Pure and Untouched Read online

  There was an acid note in the Comtesse’s voice that Anoushka did not miss.

  Then she realised that this lady was angry because the Duke had married her.

  Quite suddenly she thought the reason was very obvious.

  “Were you my husband’s mistress, madame?” she enquired. The other woman was turned to stone and for a moment there was silence from sheer astonishment. Then she exploded furiously,

  “How dare you ask me such a thing! I have never been so insulted in my whole life!”

  Her voice rose as she spoke and the Duke and the two men talking to him turned their heads to see what was occurring.

  Then, as the Comtesse stalked away, her bustle moving behind her like the tail-feathers of an angry turkey, the two men murmured their apologies and followed after her.

  The Duke looked at Anoushka.

  “What happened? What did you say to upset her?” he enquired.

  “I-I am sorry if what I said was – wrong,” Anoushka answered.

  As if overcome by what had happened, she sat down again at the table and the Duke did the same.

  “But what upset her?” he replied.

  Anoushka looked towards the restaurant where she could see the Comtesse speaking angrily and waving her hands about and insisting on leaving while the gentlemen tried to persuade her to stay.

  “I had no idea that what I said would – make her so – cross,” she said, “or – that it was – rude.”

  “What did you say?” the Duke insisted.

  “She told me how much you – meant to each other and I – asked her if she had been your – mistress,” Anoushka said in a low voice.

  As she spoke, she looked at the Duke pleadingly, begging him to understand that she had not meant to be rude or insulting, but had merely thought it was the logical explanation of the way the Comtesse was speaking of him. For the moment the Duke looked stem, then quite unexpectedly he laughed.

  “You are – not angry?” Anoushka asked him.

  “It was my fault,” he said. “I can understand how this all evolved from our conversation about Madame Pompadour. I should have warned you never to call a woman a man’s mistress to her face, as it is certainly not a compliment, especially when she is a lady who, if she has love affairs, tries to do so very secretly and everybody pretends to know nothing about them!”

  “But was she your mistress?” “That is a question you must understand I cannot answer, because it is dishonourable for a man to betray a woman’s secrets or to mention her name in public.”

  “Or to his wife?”

  The Duke felt that once again he had stepped into a maze.

  Only last night he had been telling Anoushka there should be no secrets between them and now he was saying that where he was concerned there must be one.

  He found himself wondering how he had ever gone through life until now without becoming so involved in the inevitable laws of social behaviour and finding them so difficult to explain.

  Then, as he was silent, Anoushka said,

  “I am sorry – very sorry to have – done anything – wrong, but I did warn you that, because I am so – ignorant, I was not the – right sort of wife for you to marry.”

  “What you do or what you say at the moment does not concern our marriage,” the Duke said. “You might just as well say your school is a bad one and you should not be there because you got one lesson wrong. What actually is wrong is the inadequacy of your teacher.”

  Anoushka smiled and it swept the worry from her eyes.

  “I don’t think even your worst enemy could call you inadequate,” she sighed, “and you are, I know, a very clever man.”

  “And you think you are capable of judging me?” the Duke asked sarcastically.

  “I can only compare you with the other people I have met, the teachers who came to the Convent specially and told me they were the best in Paris. And of course we were instructed by some of the most important Priests in France. Even the Cardinal called on us once or twice a year.”

  “So you felt you could appraise their talents and intelligence when you were gaining their commendation,” the Duke remarked cynically.

  He knew as he spoke that he had upset her and, as she looked away from him across the garden, he said quickly,

  “Believe me, Anoushka, I am pleased and honoured that you should admire my intellect. It is something I want you to do.”

  “It was – presumptuous of me to comment – or to compare you with other people.”

  The Duke realised that she was far too perceptive not to have realised that it had flashed through his mind that it was an impertinence that a young and supremely ignorant girl who had only lived in a Convent should criticise him even favourably.

  Then he realised that it was from her point of view the greatest compliment she could pay him.

  It was a fact that, although she had been incarcerated between four walls, she had nevertheless studied under people who were high in their own professions and, unlike the majority of his friends, used their brains.

  He had no idea, as he was thinking about her, that Anoushka was reading his thoughts and after a moment she said,

  “Now you are forgiving me I am glad – so very glad. Please – don’t let what I have done – spoil our luncheon – and I promise I will never say such a thing again.”

  She looked so lovely as she was pleading with him that the Duke thought he would have had to be made of granite not to respond wholeheartedly to what she asked.

  “Forget the whole episode, Anoushka. It is of no consequence.”

  “But your friend – the Comtesse.”

  “I will send her some flowers and an apology,” the Duke said, “and there is no need for me to see her again.”

  Anoushka looked at him quickly.

  “But perhaps you want to – and if so, I could stay at home and you could go to her house – alone.”

  “I have no wish to do that,” the Duke replied and realised to his surprise it was the truth.

