Mirror Image, page 36
"I'm afraid Maxim's in Paris is out of the question." Edouard looked amused. After watching her wear bloodied aprons for a month, and drive ambulances to their makeshift morgue behind the lines, she suddenly sounded very much like a woman.
"I have nothing to wear but my uniform, " she wailed, flattered that he asked her, but surprised too. They had become friends in the past month, but it never occurred to her that he might be attracted to her.
He was older than she was, of high rank, and this hardly seemed the place for romance, although she knew others were romantically involved here.
In some cases, the agony all around them brought people closer, in others it seemed more sensible to keep one's distance. And she had assumed that Edouard had chosen the latter tack.
"I have nothing to wear but my uniform either, Olivia." He looked amused. And it always made her smile when he said her sister's name.
She answered to it easily now, but in his case, it really felt like switching. She had thought of telling him once or twice, but she was afraid now of getting into trouble. She was traveling, after all, in a war zone, on someone else's passport. "That'll be fine, " he reassured her again, and told her he would pick her up at seven, when she got off duty.
She knew she'd have to get special permission to get off duty then, but in the end, Dither agreed to cover for her. She told him why and he raised an eyebrow at her.
"I wondered when that would happen, " he said approvingly. In the past month, he had really come to like her. She worked hard, she was always straight with him, and she did extra shifts, whenever she was needed, without a whisper of complaint. More often than not, she worked longer than her shift, and never said anything about it.
l I . s "We're just friends, " she said, laughing at him and his insinuations.
"That's what you think. You don't know Frenchmen." Dither laughed at her.
"Don't be stupid, " she said, and dashed back to her tent the night of the dinner, to at least change into a clean uniform for him. Her only concession to femininity that night was to let down her hair, and brush it quickly. She didn't even have any makeup. That had gone down on the Lusitania too, and she had never bothered to buy more after she lost it.
At the time, it had seemed so unimportant. Now it seemed a shame.
Edouard picked her up in a truck at her tent, and only a few heads turned. Every one else was either at dinner, in the trenches, or working.
"You look very nice, Olivia, " he said warmly and she didn't even react to the name anymore as she laughed and thanked him.
"Do you like my gown? " She pretended to preen, "I had it made in Paris.
And my hair? " She held it up like a model as she looked at him and grinned. "It took me hours to do it."
"You're a monster. No wonder your family sent you over here. I'm sure they were desperate to get rid of you."
"They were, " she said, thinking sadly of Charles and Geoff. But the truth was she didn't really miss them. Never once since she'd been here.
"Have you heard from your sister since you've been here? "
"Yes.
Twice. I've written to her too, but my letters sound so strange.
It's so hard to explain all this to anyone who's not here. I've sent the letters, but they sound so artificial."
"It's difficult to understand a war, unless you're in it, " he said, as they arrived at the chateau. She smoothed her hair again, and suddenly felt nervous as she walked in beside him. There were two other women there. The original chatelaine of the chateau, who was living on the grounds in a small cottage, was a countess, old enough to be Victoria's mother and very pleasant and polite. The other woman was the wife of one of the colonels visiting him from London. It was most unusual, but he hadn't been able to get away in months, and he had let her come to see him.
The dinner was a small, informal affair, and the conversation was mostly about the war at first, about the campaign in Galicia which had been so brutal. More than a million Poles had been killed in the past month, which seemed inconceivable to Victoria, though if she thought about it, she realized that she had probably seen a thousand men die since she got there.
Eventually, the conversation turned to other things. The general was extremely pleasant to her, they all spoke English perfectly to her, although Victoria's French was improving. And by ten o'clock, she and Edouard were on the way back to her barracks. He had been very proud of her, but he didn't say anything. He could see that both the general and the countess had been impressed, but Victoria was completely unaware of it as she chatted with Edouard all the way back. They could hear the rumble of the guns in the distance, and the familiar hissing around, and she prayed that that night at least the casualties wouldn't be too heavy.
"Where will it all end? " Victoria asked quietly, as Edouard pulled over just before they reached her barracks. There was nowhere else for them to go to talk, the mess hall was crowded with people at every hour, and there was no privacy for either of them anywhere. It was hard to find anyplace for quiet conversations, and most of the time they were surrounded by people. But just this once, he wanted to be alone with her, there were some things he wanted to tell her.
"Wars never take us to a better place, " he said philosophically.
"Looking back over history, all the way back to the Punic Wars, everyone loses in the end."
"Why don't we run out there and tell them that." She smiled over at him as he offered her a cigarette and she took it. She was smoking Gitanes now. "We might save everyone an awful lot of trouble."
"Don't forget, they always shoot the messenger, " he said, as he lit her cigarette with a gold lighter. "I had a wonderful time tonight, " he said, looking at her, wondering what she had left behind in New York. It was hard to believe she hadn't left a trail of broken hearts, yet for the past month, as he observed her carefully, she always seemed so unencumbered. "You're very good company, Olivia. I'd like to do this again sometime, " he said, wishing they were back in Paris. Life would have been so different there. He could have done so many things with her, driven her to his chateau in Chinon, shooting in Dordogne, introduced her to all his friends, a little time in the south of France.
