The Black Swan

“It is stimulating talking to you, Lucie. You have such an air of reserve... almost a meekness. Yet you are in fact a spirited young lady and it excites me to talk to you. By the way, have you seen any more of those people?”

“People?”

“Those two you met on the boat and had coffee with a few days ago.”

“No.”

“Well, they were hospitable to you. Would you like me to ask them here?”

“That would be kind of you. I am sure they would enjoy that very much.”

“We’ll ask them to lunch. After all, you must return their hospitality, you know.”

I was pleased at the prospect of seeing the brother and sister again. It had been a very pleasant encounter. They had become so friendly in such a short time; and I liked to feel that I had friends close by.

“No more trouble with Diable?” he said.

“No. I have been very cautious and haven’t ventured too close.”

He gazed across the lake and just at that moment the two swans came into sight.

“They look so graceful,” I said, “so utterly beautiful.”

“You would not believe, would you, that there could be so much venom in such a magnificent creature,” he said. “Never forget that you must be watchful of him, for he can suddenly attack. He vented his spite on one of the maids a few years ago. She lost the sight in one of her eyes.”

“How dreadful! Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“You were unprepared. But remember it for the future. Swans... like some people... are not all they seem.”

“Well, I hope there are not many around like Diable.”

He leaned toward me and took my hand. “Be on the watch, Lucie, for the Diables of this world,” he said.

I was puzzled and he continued to smile at me.

“I shall always be at hand,” he went on, “whenever you need me.” He had said that once before. I supposed I should be grateful to him. He had certainly saved me from the swan; he had made me welcome at his chateau; and now he was prepared to entertain two strangers, merely because they had shown me some hospitality. Yes, I should be grateful, but I could not throw off this feeling of revulsion. It was with great pleasure that I rode over to the Fitzgeralds. Sir Robert was now a frequent visitor at the chateau. He had postponed his return to England, and the reason was, of course, Belinda.

He told us he was known as Bobby which seemed to suit him. The more I saw of him, the more I liked him. There was a certain innocence about him-rare in a young man-and I subconsciously felt he would have no defense against Belinda’s wiles.

She would marry him, I was sure, for that was what she had made up her mind to do When I arrived at the, Fitzgeralds’ house, Phillida was out, but Roland was in and clearly delighted to see me.

“How very nice of you to call,” he said. “We were talking of you only this morning. Phillida was wondering whether we dared send a note to the chateau asking you to come over for lunch.”

“What a coincidence!” I cried. “For I have an invitation for you. Monsieur Bourdon wondered whether you would care to come over to the chateau for lunch.”

“That would be delightful. I feel sure Phillida would love it. As for myself, I should enjoy it very much.”

“Then that’s settled. Would tomorrow be all right?”

“We have no engagements here, so I can assure you that it will be very convenient for us. Do sit down. I’ll ask Angelique to make some coffee.” I sat down and we talked. He thought that his sister should stay a little longer, he said. “Phillida is getting restive though. She won’t admit that she is ill.”

“Well, she is not now, is she?”

“Oh no. She has recovered. But I think she needs to be in this climate a little longer.

She has this weakness, you know.”

“She seems so full of life.”

“I know. But I have to watch over her.”

“She is fortunate to have such a devoted brother.”

“I am the fortunate one.”

“Well, let us say you both are.”

The coffee arrived and while we were drinking it he said, “You haven’t told me much about yourself. Are you feeling better?”

I hesitated. Then I said, “What happened to me is not easily forgotten.”

 “I understand, and you must forgive my speaking of it. Please do not talk of it if you would rather not. I think a great deal about all you went through. That... and the aftermath... must have been terrible for you.”

“Yes, it was.”

“The trial... and everything. The part you were called upon to play in it ... to come face-to-face with ...”

I nodded.

“I am upsetting you,” he went on. “I just wanted you to know I understand... and sympathize. But we should not be talking of it now. It does no good.”

“No, it does no good. Oh, listen, that must be Phillida.”

It was. She came in, flushed and laughing, and when she saw me her eyes lighted up with real pleasure.

“Oh, how wonderful to see you! We were talking of you.”

“Yes, I told her,” said Roland. “It was only this morning. What do you think? We are invited to luncheon... invited to the chateau!”

“Oh... really?”

“And I, your brother, have accepted on your behalf. Was that right?”