Read And Only to Deceive for Free Online Page B

was not going to tea with, in her words, “a nice English lady.”
    I have had the good fortune always to have lived in lovely homes. Large rooms, beautifully furnished, with fine collections of art adorning their walls. Madame du Lac’s house, however, was opulent beyond anything I had seen in a private residence. Her quarters surpassed even Buckingham Palace, although that may be more of a comment on the queen’s taste than on Madame du Lac’s. She received me in a sittingroom whose white-paneled walls and ornate ceiling were embellished with gilt flowers, cupids, and caryatids. A large mirror hung above a marble fireplace on which an enormous golden clock rested between two towering golden candlesticks. The parquet floor shone brightly, and the chairs placed around the room were upholstered in a pale, icy blue, all their wood gilded. Curtains in the same blue silk were tied back to reveal long windows. Madame du Lac seemed to belong in another time. Dressed in a flowing tea gown, she ushered me into this pleasantly bright room herself, motioning me toward one of the delicate chairs.
    “Sit if you can, child, though how you can manage anything in that corset is a mystery to me.” I smiled politely, not having the nerve to say anything. “I’m afraid you shall find my manners somewhat lacking. I am old enough to disregard them. If that makes you uncomfortable, I am sorry for you.” She clapped her hands, and two tiny dogs appeared and jumped into her lap.
    “I am perfectly comfortable, thank you,” I lied, still smiling. One of the dogs began nipping at the lace on her gown, and the other followed his lead.
    “Caesar! Brutus! Down!” she cried, removing them both from her dress and putting them on the floor, where they sat nearly motionless, staring up at her. “Do you have dogs?”
    “I believe there are some hunting dogs on my husband’s estate. I have not been there.”
    She did not pursue the subject. “I have been interested in speaking to you since seeing the lovely portrait Renoir painted for your husband. Very romantic, I thought.”
    Had I not been so tightly laced, I would have squirmed in my seat, believing that I was once again caught having to pretend to have had a deep attachment to my poor husband. “He was a kind man,” I said noncommittally, wondering how soon I could leave without insulting her.
    “You must have to suffer through conversations like this too often.
    He was a man whom everyone admired. How terrible for you. You didn’t know him long, I believe?”
    “No.”
    “Did you know him at all?”
    I froze, unsure what to say.
    “Don’t be alarmed, chérie . I am not judging you. Like yours, my husband died soon after our marriage, and I was plagued by his friends. They all assumed I knew him as well as they did, when in fact I rarely conversed with him. The marriage had been arranged by our parents. We had nothing to do with the decision. After he died, it was quite embarrassing and very difficult to keep up the appearance of having been close to him.” Before I could begin to formulate a response to this, Madame du Lac pulled a tasseled bell cord; almost instantly, a servant in full livery that must have been designed to match the room appeared. “I drink only champagne. You do not mind?”
    “Of course not.” I accepted a glass from her man and started to drink it slowly. Feeling a bit braver, I added that I had never before been served champagne for tea. This comment earned a hearty laugh from my hostess, and I joined in her merriment. The wine loosened my tongue, and soon the whole story of my marriage poured out. Madame proved to be a refreshingly sympathetic listener.
    “My greatest difficulty has been just what you said, pretending to know him better than I did. I know that as time passes, people will stop mentioning him, and therein comes my problem. The more I learn about Philip, the more interesting he becomes to me. I made no effort to know him before his death,