Chapter 13: I'll Met by Moonlight

"You were expected home last night ... I have been worried out of my mind ... What happened to delay you? ... Have you been injured?"

Mimi ran down the steps of the chateau as I made my way to the front door, questions tumbling from her lips.

"Everything is fine. We faced an unavoidable delay in leaving Brussels yesterday morning and stayed overnight in Charleroi. I didn't think to send a galloper to advise you of our delay. I'm sorry to cause you such anxiety."
Viewing the concern on her face caused me to reconsider my decision to leave in the morning, but then she said something that nullified the thought.
"Where is Ro ... Sergeant Crawshay?"
"He's unharnessing the horses in the stable."

"There are ostlers for that task, he is here as my guest, not as a servant." Her voice held all the authority of a Chatelaine, and even in my resentment of her intimacy with Rob I had to admire how well the former housemaid had fitted into the role.

"You sounded exactly like Annette then," I said with a smile, "but Rob is a professional driver, and will permit no one to do his job, although I will pass on your instructions regarding his status to him."
Tears had formed in her eyes at my mention of Annette, and I tucked her arm in mine as we entered the chateau.

My announcement at supper that Rob and I would be leaving in the morning was met by dismay.
"You promised to be here for my birthday." Matilde complained.

"You have only spent two nights here. I was hoping you would be able to stay for a week at least." This was a more muted response than I had expected from Mimi, and it was Chloe who was the most angry and outspoken over my travel plans.

"No, that will just not do, Jacques. I gave my word you would visit Monsieur Hulot, and had expected you to visit him today. Your tardy return has made me appear a liar, and now you inform us you leave tomorrow morning. It will simply not do, you have a duty to visit Hercule Hulot, or it will make me look a fool at best or a prevaricator at worst."
Hercule Hulot was the local undertaker and embalmer with whom I had struck up a close friendship when recuperating at the chateau after being shot by Ashby de la Zouche. I knew I should make time to visit him, but I was damned if I was going to be lectured by a twenty year old female on how to do my duty.

"Our delay in leaving Brussels could not be avoided, and I will remind you the visit to the chateau was only a break in the journey to deliver Matilde and Violette. Besides which I am acting under the orders from my superiors in London." I ignored the rude noise Chloe made. "In any case, no one, not even you Chloe Renoir, has the authority to pledge the word of a Greenaway without their knowledge or consent."
Chloe sprang from her chair like a blazing eyed tiger. "A Renoir's word is as good and as binding as any damn Greenway's." She had mispronounced my surname, but not being brave or foolish enough I did not correct her mistake. "I gave my word you would visit Hercule because you owe him a visit, and much more. If it were not for him we would never have received such a good price for our diamonds. A fine friend you are to the man who made all the arrangements for buyers to view and bid for the gems."
She stood glaring at me, her bosom heaving with emotion, and I felt a pang of shame. Chloe was right, I should visit the man who did so much for me. I had a half share in the hoard of Cleopatra's Diamonds and Hercule had brokered an excellent price for those I had sold while at Chateau Blanchard.
I glanced around the table; Matilde sulky, Mimi tearful, Chloe enraged, Violette bewildered, and Rob as calm as Buddha.

"Very well, Chloe, I will not allow a Renoir be thought a liar. I shall visit Hercule first thing tomorrow morning, and leave for London the day after."
Chloe gave a smile of delight, and hugged me tightly.

"Thank you, Jacques," she whispered. "I would show my gratitude more fulsomely if I thought you would take advantage of the offer."
I made a slight shake of my head and she laughed. "That's your loss then."

"As for you, Matilde," I said. "I give my word, my Greenaway word, that I shall attend your birthday." She squealed in pleasure and threw her arms about my neck, but didn't offer any other perquisites. Mimi smiled, and blew me a kiss.
Next morning I borrowed one of the chateau's riding horses and rode into Valenciennes. I had spent a restful night, and knew not, and persuaded myself I cared even less, whether or not Mimi had spent the night with Rob in the stable.

It had been less than six months since I last saw Hercule Hulot, and during that period he had aged alarmingly. He still retained his jovial nature, which I had thought due to him marrying a pretty, lusty, young maid nearly thirty years his junior – maybe being married to a lusty young woman had also aged him?
He registered my start of surprise at his altered appearance.