It would have been Heaven. But all they had now were the trenches between Streenstraat and Poelcapelle, and men dying of phosgene. It wasn't much of a courtship.
"I had a good time too, " she said easily, savoring the French cigarette, and his company. She enjoyed being with him. "The general is quite something." She smiled at Edouard, and he took her hand and kissed it.
"So are you." And then he set her hand down gently again, not sure how she'd react to what he had to tell her. "There's something I want to say to you, Olivia. I don't want there to be any misunderstandings between us." But as he said the words, she felt a familiar ache in her heart where it had been wounded before, and she could feel her whole body stiffen.
She said it for him, without waiting for him to destroy her. She would never let this happen to her again. She knew she would be defended against all men forever. "You're married, " she said, entirely without emotion, her eyes searching his, her heart completely hidden from him.
"What makes you say that? " He was totally startled. She was wiser than he realized, and he wondered what had happened to her. He could see the pain in her eyes now, it was brutal and still very much alive.
"I just knew. Not before .. . but when you said that. What else is there? "
"Oh .. . many things .. . people carry all kinds of baggage with them. This is mine. It's not a real marriage, " he said, and she interrupted him harshly.
"No, of course not, it's a loveless one. You never should have married her, and you might leave her after the war, or then again you might not .. ." Her voice trailed off, and there was something very wounded in her eyes as she looked out the window, away from him.
"Not exactly. She left me five years ago. And yes, it was a loveless marriage. For both of us. I'm not even sure where she is right now.
In Switzerland probably. She ran away with my best friend.
But frankly, it was a relief. We were married for three years and we hated each other. But I cannot get divorced, this is a Catholic country.
And I wanted you to know that. That presumes many things, all of them preposterous, I'm sure, but I didn't want to wait until any later time to tell you. As far as the law and the Church are concerned, I'm married. The rest is, unfortunately, a little more vague." She turned to look at him in surprise. The story was a little different than she'd expected. Or maybe it was all the same, and this was the French edition.
She wasn't sure whether or not to believe him, and her uncertainty showed as she watched him.
"She left you? " She looked very young as she asked, and he smiled at her cautious expression.
He nodded, looking totally undisturbed. It had been a long time ago, and there had been one or two women of interest since, but nothing permanent, and no one lately. Not in a year. "Almost six years ago, " he explained. "I should tell you that she broke my heart, to arouse your sympathy, but I'm afraid I can't. It was an enormous relief when she left. I owe Georges my life for it. One day I'll have to thank him properly. The poor devil has probably always felt guilty." He was smiling at her, and she had to laugh at his expression.
"Why did you hate her so much? "
"Because she was spoiled, and difficult, and quite unbearable, and really profoundly very nasty. She was the most selfish woman who ever lived, and impossible to get along with."
"Why did you marry her? Is she very pretty? " Victoria was curious about him, more so than she would have admitted at that moment.
But he was an intriguing man.
"Very pretty, " he said honestly. He had always had a foible for beauty.
"But it wasn't that. At least, I hope not. She was engaged to my brother, and he died in a hunting accident unfortunately. They were to be married in a few weeks, and he'd been stupid enough to get her pregnant, " he looked at her apologetically, "I'm sorry, I've been at the front for too long, I shouldn't have said that, " but she only waved a hand and took another of his cigarettes, as she listened to him with interest. It didn't sound entirely unlike her own story.
"Anyway, I did what I thought was the noble thing. I stepped in for him, and married her. She miscarried three weeks later, or so she said.
Actually, I'm not even convinced she was ever pregnant. I think she trapped him, and he was naive enough to believe her. And frankly, I think if he'd married her, he'd have killed her. He wasn't as patient as I am.
"Three years later, she left with Georges, after carrying on with him for nearly a year and assuring herself, and him, I didn't know it.
I believe there were two or three others before him. And now they're gone, and my life is amazingly peaceful. The only problem is that unless Georges becomes very rich, which I doubt as he's not terribly bright, or she meets someone else, she will not divorce me. I could settle a large sum of money on her, and I've tried to, but for the moment, she prefers the title."
"Title? " Victoria raised an eyebrow, and he brushed his hand as though to sweep the word away like a cobweb.
"She's a baroness now, unfortunately. She'd have been nothing at all if she'd married my brother. He was the younger son. And I'm afraid Heloise is rather fond of titles. What we need now is a better one.
Like a marquis or a viscount." He was very funny about it, and she was smiling at him. It was all a great deal less frightening than when he'd first said it. But now he looked at her in the darkness. Their eyes had long since adjusted to it, and he had seen everything in her face when he first told her. "And now you must tell me about the man who broke your heart, I believe I struck a nerve when I said loveless' marriage.
Do you want to tell me about it? " he asked gently, and this time he reached for her hand and held it. He was relieved to have told her what he had to say. He didn't want to give anyone the illusion that he was free to marry them, because he wasn't. He was free, but not for marriage. And up until he met her, he had never minded. He was only sorry not to have had children at some point, but the thought of having them with Heloise gave him nightmares.
