Marianne wondered, not without some private satisfaction, if that were a legacy of the sword thrust she had put through his chest; yet even that seemed poor consolation for the disappointment of finding him still alive. For a moment, she studied this man, whom she had once loved, as dispassionately as if he had been a stranger. She had believed in him as a god, had sworn joyfully to love, honour and obey him… It was the first time that she had been alone with him since that terrible wedding night. So many things had changed. Then, she had been a child to be coldly sacrificed, a helpless victim in the hands of a heartless and unscrupulous man. Today she had the Emperor's love for strength and protection. This time, it was she who would call the tune.
Francis, she saw, had altered very little except, perhaps, for the cynical curl which had replaced the twist of boredom at the corner of his full mouth. Lord Cranmere was still a handsome man; the thin scar down one cheek only served to add a touch of tragic glamour to the nobility of his perfect features. Remembering how she had loved him, Marianne was amazed to find that she felt nothing in his presence beyond a dislike amounting to loathing. Seeing that he did not seem anxious to break the silence but was apparently engaged in earnest contemplation of the gleaming toes of his highly-polished boots, she decided to take the initiative at last. She wanted to get it over quickly. His very presence in that confined space was painful to her.
'You wished to speak to me,' she said coldly. 'Say what you have to say. I have no wish to prolong this interview.'
He turned his head and smiled at her under drooping eyelids.
'Why not? Surely this is a most affecting moment: a husband and wife together again after such a long absence – especially after believing themselves parted for ever? My dear Marianne, you should be glad to be reunited with the man you loved – for you did love me, my dear. You were quite devoted to me on our wedding- day. I can still see your great, swimming eyes when the dear old Abbe —'
Marianne had had enough.
'That will do!' she said sharply. 'You are amazingly impertinent. Have you forgotten the charming circumstances attending our marriage? Do I have to remind you that you had no sooner sworn to God to love and cherish me than you set about gaming away not merely the little you had left but also the considerable fortune which I had brought you – and for which you had married me? And as if that were not enough, you dared to stake the innocent love I bore you on the turn of a card, you staked my innocence and my virginity, my honour itself. You have the audacity to talk about the night when you destroyed my life as if it were merely another of those delightful escapades you men discuss over your brandy!'
Lord Cranmere shrugged contemptuously, but his eyes shifted to avoid Marianne's sparkling gaze.
'If you had not been such a little fool, that's all it would have been. It was you turned it into high tragedy.'
'Indeed! And what should I have done, pray? Welcome your substitute with open arms?'
'You need not have gone so far as that. Any woman worth her salt would have been able to hold him off while leading him on. The fool was mad for you —'
'Rubbish!' Marianne said briskly, repressing a sudden pang at this reminder of Jason Beaufort. 'He had not set eyes on me before that day.'
'Do you think that is not long enough to desire a woman? You should have heard him sing your praises, your grace and charm, the splendour of your eyes. 'If sirens existed,' he said, 'Lady Marianne must be their queen…' Good God!' Francis exploded with sudden violence, 'you could have done what you liked with him! He might well have given the lot back to you in exchange for one hour of love! For one kiss, even. And instead of that you enacted a Cheltenham tragedy and sent packing the man who held our whole fortune in his hands.'
'Our fortune?'
'Very well, your fortune, if you insist. All the more reason for you to fight for it, try and redeem some remnant of it at least…'
Marianne was no longer listening. What was the use? She had no illusions about Francis's character and it was not surprising that he should sink to the depths of reproaching her for failing to trick Jason out of his winnings. She stopped listening and recalled instead those last moments with Jason in her room at Selton. She had not given him that kiss, but he had taken it all the same and Marianne discovered to her astonishment that, even after all this time, she could still taste the sweet violence of it, strange and overpowering in spite of the anger which had filled her at the time. It was her first kiss, something not easily forgotten.
She had closed her eyes for a second, remembering, but now she opened them. What was Francis saying?
'I protest you are not even listening!'
'You have ceased to interest me. I will not waste my time pointing out to you how an honourable man might have acted in such circumstances, but if it concerns you, I will say I am amazed that you should dare to approach me. I believed that I had killed you, Francis Cranmere, but whether or not the devil has looked after his own, to me you are dead and will remain so.'
'I can see that might be more comfortable for you, but the fact remains that I am alive and intend to remain so.'
Marianne turned away with a shrug.
'Then keep away from me and try to forget that Francis Cranmere and Marianne d'Asselnat were ever made man and wife. That is, if you wish to continue, if not alive, then certainly at liberty.'
Francis was looking at her curiously.
'Indeed? Do I detect a threat, my love? What do you mean by that?'
'Do not pretend to be more stupid than you are. This is France and you are an Englishman, an enemy of the Empire. I have only to point you out, to say the word, and you will be arrested. And once arrested, it would be child's play to see to it that you disappeared for ever. Do you think the Emperor would deny me your head if I were to ask for it? Be a sportsman, for once, admit that you have lost and do not try to see me again. You must know that you cannot harm me.'
She spoke quietly but firmly and with immense dignity. She did not relish making a parade of her power over the Master of Europe but in the present instance it seemed best to lay her cards fairly on the table at the outset. Let Francis vanish from her life for ever and she was sure to forgive him one day. But instead of meditating on her words as might have been expected, Lord Cranmere only burst out laughing, and Marianne found her fine confidence wavering a little.
'What have I said to amuse you?'
'My dear, you are truly priceless! I swear you think yourself the Empress. Boney has not married you, you know, but that wretched Archduchess.'
Francis's mockery, combined with the contemptuous English epithet for Napoleon, pricked Marianne's temper.
'Empress or no,' she ground at him through her teeth, 'I will show you I am not afraid of you, and that no one insults me with impunity.'
She leaned forward quickly to call Arcadius, meaning to send him for one of the police officers whose black figures, clad in long overcoats and beaver hats, with stout truncheons on their wrists, could be seen dotted about the gaily-dressed crowd. But before she could open her mouth, Francis had grasped her by the shoulder and thrust her roughly back against the squabs.
'Stay where you are, you little fool! Besides, you are wasting your time. No one can get in or out of the carriage in this crowd. I cannot leave you, even if I would.'
This was true. The crowd surged so thickly around them that nothing was visible beyond a sea of heads. Even Arcadius had been obliged to retreat for safety to the box alongside Gracchus. In the distance, rising above the murmur of the crowd, was a sound like thunder, mingled with the elusive strains of music. Perhaps the procession was approaching at last. But for Marianne, all the interest of the day had fled. She felt stifled, although she could not have said exactly why. It must have been the poisonous presence of the man she hated.
She shook off the hand that still rested on her shoulder and gave him a glance filled with loathing.
'You may as well wait. When you leave this carriage it will be for Vincennes or La Force.'
But Francis only laughed again and again Marianne felt the cold pricking on her skin.
'If you were as much a gamester as I am,' he said with disquieting coolness, 'I would lay you odds it will be nothing of the kind.'
'What is to prevent me?'
