Dynasty 8: The Maiden: The Maiden (The Morland Dynasty) by Harrod-Eagles Cynthia

Author:Harrod-Eagles, Cynthia [Harrod-Eagles, Cynthia]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780748132959
Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group
Published: 2011-08-24T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

Jemmy held the door for Marie-Louise to pass into the vine-house, and followed her, closing it carefully behind them. They were enclosed at once in a warm, damp, and growing silence, a green silence and a privacy secured for them by the canopies of pale green leaves that pressed themselves against the glass walls and ceiling. The bunches of grapes, still green, hung down like tight-packed translucent beads, making Jemmy think of chandeliers. He touched one, and its unripe integrity rebuked his hand like the innocent eye of a maiden. When they were ripe and black, they invited touch, yearned for the mouth; but not now.

The Princess turned and waited for him, the green light making her hair look more coppery and her skin whiter. She stood very still, her gold eyes impassive, like an animal in its own habitat, wondering if its prey would be good to eat.

‘Mary – she seems almost dazed with grief,’ he said, continuing where he had left off. ‘She sits all day long with her hands in her lap, not speaking. If she would weep it would not be so bad. And if I try to speak to her, she just gets up and goes away, to another room. It isn’t so bad for me – I have things to do, things I have to do, to keep me busy. While I’m busy I can forget about it, but even then, when I finish a job, it suddenly comes back to me, like waking from a happy dream – Thomas and Harry. I can’t think of them dead. It surprises me every time. Handsome, clever Thomas, always doing, always complaining – he wanted to go on a Grand Tour. I keep thinking, now Thomas will never see Venice. And Harry – gentle Harry, always clowning. He reminds me of myself at his age. Reminded me – you see, for ten seconds together I can’t remember it. Why is death so surprising?’

Marie-Louise did not speak, only nodded, to make him go on.

‘But for Mary, it’s so much worse. She has nothing to do, she can’t forget even for a moment. And besides—’

‘And besides, she loved them more than you,’ Marie-Louise said, her voice perfectly neutral. Jemmy frowned.

‘Not really more. Anyone would think so, I suppose. She was devoted to them, yes, in a way I never was. But I don’t think she ever saw them as people. They were not separate from her, they were an extension of her.’

‘All the worse then, for her.’

‘Yes. I suppose so. She blames me, you know, that I wouldn’t let her see them before they died. But how could I? How could I let her see her precious Thomas looking like that.’ He shuddered at the memory. ‘That handsome face, so disfigured by those horrible sores—’

‘Perhaps you should have,’ Marie-Louise said abruptly. ‘Perhaps then he would have been real to her. Perhaps his death would have been real to her.’ Jemmy stared in surprise. ‘You treat her like

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