  After luncheon they drove round the Bois. Then, as it was very hot, the Duke took Anoushka back to the house and they sat on the terrace overlooking the garden and felt the faint cool breeze coming from the Seine.

  “It is cooler here,” Anoushka remarked as the servants brought them long drinks of fresh lime-juice.

  “Personally I find it unpleasantly hot,” the Duke said. “Tomorrow we will leave for the South of France where it will be hotter still, but there will be breezes from the sea and we will have nothing to do but enjoy the sunshine until my yacht arrives.” “Your yacht?” Anoushka questioned.

  “I have sent for it to come to Nice and I think perhaps we will cruise down the Mediterranean, stopping at any country that interests you.”

  He watched her face as he went on,

  “There is Italy, Sicily, Greece, and of course, if we are to be very adventurous we could go on to Constantinople and into the Black Sea.”

  He thought Anoushka drew in her breath, but he was not sure.

  Then swiftly before he could say any more she said,

  “Please, let us do that. It is something I would love above all things and I am never seasick.”

  The Duke thought this was definitely an inadvertent clue about her secret past, but he made no comment except to say,

  “The gowns from Worth will have to follow us, but I think you will find that one or two will be ready tomorrow and I have already ordered some more from the dressmakers from whom I bought the one you have on.”

  “I am afraid I am costing you a lot of money.” “You have forgotten that you could pay for them yourself.”

  “Of course! I have forgotten, because at the Convent we never had any money. But there is something much more important I must do.”

  “What is that?” the Duke asked.

  “You said that I could buy you a present which I could pay for myself and I want it to be a very very expensive one, because you have given me so much.” “Not as much as I in
tend to give you,” the Duke replied. “I am finding it fascinating to dress a woman ‘from scratch’ so to speak and one who is content to let me have my own way.”

  He might have guessed, he thought after he had spoken, that Anoushka would not let such a remark pass.

  “I think what you are saying, Monseigneur,” she said, “is that you have dressed other women in the past. Were they your – ”

  The word ‘mistresses’ hovered on her lips, but she bit it back.

  The Duke smiled to himself.

  He wondered how many dozens of gowns he had been coaxed into paying for by the women who had granted him their favours.

  There had also been furs, ermines and sables – and jewels, so many necklaces, earrings, bracelets and brooches that he had lost count.

  He was well aware that the women to whom he had made love, whether they were Ladies of Quality or Demi-Mondaines, thought, because he was so rich, that it was only right that he should pay for the privilege to the utmost that they could extract from him.

  Of course they gave him presents in return, but always objects that were small and of no intrinsic value.

  It was something new to have a woman wish to pay back what he was spending in the same generous way that he gave.

  “What I want to do”, Anoushka said, “was to give you something you do not have already. But this would be impossible if all your houses are as perfect as this one. But I have thought of something that I could give you, if you would help me choose it.” “What can that be?” the Duke asked.

  “A horse,” Anoushka replied. “The horses you have here in Paris are very fine and from what you have said, when you were talking about your stable in England, I think those you have there must be finer still.”

  He looked at her in surprise as she continued,

  “Could you please choose a really fantastic horse, one that is so good and so fine that it will win lots of races. Then, if I could pay for it, I feel it would bear comparison with the diamonds and gowns you have given to me.”

  The Duke was amused and rather touched.

  “Thank you, Anoushka. Nobody else is likely to give me a horse for a wedding present and I would like it above all things.”

  Anoushka clapped her hands together like a child. “When can we choose it? And where?”

  “As soon as we get back to England. There is a sales room in London called Tattersall’s, where I buy quite a number of my horses. Or we can visit some of the breeders and see what they have to offer.”

  Anoushka’s eyes were shining as she said,

  “I was not wrong. I thought that was what you would like. I am so glad!”

  “We will choose it together and there is another question I need to ask you.”

  “What is that?”

  “Can you ride?”

  “Not well enough to ride with you,” she said in a low voice. “I – used to think I rode well – but that was a long time – ago.”

  “You mean you rode before you went to the Convent?” The Duke realised that he had caught her off her guard and for a moment she did not know what to say.

  Then, as if she felt there was no harm in admitting it was the truth, she said,

  “Yes – but I am sure that riding is – something one does not forget.”

  “We will soon find out, but I would rather you started at home on my own horses than here in Paris.”

  “Yes – of course. It would be very humiliating if I fell off in the Bois where there are so many people about – and please – will you teach me yourself?”

  “Of course,” the Duke agreed. “And I am sure from the way you move that you will be a very fine rider.” “It is something I am sure all Englishmen do well.” The Duke was aware that she was thinking of her father and he said,

  “I hope that you will always think so, and as an Englishwoman, Anoushka, and my wife, you must learn to hunt, for it is a sport I very much enjoy in the winter and I have my own pack of foxhounds.”

  “Explain to me, explain to me exactly what that means,” Anoushka said. “I did know once, but I may have forgotten.”

