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

"Of course, my lady." He bowed low. "If you will be pleased to followme." He opened a door without knocking and Danielle walked past himwithout acknowledgement. D'Evron followed,closing the door firmly in Mr. Barkis's face.

It was a small room; a minute fire of sticks and lumps of charcoaltried unsuccessfully to throw off some heat. There was no furniture,except for three thin pallets on the floor. But some effort had beenmade to sweep and dust.

A woman with pinched cheeks and a hugely swollen belly held a baby ofabout a year, three others tottered, crawled, and sniveled around her.Danielle bent to pick up one infant who was showing an unhealthyinterest in her unsanitary boots. She wiped his nose on her cambrichandkerchief and smiled

at the child's mother.

"Bonjour, madame. Je suis Danielle deSt. Varennes."

It seemed simplerto introduce herself thus in the circumstances. When she accosted Mr.Barkis she would be the Countess of Linton.

Madame Duclos knew the name, what Parisian did not? Amazement flashedin the weary eyes but it

died under the smiling regard of this younggirl who was now sitting on the floor with the little Gerard in hervelvet lap.

"The chevalier has told me something of your circumstances, madame. Iam here to help you if you will permit . . .

non, petit chou,

you maynot have that." Laughing Danielle removed the painfully thin babyfingers from her bracelet.

"Votremari, il nest pas id, maintenant?"

"My husband is looking for work, milady." Madame Duclos lookednervously at the chevalier who smiled his encouragement. Haltingly shetold the pathetic story of panic and flight, the long days of waitingfor the passports, the sums expended in bribery, the need to leaveeverything behind except what cash and material goods they could carryeasily. All their assets had been tied up in the small but growingshoemakers in St. Michel. The Ducloses had been solid, comfortablemembers of the bourgoisie, no great aspirations for wealth butcontented with their lot. Jean Duclos had seen the danger clouds on thehorizon and had thought only of his young family. They were neitheraristocracy nor peasants, could identify with neither rich nor poorand, as a result, could well be amongst the first victims of the tideof insurrection that was still an ill-conceived bubble—a mountainspring waiting to trickle down the steep slope tobecome a part of the wildly rushing river. He had thought he was doingthe right thing by removing his family from potential danger, only tofind that a hostile land had no succor to offer.

Danielle listened to the story, controlled hergrowing rage at thetreatment they had received since

reaching London, and asked a very fewpertinent questions.

"When do you expect to be confined, madame?" It was her last question.

"In one week," Madame Duclos answered.

Danielle looked around the room and imagined giving birth. Childrenunderfoot, petrified witnesses to their mother's pain and labor; waterthat could not be brought to the boil on the tiny fire; dust, dirt,blood, and agony. But for every Madame Duclos there were a hundredothers. She could not rescue them all with her wealth and privilege andit was better to settle for what she could do. She could pay for themidwife, for heat, food, and a roof. There was no time to remove thefamily to Danesbury before the baby arrived and she certainly could notpeople Linton's estates with French refugees. After madame was confinedthen she could find room for this family, but if the rest were to behelped, she must accept the limitations of what she could offer.

D'Evron watched her face as she thought. The change was quitestartling, as startling as the appearance

of the pistol. She lookedolder, much older than her eighteen years, a wealth of experience,knowledge, and acceptance showing on the small face of the pamperedaristocrat. What was she? He knew who

she was, but all preconceptionsnow vanished into the mist. It was a question that would be asked manytimes by many people in the next several years.

"Madame, I will arrange matters so that you may remain here until afteryour confinement." Danielle

set the baby on his knees and stood up. "Ifyour husband is willing to pursue some trade other than the one heknows, then I can perhaps arrange for you to move to my husband'sestate in Hampshire. The

air will be good for the children and you willhave a little land." She smiled hesitantly, recognizing the paucity ofher offer in the light of their previous existence in Paris and theotherwoman's hesitation at accepting what was, in the final analysis,charity.

But Madame Duclos had lost her pride many months ago. "We shall be mostgrateful, milady."

"Then I will talk to the

bete

,Barkis." Danielle was all brisk businessas she turned to the chevalier.

"Mon ami,

you will accompany me." Shecounted out bills into Madame Duclos's lap. "This should suffice foryour present needs, madame. Should you need me, you may send a messageto this address." She wrote rapidly on a visiting card. "The chevalierwill keep me informed of your progress and I will make the necessaryarrangements for your removal to Danesbury."

Tears filled the other woman's eyes and Danielle averted her gaze andturned swiftly to the door. "You will be troubled no longer, madame."

Mr. Barkis, after three minutes in the company of the Countess ofLinton, was happy to receive the

past due rent and the followingmonth's together with a substantial sum for his trouble. He promised tofind a reliable midwife when madame's time came and decided that thepresence of wailing tots upstairs was infinitely preferable to anotherencounter with this lady of Quality with the snapping eyes, the frigidtones, and the most clearly defined threats.

"We must make haste, chevalier." Danielle glanced up at the sky. It wasnow late afternoon and she wished to be home before Linton who would bebound to remark on the dust and mud splashes on her dress and themalodorous filth on her boots.

"Do you still have your