Read Online Under a Stern Reign by Raymond Wilde - Free Book Online Page B

clear face. ‘Please, come in.’
    As Genevieve accepted the invitation she remained quiet, for there was something about the girl that fascinated her. She could hardly take her eyes from her lovely face.
    Sitting at the scrubbed table, Genevieve watched the girl fetch her a drink of milk, and kindly place a plate of bread and cheese before her too, noting how quiet the house was and sensing the girl was its only resident.
    As Genevieve enjoyed the frugal but tasty snack and cool drink she gazed at the surroundings. It was obviously not a prosperous place. The wooden floorboards were clean but loose and in need of repair, and the walls had evidently not been painted for many years. On a few hooks there were dusty traps and snares that had clearly not been used for a long time and now served as ornaments.
    She thanked the girl warmly for the refreshment and gazed at her, taken with her good looks despite her worn, woollen skirt that had been patched many times. It was probably the only one the girl had. Quietly, the girl took a mop and began cleaning the floor, but the worn skirt and blouse did not hide altogether what was obviously a shapely and beautiful body beneath. And then it dawned on Genevieve why she was so fascinated by the girl; there was something peculiarly familiar about her, like looking at herself. They could be mistaken for sisters or cousins, Genevieve realised. They had the same soft features, the same light blonde hair, and the same pale blue eyes. Her figure, slim and graceful, was like hers too. Even her voice had the same soft ring. Genevieve felt a deep fondness for the girl.
    â€˜Why is it so quiet here,’ she asked, still watching the girl. ‘There’s not a soul around. Do you live here all by yourself?’
    â€˜I do, yes.’ The girl stopped mopping, and with an innocent smile turned to Genevieve. ‘Many have left this area, with it being so close to the Tranville chateau. The word is that the revolutionaries could call on the count at any time, and who knows what would happen to him, or to anyone thought to be a friend to him.’
    It was true, it dawned on Genevieve. She had been so lost in her friendship with Elise and life at the chateau that she hadn’t really noticed the gradually thinning local population.
    Why was her guardian’s home so empty? It had not seemed so at first, when she arrived there. But where were all the servants? She ran through those remaining in her mind; the elderly cook, two old maids that doubled as chambermaids, the old man she occasionally saw walking horses early in the morning... so few for such a large place. There was a coachman too, but even he was aged. Why, the place was almost empty apart from these ageing, quiet spectres.
    And what of the revolution that was tearing up the country and that had taken her family? At the chateau it seemed not to be going on at all. Within the sturdy old building there was hardly ever mention of it, neither from her guardian or Elise.
    The fear of it, if it existed, could only be apparent in the emptiness of their world and the absence of those who might otherwise share it. Since the visit of Rodolfo, the count had entertained no other guests, save Madame Coubette.
    The girl’s large eyes sparkled brightly and her face glowed pink. Genevieve gazed at her mouth, her teeth pearly white and neat, and when she talked she would occasionally moisten her lips with a darting glide of her tongue.
    â€˜I am alone now,’ the girl went on. ‘My husband left me not long ago. This place was his, and he left it to me. So, I suppose I should be grateful to him for that. Anyway, he drank too much, and he said I didn’t love him enough. He didn’t think there was any future for him here. He said he might come back one day, but I doubt it.’
    Pity for the girl suddenly mingled with Genevieve’s affection. ‘But you’re so young to be on your own,’ she said. ‘I