  *

  By the time they went back for dinner the Duke thought he had never spent a more unusual and at the same time intriguing afternoon.

  He was now beginning to find it fascinating to discover the extreme contrasts in Anoushka’s knowledge. In some subjects, the academic ones, she knew as much, if not more than he did, but in others there were voids of ignorance and because she demanded it, he tried to fill them. He found himself understanding why parents liked to answer the questions their children asked them, to read to them and instruct them.

  But Anoushka was not a child and she had a rapier-like intelligence which made her never miss a point and a memory which he found so retentive that everything he said to her was remembered and catalogued for future use.

  When she came into the salon before dinner, he thought it ridiculous with her looks for her to concentrate so insistently on her mind or for him to do so.

  Every time she changed her gown, it seemed to him she took on a different beauty as the colours themselves were reflected differently in her eyes.

  The coiffeur was also trying out different styles on her hair and the Duke found it difficult to say which he preferred.

  Tonight she was wearing a gown of silver and white, which he had bought because it seemed to him appropriately bridal.

  The silver was echoed, he thought, in the strange silver streaks in her hair and round her neck, instead of diamonds, she wore a necklace of large oriental pearls he had sent to her room before dinner and which were glowingly translucent against the whiteness of her skin.

  She looked very young, very ethereal and almost like a sprite arising from the Seine rather than the social figure of a Duchess.

  As she crossed the room towards him, her eyes were watching the expression on his face. He knew that she was wanting his approval and was nervous in case there was something wrong with her gown.

  She stood waiting for him to speak and after a moment he said, “You look very lovely! Is that what you want me to tell you or has your mirror done so already?”

  She gave a little laugh before she replied,

  “How do you know I looked at my reflection hoping it would tell me the truth?”

  “That is what every woman does when she wears a new gown and, if you had not liked what you saw, you would have changed into something else and I would have had to wait for you!”

  “I would not have dared to be late, but I would have been upset if you had not approved.”

  “When we have been married a little longer, you will grow tired of my compliments,” the Duke commented lightly.

  Anoushka shook her head.

  “They are very very exciting for me, because I have never had any before.”

  “I suppose that’s true,” the Duke conceded. “That is why if for no other reason you will find it amusing to be with men rather than shut away with nothing but women!”

  “Do all men pay women compliments?” she asked. “I promise you that you will receive a great many before you are very much older.” His prophecy was very soon proved to be true, because when they arrived at the Grand Vefour, a small but very exclusive restaurant where he had taken Anoushka to dine, two of his French friends hurried to their table as soon as they were seated.

  When the Duke presented them to Anoushka, they kissed her hand and speaking fluent English paid her compliments which made her look at them wide-eyed.

  “How can Raven, who has always beaten us in every race, have carried off yet another prize so alluring, so exquisite,” one asked, “without our even being able to compete for it?”

  “Are you saying that I am the prize?” Anoushka asked ingenuously.

  “Of course, Duchess, although, ‘prize’ is an inadequate word. You are a star glittering out of reach, the moon for which every man yearns, and the sun which Raven has now made exclusively his when you should really shine your radiance f
or the benefit of all mankind.”

  They said a great deal more before they went back to their own table and when they were gone Anoushka said with laughter in her voice,

  “You were quite right. I enjoy compliments and I hope I have many, many more.”

  “The two gentlemen you have just met are unusually poetic,” the Duke said dryly. “An Englishman will simply tell you that you are a ‘good sport’ and a ‘fine figure of a woman’! And even then they will feel they are being over-effusive!”

  Anoushka laughed. Then she asked him,

  “And what compliments do you pay to the ladies you admire and – love?”

  “That is something I must not tell you,” the Duke replied.

  “It is a secret?”

  “Not exactly a secret, but indiscreet, and something that would make the average wife jealous.”

  There was silence and then Anoushka said,

  “You mean – that if you – admire another woman – I should be jealous?”

  “It is what most women would be.”

  “But – why?”

  “Because I am your husband and I am supposed to be interested only in my wife, and of course faithful to her.”

  “And was the lady we met today not married when you were, as she insisted, ‘very close friends’?”

  The Duke thought that once again he had been ‘hoist with his own petard’ and was relieved that for the moment, while they were served with one of the exotic courses he had ordered and the waiters hovered over them, it was impossible to speak intimately.

  But he might have guessed that what he had said was being turned over in Anoushka’s mind, and when the meal was finished and there was only the coffee left in front of them and a glass of brandy for the Duke, she piped up,

  “Could I-I – ask you a question?”

  “Of course,” he answered.

  “Now that we are married, if you see a woman you think beautiful and attractive – and want to say loving things to her – am I to pretend that I do not – know what is happening?”

  “Let us hope it is something that will not happen, but if it does, it should be a matter that is kept secret from you and certainly beneath your condescension to interfere in.”

  “But you said that most wives would be jealous.” “I think all women are jealous of a rival,” the Duke said evasively.