Free King of the Castle by Victoria Holt Page B

begun to shine with hope and so would betray my excitement. If, I told myself, he realized how very eagerly I desired this commission he might continue baiting me.
    He had seen.
    “I was going to suggest… but then you may have decided that you would prefer to leave today or tomorrow.”
    “I have come a long way, Monsieur Ie Comte. Naturally I should prefer to stay and carry out the work providing it could be done in a congenial atmosphere. What were you going to suggest?”
    “That you restore one of the pictures and if that is satisfactorily accomplished you continue with the rest.”
    I was happy in that moment. I should have been relieved, of course, for I was certain of my capabilities. The immediate future was taken care of. No ignoble return to London! No Cousin Jane! But it was more than that. An inexplicable feeling of joy, anticipation, excitement. I could not explain. I was certain that I could pass this test, and that meant a long stay at the castle. This wonderful old place would be my home for months to come. I could explore it, as well as its treasures.
    I could continue my friendship with the Bastides. I could indulge my curiosity concerning the inhabitants of the chateau.
    I was insatiably curious. I had known this since my father had pointed it out to me and deplored this trait;
    but I could not stop myself wanting to know what went on behind the facade people showed the world. To discover this was like removing the film of decay from an old painting; and to learn what the Comte was like would be revealing a living picture.
    “This proposition seems to appeal to you.”
    So once more I had betrayed my feelings, something I
     
    prided myself on rarely doing. But perhaps he was particularly perceptive.
    “It seems a very fair one,” I said.
    “Then, it’s agreed.” He held out his hands.
    “We will shake on it. An old English custom, I believe. You, mademoiselle, have been kind enough to discuss the problem in French;
    we will seal the bargain in English. “
    As he held my hand his dark eyes looked into mine and I felt decidedly uncomfortable. I felt suddenly innocent, unworldly, and that was, I was sure, how he intended I should feel.
    I withdrew my hand with a hauteur which I trusted hid my embarrassment.
    “Which picture would you select for the … test?” I asked.
    “What of the one you were examining when I came in?”
    “That would be excellent. It is more in need of restoration than anything in the gallery.”
    We walked over to it and stood side by side examining it.
    “It has been very badly treated,” I said severely. I was now on firm ground.
    “It is not very old a hundred and fifty years at most and yet…”
    “An ancestress of mine.”
    “It is a pity she was subjected to such treatment.”
    “A great pity. But there was a time in France when people like her were submitted to even greater indignity.”
    “I should say that this picture has probably been exposed to the weather. Even the colour of her gown is faded, though alizarin is usually stable. I can’t see in this light the true colour of the stones about her neck. You see how darkened they have become. The same with the bracelet and the earrings.”
    “Green,” he said.
    “I can tell you that. They are emeralds.”
    Tt would be a wonderful picture when restored. That dress as it must have been when it was painted, and the emeralds. “
     
    “It will be interesting to see what it looks like when you have finished with it.”
    “I shall start at once.”
    “You have all you require?”
    “For a beginning. I will go to my room for what I need and get down to work immediately.”
    “I can see you are all eagerness and I am delaying you.”
    I did not deny this and he stood aside for me as I passed triumphantly from the gallery. I felt I had come satisfactorily through my first encounter with the Comte.
    What a happy morning I spent working in the gallery! No one disturbed me. I had returned with my tools to