kelda climb wearily out of bed.

  Her bath was cool and refreshing and she washed her face in cold water in the hope that it would erase any signs of her tears.

  Then she told herself that he would not notice it anyway after the rude manner in which she had run away and he would have gone in search of Antoinette to console him.

  Doubtless they would spend their time together in the part of the house that was private to him and he would think how beautiful she was and she would amuse him and make him laugh.

  Then Kelda told herself severely that she should not be thinking of Antoinette. That was the secret side of Lord Orsett’s life which even as his wife she could not encroach on.

  Now she could understand why he had been content to stay for so long in Africa and not return to England.

  His relatives had thought that it was just because he was a recluse, but would a man have need of any other companionship when he could have somebody as beautiful as Antoinette, as Kelda made herself face the word, his mistress?”

  Because she had lived such a cloistered and sheltered life since her father and mother had died, she had not come into contact with men, nor had there been anybody to talk to her about their ways or what they thought and felt about women.

  She knew only the snatches of conversation she overheard from the giggling schoolgirls or what she read in the books that she borrowed from the classrooms and which very seldom dealt with anything to do with love.

  What she had learned in travelling with her father and mother was very little, but she was aware that the men of many African tribes had four or more wives and the Sultan of Turkey enjoyed a large harem of lovely women.

  It had all seemed rather unreal and not translatable into flesh and blood.

  But now she had seen Antoinette and she understood, she thought, that a man would find such a beautiful woman irresistible and that she should now try to compete with her for Lord Orsett’s affections was out of the question.

  When she had dried herself after her bath and put on the few underclothes that it was necessary to wear in the evenings, her maid said.

  “As Madame is a bride, she must wear a white gown this evening.”

  “I don’t think I have one,” Kelda replied automatically and she thought as she spoke that she felt very unlike a bride and the dark cloud of despair still hung over her.

  Her eyes too felt heavy from crying and she knew that she had no wish to go downstairs and meet Lord Orsett again, feeling that he would be condemning her for her behaviour.

  ‘What does it matter if he does?’ Kelda asked herself crossly. ‘Everything I have done is wrong to him. He will never really forgive me for helping Yvette to escape and he made it quite clear that I should marry the Governor-General rather than him.’

  Nevertheless, when her maid brought from the wardrobe a gown that had been Yvette’s, she was mildly interested.

  It was a ball gown of white satin covered in tulle and sprinkled with diamanté, which she remembered now Yvette had said was too voluminous to pack.

  “There is no room for it,” she said petulantly, when Kelda had pointed out that it was still hanging in the wardrobe. “Besides I have never liked myself in dead white.”

  It certainly did not become her as the bright colours she usually wore, Kelda thought, but when the maid fastened her into the white gown she knew she looked different from how she had ever looked before. Wearing the lovely gown and with her shoulders swathed in white tulle and the diamanté sparkled with every move she made, she looked bridal.

  The bodice was somewhat tight and her waist looked tiny above the swirling skirts and the maid arranged her hair in a fashionable style on top of her head and then, looking at her reflection in the mirror, she said,

  “Attendez un moment, madame,” and ran from the room.

  Kelda wondered what she was doing and, as when she returned a few seconds later with two white camellias in her hand, she understood.

  The maid arranged them on top of her head and it seemed to complete the elegance of the gown although she knew that Yvette would doubtless have worn diamonds.

  “Madame est très belle!” the maid exclaimed several times and Kelda forced a smile in response.

  Only as she went downstairs feeling rather self-conscious did she wonder if perhaps Lord Orsett would be amused at her for dressing up in such an elaborate manner. He might even think it pretentious of her when their marriage was so far from normal.

  As Kelda reached the hall, she had an impulse to run upstairs again and put on one of the gowns she had worn before.

  Then, as the head servant came forward, she knew that she was in fact almost late since it was only a minute or two to eight o’clock and Lord Orsett disliked being kept waiting. She therefore followed the servant who led her to a Reception room, where he was waiting.

  He too looked very elegant in his evening clothes, Kelda thought, but, if he did notice anything strange about her appearance, he did not say so.

  Instead, as she walked towards him, he picked up a glass of champagne from a side table and gave it into her hand.

  “I hear you have been asleep.”

  “I am – sorry if it was – inconvenient.”

  “It was very sensible,” he contradicted her. “I realise that you had very little sleep last night.”

  She thought that he must be angry because by now the servants would have told him that Yvette had taken most of her clothes with her and they had packed them up in his sheets. But he spoke almost as if he was amused and went on,

  “There is nothing more fatiguing than dramatic or unexpected situations, at least that is what I have always found.”

  He was, Kelda thought, trying to dispel any awkwardness that might exist between them due to Antoinette’s appearance and her own outburst.

  Because it was impossible for her not to be responsive in the circumstances she said with a wavering little smile,

  “I-I am sorry I could not come – driving as I think – we planned.”

