The Launching of Roger Brook

'Then go downstairs now and get some fresh air. Be back in an hour.'

With an awkward curtsey and a servile grin that showed the gaps between her yellow teeth, Mire Sufflot left him. Then he tiptoed across the soft Aubusson carpet to the foot of the bed.

Athenais lay propped up against her pillows. She was awake and fully conscious. Her bright blue eyes seemed larger than ever, but her face smaller, under the great coif of hair that was incongruously piled up on her head. It was only with difficulty that he repressed a start of dismay as he saw the ravages that the disease had made on her lovely features. Great suppurating sores blotched her forehead, cheeks and chin, and she was dabbing at them with a soiled cambric handkerchief.

As she saw him her eyes flickered, then she threw up her hands and pressed them against her face.

'Don't do that!' he said softly. 'For goodness sake be careful. It's absolutely imperative that you should not touch those sores.'

Slowly she lowered her hands and said in a husky voice: 'What brings you here?'

'Monseigneur desired me to bring the papers on which I was working last winter to Paris for him. I arrived but half an hour ago, and words cannot express my distress at the condition in which I find you.'

'How come you in my room?' she asked dully.

'I am here to make better arrangements for your attention, Mademoiselle. How long is it since that old woman washed you?'

'She has made no attempt to do so; and I would not let her lay a finger on me if she tried.'

'That I can understand; yet you must be washed by someone. I see your sheets need changing too, and the room smells like a charnel house. But I learn that you are past the crisis, so at least we may thank God for that.'

'I care not any longer. I have no wish to live now that my looks are ruined.'

'Oh, come!' he pleaded with a smile. 'Your sores are only just beginning to heal, and if you do not interfere with them they will not mark you. But to start with, you must have clean linen and fresh air, instead of allowing your room to remain a forcing-house for the pestilence.' As he spoke, he turned away and walked across the room.

Her husky voice came after him: 'What are you about to do?'

'Open two of your windows,' he replied.

'Leave well alone,' she said sharply. 'You are no doctor, and have no right to alter matters here. A draught might kill me.'

'Nay. Fresh air never killed anyone,' he said over his shoulder. 'And I pray you, Mademoiselle, not to make things more difficult for me. My only desire is to serve you and see you well again.'

Drawing back the heavy curtains he opened two of the windows and let in the cool night breeze; but he stoked up the fire before returning to her bedside.

As he approached she said, suddenly: 'You look different. You have grown; and yes, you are dressed like, like…'

'Like a noble,' he supplied the word for her with a smile. 'Fine feathers make fine birds, do they not, Mademoiselle? But would you have had me always remain a pettifogging clerk?'

'I am indifferent to what you are or what you may become,' she replied coldly.

He bowed slightly. 'That, Mademoiselle, is my dire misfortune, but you may depend upon it that I shall never cease to be your most humble and obedient servant.'

Turning away from her he quietly left the room, went downstairs, found a footman, and ordered fresh sheets and warm water to be sent up. When they arrived on the landing he carried them into the room and, setting them down, looked through the drawers of a chest until he found a shift of fine linen. Having torn it into strips he picked up the bowl of water and walked over to the bed.

'You are not to touch me,' she whispered, her eyes distended with dislike and fear. Then as she saw that he intended to ignore her words she wriggled down in the great bed and drew the sheets up to her chin.

Dipping the linen in the water he began to cleanse the sores upon her face, taking the greatest care not to disturb any of the scabs that were beginning to form round their edges. After a little she eased herself up and let him bathe her neck and hands without further protest. When he had done he found a comb, undid her hair, combed and brushed it and did it up again in two long plaits.

'That is better,' he said at last. 'And now you must get out of bed for a few minutes while I change the sheets.'

'I'll do no such thing,' she croaked with a flash of anger. 'I'd rather die than let you see me naked.'

'Be sensible,' he laughed. ' 'Tis better that I should do it than that old Woman who reeks of brandy and doubtless carries the pox herself. Here's your robe-de-chambre. Slip it on, then curl yourself up in the duvet. I promise I won't look while you are doing so.'

'I won't,' she gasped.

He shook his head. ' 'Tis that or I'll have you out of that filthy bed as you are. The choice lies with you, Mademoiselle.' 'You swear you will not look?' 'I swear it.'

He walked away and turned his back. Two minutes later he caught a muffled whisper: 'Monsieur Breuc, I am at your disposal.'

When he looked he saw that the duvet now formed a big ball in the middle of the bed with only one small pink foot showing from it. Slipping his arms under the bundle he lifted it with ease and carrying its precious contents over to the fire deposited it gently in a chair. Then he changed the sheets and pillow- cases, carried the bundle back again and said: 'You can get back into bed now. I am going behind the screen.'

Having given her a minute or two he emerged to find her sitting up as he had first found her. 'Now,' he said, 'I trust you will at least give me the satisfaction of admitting that you feel more comfortable.'

'I do, Monsieur,' she replied, a shade more graciously. 'And—and, I thank you for it.'

He was just about to say something else when the door opened and Mere Sufflot came in.

Momentarily disconcerted he looked at her in silence for a few seconds, then he said: 'Please go downstairs again, and ask someone to have hot water placed in my room.'

The old woman gave her awkward bob and bustled out again.

Turning back to Athenais he once more walked up to the side of her bed and spoke with all the feeling that he could command.

'Mademoiselle. The last .thing I wish to do is to tire you with unnecessary talk; but there is something that I must say to you. Something that I have been waiting for nearly a year to say. It concerns the day on which your horse ran away and, through my fault, you were thrown into the river. You were quite right to be angry with me for the liberty I took. I realised that afterwards and I meant to tell you how sorry I was for what I had done; but before I had a chance to do so you had left for Paris. I wish now to offer you my humblest apologies and to assure you that I would never have done such a thing, had I not been near insane from love of you.'

Her blotched face remained quite expressionless, as she said slowly: 'You did not kiss me because you loved me. 'Twas out of hatred. 'Twas because I had scorned your advances. You wished to humiliate me in return and took a mean revenge.'

'Nay, Mademoiselle, I protest,' cried Roger. 'I have loved you since the very first moment that I set eyes on you. And 'twas love that drove me mad that day.'

'Would you then claim that you love me still?' she asked, her eyes over-bright from a return of the fever.

'Indeed, I do!'

'You lie! 'Tis that you have wormed yourself into my father's good graces, and fear that I yet may tell of your assault upon me. You seek my pardon only to protect your place.'

'That is not true! I care not a fig if I remain in your father's service, or leave it! Except as it affects my chances of seeing you. 'Tis love alone that made me hasten here at breakneck speed, and 'tis love alone that makes me plead for your forgiveness.'

'I'll not believe it!'

'I swear it!'

Her eyes glittered with a feverish light. 'Then kiss me again! Now! This very moment; hideous as I am and ridden with disease!'

Without the slightest hesitation he stooped and placed his mouth against her dry and burning lips. He knew full well the danger that he was running but he would have walked through fire to prove his love for her, and he made himself keep his lips pressed against hers for a long moment.