An Innocent In Paris. Barbara Cartland
mother often told me of your gift,” Gardenia said, “and she laughed because it was absurdly extravagant and luxurious when she and my father were wondering how they were going to pay the doctor or the nurses, or for my layette, which was not a very elaborate one.”
“So that was the reason!” the Duchesse said in a stricken voice. “I did not understand. I had been rich for so long. Everything I wanted was always poured at my feet so that I had forgotten what it was to be poor. I was older than your mother and by the time she grew up I was already married and living in Paris. I suppose the contrast of our lives never struck me. Oh, Gardenia, how thoughtless I have been! But I loved Emily, I did really.”
“You must not distress yourself,” Gardenia urged her soothingly. “Mama never expected anything and she was so fond of you. She used to tell me how beautiful you were and how, when you went to Church when you were girls, everyone’s face turned towards you and that the male members of the choir could hardly sing for peeping at you over their hymn books.”
“And the Curate fell in love with me,” the Duchesse laughed. “He used to come round to tea and go crimson in the face every time I spoke to him. I used to try deliberately to make him blush because I was just finding out how much power I had over men. Oh dear, what a long time ago those days were.”
She looked across the bed at Gardenia and went on,
“At your age I was married. I had so wanted to get away from home. I also found Hugo Reinbard exceedingly attractive. I was not in love with him, but he fascinated me. My father warned me about him but I was not prepared to listen. What girl would have, when he offered me London and Paris and all I had at home was the village life and the Curate?”
“Mama used to say that you looked like an angel in your Wedding dress,” Gardenia said. “She often talked about you. I longed to see you and, when you came to visit us in June 1902, I thought she had not in any way exaggerated your loveliness. You were the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
The Duchesse smiled appreciatively at this compliment and then she put her hands to her face.
“Seven years ago and just look at me now. I have grown old, my face is lined. Oh, don’t bother to argue, my mirror tells me the truth. My beauty, Gardenia, is a thing of the past. But I will try and I shall go on trying, to recapture it. I have heard of a new discovery, something quite extraordinary the Hungarians have invented. It is a special treatment to – ”
The Duchesse stopped suddenly, the eagerness fading from her face.
“But I don’t want to talk about that for the moment. I want to discuss your position. You were right to come to me, absolutely right, dear child. There was no one else you could turn to and I think it was very brave of you to make the journey to Paris alone.”
“There was nothing else I could do. I suppose I ought to have waited and written to you, but since the men were waiting to take over the house, I sold what was left of the furniture to our friends in the village. There was not very much and I could not charge them a great deal as I owed most of them so much money. But I raised enough for my fare to Paris. Only just enough. I did not dare spend any of it even on sending you a telegram.”
“And you arrived last night. I could hardly believe it when Yvonne said that my niece was in the house.”
“It must have been a shock, but somehow I did not expect you to be giving a party. It was silly of me. I just thought I would arrive and I would explain what had happened and you would hopefully understand.”
“I do – I do understand, but now we have to make some plans. As I have said already, I don’t think you can stay here.”
“Not even for a little while?” Gardenia asked piteously. “I realise that I shall have to get a job. I have been thinking about it all the time I was travelling, but what can I do? I am not clever enough to be a Governess. My education was sketchy. I speak French, Mama insisted on that. I play the piano and I can paint a little. My arithmetic was always terrible and I never could spell.”
“Being a Governess is a terrible life for anyone,” the Duchesse said. “Besides you are my niece.”
Yes, I know. But what else is there? A companion?”
“No woman should be a companion to another woman. You will have to get married, my child.”
Gardenia flushed.
“I hope,” she said a little hesitantly, “as, of course, all girls hope, that one day I shall fall in love. But, first with Papa so ill and then Mama, I have not had much chance of going out or of meeting any men.”
“Yes, you must get married,” the Duchesse insisted firmly. “The difficulty is how we are going to manage it.”
“Could I not stay here for just a little while?” Gardenia asked nervously. “I will not be a bother, Aunt Lily, and perhaps I could help you in the house in some way. I can sew and – ”
The Duchesse made a little gesture with her hands.
“My dear child, I have dozens of servants, dozens of them to do everything for me. But I want to find you a husband and – ”
She stopped and it seemed to Gardenia that there was an expression of embarrassment on her face.
“Oh dear!” the Duchesse exclaimed. “I don’t know what to say. I know of no one I can ask to chaperone you, no one who would accept a young girl on my recommendation.”
“I don’t understand.”
“No, of course you don’t. But there are problems. It is not that I don’t want you to stay with me, but it is a difficult situation.”
“If you are frightened that I would get in the way of your parties,” Gardenia suggested, “I would not come to them. I could hear how very gay it was last night, but when I wanted to come upstairs and tell you that I had arrived, Lord Hartcourt persuaded me that it would be a stupid thing to do.”
“Lord Hartcourt. Have you met him?”
“Yes, I was waiting in the hall and he and Comte André de – I have forgotten his name – spoke to me.”
She decided not to tell her aunt how the Comte had behaved.
“That must have been André de Grenelle. Did you tell them who you were?”
“I told Lord Hartcourt I was your niece. Was that wrong?”
“No. No, of course not,” the Duchesse answered. “Did he seem surprised?”
“Well, it was rather awkward,” Gardenia explained. “I fainted – I think it was because I had so little food on the journey, and he carried me into the sitting room.”
“That was kind of him. It is very unlike Lord Hartcourt to trouble with anyone. He is a very spoilt and rather difficult young man. When he comes to my parties, I have the feeling that he is looking down his nose at me.”
“Oh, Aunt Lily, how could he do that!” Gardenia exclaimed.
At the same time she had a feeling at the back of her mind that it was exactly what Lord Hartcourt would do.
“So he has seen you and André as well. That makes things rather difficult.”
“But why?” Gardenia asked.
“You would not understand,” the Duchesse said firmly. “Well, we shall have to make the best of it. But if I do let you stay here, Gardenia, you must promise me to do exactly as I tell you. If I tell you to go to bed at a certain time, you must go. If I tell you not to talk to certain people, you must obey me.”
“Of course I would. Oh, Aunt Lily, does that mean you are going to let me stay?”
“I don’t really see what else I can do,” she answered. Then she smiled. “Yes, dear child. It will be nice to have you and, thank God, although you are young, you are not such a beauty that you will entirely eclipse