  “It was better for you to sleep,” Lord Orsett replied, “and you missed accompanying me to The Palace, a visit that was slightly uncomfortable.”

  He was speaking lightly and Kelda looked at him in surprise.

  “His Excellency was extremely disappointed,” he said in reply to her unspoken question, “but he congratulated me warmly and wishes to give a large dinner in our honour as soon as you feel that you can face such a gastronomic exercise.”

  Kelda gave a little laugh as he had obviously intended for her to do and then dinner was announced and they walked into the dining room.

  As she entered the room, Kelda stood still in amazement.

  The last thing she had expected was any kind of celebration of their marriage, but the room had been transformed with garlands of white flowers hanging from the walls and great banks of them arranged in the corners of the room.

  The table was all white with the same camellias as she was wearing in her hair and on another table at the far end of the room was a large and elaborate Wedding cake.

  It was all so unexpected and at the same time, for someone who had never been given a celebration of any sort in her life, an irrepressible excitement.

  “H-how – could you – think of it? How could you do anything so – marvellous?” Kelda stammered

  “I hoped you would like it,” Lord Orsett said simply.

  “Of course I like it,” she replied. “But – the cake – how could one have been baked so quickly?”

  “I have to admit that was bought and my chef has lost face in consequence,” Lord Orsett smiled. “But he is completely d
etermined to hold his own by producing a dinner that, if we eat everything he has prepared, will strain our capacity to its utmost point of endurance.”

  Kelda was listening and looking around with the excitement of a small child at its first pantomime.

  Flowers scented the room and from the candelabra entwined with flowers the candles cast a golden light that made everything seem to have a magic she had never known before.

  “Y-you did this for – me ? Really – for me?” she asked beneath her breath as if she still could not believe that it had not been meant for somebody else.

  “I am trying to make up for the somewhat banal Service that took place in front of the Mayor. I believe that every woman, when she is married, wants a Cathedral, a choir and at least ten bridesmaids!”

  Kelda gave a little laugh.

  “I don’t know one person I could ask to be my – bridesmaid.”

  As soon as she spoke, she thought that it was the sort of Wedding Lord Orsett must have had when he had been married to Yvette’s aunt.

  In thinking of Antoinette she had forgotten that he had been married before and his wife had died.

  Had he loved her desperately? she wondered now. Was that perhaps why he looked so cynical and why at first he had shut himself away from the world?

  Perhaps then he had sworn that he would never love again and had never found a woman who could equal in any way the Frenchwoman who had born his name.

  ‘If I was French,’ Kelda thought miserably, ‘perhaps I could make him happy.’

  She looked at him quickly from under her dark eyelashes and thought that no man could look more distinguished or more handsome.

  His eyes met hers and there seemed to be a strange expression in them that she did not understand but told herself it was because the light from the candelabra distorted everything.

  At the same time she was well aware that her heart was beating in a strange manner and, although she could not quite understand it, the cloud of depression that had hovered over her ever since luncheon was lifting.

  Chapter Seven

  As the long and elaborate dinner ended, the head servant, before he withdrew, spoke to Lord Orsett in a low voice, who nodded and then he turned to Kelda,

  “The staff want to wish us happiness in the future, but, as they are Muslims, they cannot drink our health. I think therefore, we should divide the Wedding cake amongst them.”

  “I am sure they will enjoy it,” Kelda agreed.

  “And since to placate the chef we will have to eat the one he is baking tomorrow, we can just cut this one in traditional fashion and let it be taken outside.”

  Lord Orsett rose from the table as he spoke and Kelda, knowing it was expected of her, walked to join him at the side table where the large Wedding cake was arranged.

  It was a typical French confection of white icing with a large silver bell on top and silver horseshoes and imitation orange blossom decorating each of the three tiers.

  The head servant produced a long sharp knife and handed it to Kelda.

  As she took it, looking rather helplessly at the cake and wondering whether she should start with the top tier or the bottom one, Lord Orsett suggested,

  “I think, if we are to be correct, we should cut it together.”

  He put his hand over hers as he spoke.

  At the touch of his fingers and because he was so near to her Kelda felt an odd sensation flash through her.

  It was, she thought, half-pleasure and half-pain and unlike anything that she had ever felt before.

  It was the first time that Lord Orsett had touched her except for the moment when he had placed the Wedding ring on her finger in front of the Mayor.

  Then she had been too bemused to be conscious of anything except to believe that she must be dreaming.

  Now she was acutely aware of Lord Orsett and the nearness of him.

  Guided by his hand she thrust the knife into the bottom tier of the cake and, when it had cut through to the large silver tray on which it was standing, he said,

  “I think we have performed our part. Now it can be taken away and given to those who I hope will enjoy every mouthful.”