"It is the effects of the canker inside me which has changed my boyish pulchritude to resemble a decrepit old man."
That he managed to jest at such a time indicates the character of the man, and why I held him in such high regard. I now understood why Chloe was adamant I should visit him.

"The physician gives me another six months of life, but if I died tomorrow I would have no complaints as to the favours the Good Lord bestowed on me when I married my dear Brigitte. She brought such happiness into my life it is a wonder la petite mort did not sooner bring me to la grande mort out of sheer delight, or with the energy expended by the number of times during the day and night I carried out my husbandly duties. She has been a Godsend, and I pray she finds someone who will love her as much as I do."
I made some banal remark about doctors being notorious for diagnosing the incorrect illness, and that he would be around for years to come.

"I know you say these things to cheer me, Jacques, but I am not distressed that my days are numbered. I have laid out too many dear friends, friends since boyhood, this past year, which has brought home to me how old I really am. Being married to a woman less than half one's own age tends to blind you to that fact. But enough of me, what of you and your adventures?"
I stayed talking to him until early afternoon. Brigitte brought in some cold meat and wine at lunch, and her red rimmed eyes indicated she was not taking the imminent departure of Hercule in the same calm manner as her husband.

"I shall be back at Blanchards later this month, and will be extremely annoyed if I find you have died in the meantime." I said facetiously.
Hercule laughed. "I shall endeavour not to anger you, Jacques; I'm told it can be fatal."

I returned to Chateau Blanchard, my mind so filled with thoughts of Hercule Hulot I completely forgot to purchase the Cambrai cheeses I always brought back from my visits to Flanders. It was only when turning over my mount to the groom at the chateau's stable I remembered the cheese. The animal I had ridden to Valenciennes and back had cast a shoe, and would require reshoeing before being ridden. No other mounts were available as they were engaged in pulling the many farm carts in use during harvest. There was nothing for it but Shanks's pony, and walk into the village of Wallers, where I knew I would be able to obtain Cambrai cheeses.
I had made my purchases in the village and was making my way homeward along the track, my mind still full of Hercule and Brigitte, when the thunder of hooves roused me from my thoughts. Looking over my shoulder I was horrified to see the black coach encountered in Charleroi bearing down on me. There was no doubt the driver was hell bent on running me down, and I threw myself desperately into the ditch alongside the track. The horses and coach missed me by inches, so close the sack of cheeses slung over my shoulder was ripped open and the contents sent rolling and bumping down the gully. The coach hurtled past me as I lay crouched in the ditch, and I glimpsed the death's-head insignia on the door, and a white face, eyes glittering with hate, at the window. The evil emanating from those eyes made me shudder. The coach disappeared, and bird song recommenced. Apart from the fact I was lying dishevelled in a ditch, and my cheeses were scattered in that same ditch, I might have dreamed the whole occurrence.

My arrival back at Blanchard's was greeted with much the same behaviour as the day before – Mimi distraught and Chloe angry. I told them of my forgetfulness in not purchasing Cambrai cheese in Valenciennes and having to walk into Wallers. I said nothing concerning the coach trying to run me down, and explained my grimed face, torn trousers and bedraggled appearance as having staggered into a ditch coming back from Wallers, after over imbibing with Hercule in Valenciennes earlier.

"Why didn't you tell the groom where you were going?" Chloe asked indignantly. "Poor Mimi was in torment when your horse was seen in the stable and you didn't appear."
I had told the young stable lad, but he must have gone off duty forgetting to pass on my message. I apologised to Mimi – again – and went into the house and cleaned up prior to supper.
Rob wasn't fooled by my story, and after I had related what had happened he asked. "Do you think they followed us here from Charleroi? Why would they do such a thing?"
I shrugged, as nonplussed as he.

Before being called for supper Francois Truffaut, the Estate Steward, drew me aside. "Milord Jacques, I need to ask you a favour."
"Ask away Francois, what can I do for you?"
He glanced about him before continuing. "This is rather embarrassing, but Marie my wife is complaining I do not possess the stamina or vigour to ... err ... satisfy her needs." I raised an eyebrow, but made a shrewd guess of what his buxom, and obviously passionate, wife's needs comprised. "Because I need to check the furnace in the drying shed at intervals during the night I do not always ... umm ... fulfil ... my obligations to the standard to which Marie expects."