Jane Feather - Charade by Unknown (howl and other poems .TXT) 📕

avoid jumping to conclusions in future.The game would take rather longer to play, and he must have a care tohis hand—something a little more devious than his original

plan whichhad, after all, been rather crude. No, on the whole, he decided that hewas pleased with this turn of events. The St. Estephes had waited closeon forty years for their revenge on the house of Linton—a little longerwould make no difference.

"I wish for some music," Marie Antoinette declared, suddenly bored nowthat the appearance of the

chit's husband had put an end to St.Estephe's flirtation. "Danielle, you will play for us."

"I play indifferent well, Madame," Danielle demurred, and a deep frownof displeasure darkened Her Majesty's countenance.

"I should like to be the judge of that myself," she said coldly.

"As you command, Madame." Danielle curtsied and made haste to obey theroyal edict.

"Now you may regret your misspent youth and wish you had practiced alittle more," Justin teased in a low whisper as he escorted her to thespinet.

"That is unkind, milord." But she could not help a chuckle. "Anyway, itis Toinette who will suffer." She took her seat on the embroideredbench. "Do not stand beside me, Justin. It will only make me nervous."

"I was intending to turn the music for you," he said with a fairassumption of hurt.

"Then you will have idle hands, for I shall use no music."

Justin barely controlled his grin as he wondered what she was about.This conventional gathering would not take kindly to Danielle'sextensive repertoire of earthy country songs, particularly if she choseto extemporize as she did at home, much to the somewhat shockedamusement of Jules and his friends. He left her and took a seat wherehe could see her face without his observation disturbing herconcentration.

Danielle thought for a moment, her fingers running over the keyboard asshe dug out the memory. Then, with a small satisfied nod, she began toplay, singing softly at first and then with increasing power as thememory of long afternoons in Languedoc took over from this grim, stuffyroom of as yet unacknowledged imprisonment. She played the songs hermother had played, Cornish folk songs and the songs of Languedoc—thesongs of the people, sometimes haunting and plaintive, sometimes filledwith the elemental joy of those who lived their lives by the elements.

What was she? St. Estephe gazed in fascination. She played and sangfrom memory the words of a culture that few in this room hadever acknowledged existed, let alone troubled to learn. And there was

no mockery in her hands or voice. He glanced at the husband who satsmiling, eyes half closed, clearly quite at ease with this facet of hiswife. Perhaps the child was not the simpleton she appeared. The

comte

looked around the room. In general, attempting to entertain this courtwas a thankless activity. Conversation scarcely paused and even'Toinette lost interest after the first few bars. But the de St.Varennes was heard in silence. The applause when she had finished wasmuted, but when she looked to the queen for permission to leave thespinet she received an imperative beckoning finger,

"Where did you learn those pretty songs, Danielle?"

"From my mother, Madame," Danielle replied. "I am happy that theypleased you."

"They provided a most refreshing change," Marie Antoinette said. "Alittle light, of course, but that is no bad thing these days. You shallplay for us again tomorrow."

Danielle accepted her dismissal with a deep curtsy and even deeperrelief. She was now free to leave the salon and did so with acomprehensive look at Justin that told him to follow her with alldecent haste.

He did so within the half hour and found her in a silk wrapper pacingthe bedchamber like a jungle cat suddenly behind bars. "Justin, if youdo not take me out of here for a few hours,

immediatement

, I shall goquite mad and I am sure you would not care for a wife in Bedlam."

"No, I do not think that would be at all the thing," he concurredgravely and was rewarded with an involuntary chuckle.

"Justin, I am quite in earnest," Danny persisted. "I cannot continue inthis way without relief."

"Forgive me, my love, but I was under the impression that this was whatyou wanted. You went to considerable trouble to achieve this end, as Irecall." It was quite irresistible, but Justin regretted the teasingremark instantly as a veritable tempest of shoes, books, and pillowswas launched at his head

with Danielle's usual accuracy, accompanied bya torrent of invective that seemed even richer than usual.

"Danny, do stop," he begged, dodging a flying hairbrush that crashedinto the wall, narrowly missing the mirror.

"How you can say such a thing after everything I have been through,"she stormed. "All those women, chatter, chatter all the time, and theplace is so dirty and it stinks! But you go where you please, talk towhomever you please, amuse yourself. . ."

"Danny, I do

not

amusemyself. I am merely executing my half of thetask whilst you execute yours."

"Oh, yes. That is so easy to say, is it not? Tomorrow, you may stayhere and I will put on my britches and visit the Palais Royal..."

"You will

not

." Her husbandwas betrayed into a shout of protest,knowing full well that Danny never made idle threats.

"And why not, pray? I should do every bit as well as you, I daresay;probably better since the language

is my own."

"That may be so, but I will not permit it." Odd's breath! One of thesedays he would learn not to say

that! But before he could soften thestatement Danny had dived beneath the bed to emerge in the wink

of aneye and with the heavy porcelain chamber pot which she brandishedmenacingly over her head.

Justin tried not to laugh as she advanced on him, a slender, scantilyclad figure rigid with a determination that he knew he must diffuse."Danny, if you try