  With an effort because she was shy at what she was feeling, Kelda enquired,

  “I know it would be – impossible for me to – eat any more than I have done already.”

  “I feel the same,” Lord Orsett agreed, “so let’s go into a salon. Tonight we will sit in the one at the far end of the house.”

  Kelda wondered vaguely at his choice, but when she entered the room she saw that it too had been decorated with white flowers, not with the same profusion or with garlands as in the dining room, but there were huge vases on the tables and the scent of lilies filled the room.

  “Thank – you,” she said, feeling almost overwhelmed because he had been so thoughtful.

  She walked to one of the tables on which there was a beautiful arrangement of camellias and stood looking down at them.

  She was aware that Lord Orsett had walked across the room behind her and was now standing only a few feet away from her.

  “Why have you been crying?” he asked.

  Because he spoke so gently and in a voice that was different from any she had heard him use before, she felt the tears come into her eyes again.

  ‘It must be because I am tired,’ she thought, but she knew that was not the reason why she had cried so desperately and despairingly before she fell asleep.

  When she did not reply, Lord Orsett said after a moment,

  “I have a present for you for I feel that you should have one on your Wedding Day.”

  As he spoke, Kelda saw as if she was looking at a picture, the amber and gold necklace that Antoinette had worn around her neck and then, without considering her words, speaking impulsively, she said quickly,

  “I don’t – want a present. Please – don’t give me – anything!”

  She felt that Lord Orsett was surprised although she did not turn to look at him, knowing if she did, he would see the tears that were making it impossible for her to see the camellias.

  “Why do you say that?” he asked.

  Then after a moment, as if he had found the reason for himself, he said,

  “I think I have a lot of explaining to do. Suppose you sit down, Kelda, and listen to me?”

  He paused for a moment before he added,

  “It is important for our future together.”

  There was just a pause before he spoke the last word and Kelda drew in her breath.

  At least he intended that they should have a future together even though so much of his life would never be hers.

  Obediently and still not looking at him, she moved towards one of the large sofas and sat down in a corner of it.

  He chose a chair opposite her and she had the uncomfortable feeling that from there he could watch her face and know what she was feeling. Because she did not wish him to see too much, she looked down at her hands which she clasped in her lap.

  There was silence and it flashed through Kelda’s thoughts that Lord Orsett had changed his mind and would not after all explain anything to her.

  Then he said very calmly in what she felt was a deliberately impersonal voice,

  “You know from Yvette that I was married to her aunt, Ginette de Villon?”

  It was a question, but Kelda would not trust herself to speak and so she merely nodded her head.

  “I am sure that you must have wondered, and certainly Yvette did, why having married someone so attractive who loved the gaieties of Paris, I brought my wife to Dakar and made her stay here until she died.”

  There was something in the way Lord Orsett spoke that, even though his tone was quiet and calm, told Kelda that he was finding it hard to speak of the past and she had the feeling that he had not confided in any one in such a way before.

  She thought that she might be wrong until he went on,

  “Nobody except my wife was aware of my real reason for coming here and I
have never until this moment revealed it to anyone.”

  Because she felt embarrassed for him, Kelda said quickly,

  “I shall understand – if you do not wish to – tell me.”

  “It is your right to know,” Lord Orsett replied, “and I am determined that there should be no secrets between us.”

  Kelda looked at him in some surprise for it was something that she had never expected he would say. Then as he went on she looked down once again at her hands.

  “I fell in love with Ginette when I met her in London. I found her fascinating and quite unlike any of the young women I had met at balls and Receptions who were approved of by my mother as being eminently suitable to be my wife.”

  Lord Orsett’s lips tightened for a moment before he carried on,

  “It was what was called ‘a whirlwind courtship’ and, because I was young and idealistic and inexperienced, I did not think it strange that when I first met Ginette she appeared not to take the slightest interest in me and suddenly and overnight, changed completely and became as much the pursuer as the pursued.”

  Now there was definitely a bitter cynicism in Lord Orsett’s voice and a note too as if he mocked at himself.

  “I was too happy to be critical or inquisitive and the moment we were engaged we went to Paris where I was accepted most effusively by the de Villon family. We were married, had a short honeymoon and then returned to London.”

  Kelda was listening intently and she knew by the inflections in Lord Orsett’s voice how difficult he was finding it to relate to her what had happened.

  “It was some time before I understood my wife’s partiality for London and also why our marriage had taken place in such haste.”

  Again he paused.

  “No one actually told me the truth, it was just a look, a laugh, an innuendo and the fact that, when I came into a room, there always seemed to be a sudden silence as if the people in it had been talking about me.”

  Bitterly he went on,

  “My ‘Fool’s Paradise’ did not last for long. In the Marlborough House Set in which we moved, it would have been impossible for anything to remain a secret for long. There were always too many people involved and they talked and talked.”