"There's not much to say, " Victoria lied politely at first.
"It's really not very important."
"Important enough to come here for? " he asked gently, "or was it something else? "
"It was many things, " she said honestly, feeling obliged now to tell him something since he had been so honest, or at least she thought he was. But his story had the ring of truth, and the kind of stupidities she herself might have entered into. "Yes, there was someone, " she said finally, "I was very young and very stupid, it was two years ago.
I was twenty. And incredibly naive. Actually, " she looked embarrassed briefly and he smiled encouragingly, "it sounds so unimportant now. Then it seemed so monumentally important. I fell in love with him, and he swept me offmy feet. I did a lot of very foolish &things in a very short time. We were visiting New York for a couple of months, and he was older, and very charming .. . and very married .
.. he had three children.
But he told me he hated his wife, that they had nothing more than an arrangement and not a marriage, and he was planning to leave her at any moment. They would get divorced, and if I would wait patiently, of course we would be married. And of course .. . it was all nonsense .
.
. I .. . I .. ." She couldn't say the words to him, it was too embarrassing even after all he'd told her. "I believed what he said, " and then she forced herself to say it, "and I fell very much in love with him. I .. . I compromised my reputation, and someone told my father. My father confronted him and he said, " her eyes hardened here as Edouard watched her, "he said that I had seduced him. He denied me entirely, denied that he had ever made any promises, he even told me that he never intended to leave her at all, in fact she was pregnant.
" And then she decided that if she was going to shock him, now was the time. She had nothing to lose yet, and if he told anyone, she would hate him.
But something deep inside her told her to trust him. "His wife was having a baby, " she said softly, "but so was I. We went back to Croton-on-Hudson where we live, and I fell off my horse and lost it a few weeks later. I had to go to the hospital, and I think I almost died. I lost a lot of blood, but it was all over. My father was in an uproar by then.
He said everyone in New York was talking about me. The man I'd been in love with had been telling people what I'd done. I suppose he thought it was very funny, but my father said I had to do something to regain my 1!
I reputation, and his, and my sister's. He said I had jeopardized everyone by what I'd done and we'd never be able to set foot out of the house again. That sort of thing, " Victoria said, and sighed as she looked out the window, remembering how awful it had been then, and how desperate she had felt when he said it. And then she turned to Edouard with a sad smile. "So he forced me to marry one of his lawyers. He said I had no choice. I owed it to them. And I believed him. I used to think I never wanted to get married. I just wanted to be a suffragette and go on hunger strikes and go to jail, and get arrested, " she said, her eyes alight again and Edouard laughed with an interested expression.
"That's certainly an alternative, though not necessarily one I would recommend." He put her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers.
"I don't imagine you were easy to control two years ago, or , , per laps ever.
She smiled at him, acknowledging the possibility of that. "Maybe not.
Anyway, I did it. I married him. He was a widower, with a son, his wife died on the Titamic, and he wanted a mother for his son."
"And were you? " he asked with even more interest. There was certainly a great deal more to her than he had expected. But she had not come here for no reason.
"No, " she answered him honestly. "I was not a mother to him, or a wife to Charles. The boy hated me, and I believe the father does too.
I was everything his wife wasn't. And he wasn't .. . the man I'd been in love with. I couldn't be who he wanted me to be, do what he wanted me to do.
I hated all of it, and I hated him .. ." Her voice trailed off as Edouard watched her. "I felt nothing for him, " she said sadly, "and he knew it."
"Is he a bad man too? "
"No." Her eyes filled with tears as she shook her head and looked at him. "No .. . he isn't. I just didn't love him." That was the whole of it, she never had, and she never would, and Edouard understood that.
"And where is he now? " Edouard asked softly. He wasn't the only one who was encumbered.
"In New York, " she whispered.
"And you're still married to him, I assume? " He sounded disappointed.
This was not what he had expected.
"Yes, I am." She looked at him, with wide, sad eyes.
"Perhaps he loves you more than you think if he let you come here." It was a generous thing for him to do, and Edouard admired him for it.
He knew he couldn't have done it with a wife of his own, no matter how headstrong or independent.
But then she startled him even more. "He doesn't know I'm here, " she said quietly, knowing she had to tell him all of it. There was no holding back now, whatever the dangers. She had to trust him.
She wanted to. For the first time in two years, she trusted a man.
And she knew that this man wouldn't hurt her.
"Where does he think you are? " he asked, horrified, and suddenly she grinned at him. It really was awful, but it suddenly struck her very funny. It was so funny she didn't know how to begin to explain it.
"He thinks I'm at home with him." "What on earth do you mean? " He looked totally confused, and then he stared at her, his mouth opening in amazement. "Oh my God ..
.
your sister .. . is that it? Does he think .. ."
"I hope so."
"You changed places with your sister? " He looked appalled and she was suddenly frightened that he might expose her. He had her home address after all in her passport. What if he wrote to them and told them?
