Part 8 (1/2)
She obeyed him, stepping back onto the throne and falling naturally into the pose she had a.s.sumed before.
”That is it! Perfect! The light has faded, however. For Heaven s sake to-morrow try to come as early as possible. The days are so short.”
There was a pause before she replied : ”I have not ... said that I can ... come tomorrow.”
”But you have to! I want you!”
”I think perhaps this time of day would be ... impossible.”
”For goodness sake, girl, have you got yourself tied up in some ridiculous employment? Whatever you are earning I will give you more. ”
”It is not a question of money.”
”Then what?”
Astara thought frantically what she would say.
”I have ... certain important commitments,” she answered eventually.
”Commitments? What commitments? Nothing at the moment is more important than that I should get this picture right!”
Astara did not answer for a moment. Then she said: ”Your picture is for the book.”
”It will have to be engraved which will not detract in any way from what I am trying to express. It will also he exhibited.”
”Where?
”In Paris.
Astara was surprised. ”In Paris?”
”Does that astonish you? Well, I will explain, although it is doubtful if you will know what I am talking about.” Astara felt angered by his insinuation that she was so stupid so she said nothing and he went on: ”Next year the French are forming a Societe des Giographes and one of the first books which they have decided to publish will be mine. The pictures I have drawn especially for it will be on show.”
Vulcan spoke casually in a manner which told Astara he did not think she would understand for a moment what he was saying, but she did.
Just before they” had come to England her uncle had taken her to a dinner-party given by some of the leading intellectuals in Paris, and among them had been a very distinguished man who had known her father.
They had talked of the discoveries that were being made all over the world and he said ”If only your father were alive, Miss Beverley, I know he would have been interested in learning that next year I am founding a Societe des Geographes and starting off with an exhibition which will be contributed to by almost all the explorers who are still alive.”
”Papa would have been thrilled!” Astara said.
”He would certainly have contributed to my exhibition and I should have asked him to give quite a number of lectures. ”
The gentleman to whom Astara was speaking had paused before he continued: ”Your father always made everything he described so interesting. If only he had put down on paper a great deal more of his travels than we have in our files.”
”Papa always found it a nuisance to have to write down what he felt and thought about the places he visited.” Astara had smiled before she added: ”I think perhaps he was a rather selfish explorer. He did it for his own pleasure and did not worry about posterity.”
She thought now that Vulcan Worfield was different. He at least had completed a book and she knew, that she was exceedingly curious as to what it contained.
At the same time she did not wish to say too much or make him suspicious as to who she might be.
She did not know why, but she suddenly decided she would keep her ident.i.ty a complete secret from him.
He had not opened the letter that she had written to him on her uncle s behalf. He obviously had no idea that Sir Roderick was in residence at Worfield House.
Something in the manner in which he was concentrating on his painting told her that he was a man who gave himself whole-heartedly to whatever he was occupied on at the moment.
There was an interruption; someone came into the room and while Astara heard them and was conscious they were there she did not turn her head.
”I am back, Master.”
A man spoke in a strange sing-song voice.
”I expect my model would like some tea”
”Yes, Master. Rose petal, or Jasmine?”
Astara saw the smile on Vulcans lips as for a moment he looked towards her.
”Which is your choice?” he asked. ”Or would you prefer the heavy brew of coa.r.s.e leaves which the English call tea?” ”I would like Jasmine, please,” Astara replied.
”Strange,” Vulcan remarked. ”I have never before met a woman who did not ask for rose petal.”
He looked at his picture and went on: ”But then you are different very different and as I have told you already I am curious.”
”You have told me too that I am Aphrodite and surely you remember that the G.o.ds were always punished for being too inquisitive.”
”So you know your mythology!” he said. ”I am becoming more and more intrigued, Aphrodite, if that is your name.” ” Shall I say I will ... answer to it?”
”What woman could resist being mysterious?” he asked. ”However, if you want to play games I am quite prepared to do so-as long as you will pose for me, although Heaven knows how I can reward you for doing so.”
”What did Moll receive?” Astara asked with a smile. ”Four pence an hour,” Vulcan replied. ”And may I add she thought it considerably more than she was worth.”
”I am afraid I am rather more expensive.”
”What do you intend to ask of me? Half of my Kingdom? As you can see, there is not much of it.”
”I will think of something, ” Astara replied, ”and may I say that your Kingdom, as you call it, is very attractive. I wondered why it was so tidy. Now I know who was responsible.”
”You mean Chang. I cannot imagine what a mess I would be in without him.”
”Did you bring him here from China?”
”Yes. He had attached himself to me and chose me as his Master. I really had no say in the matter.”
”I believe the Chinese are excellent servants.”
Vulcan laughed.
”Chang is much more than that. He is my companion, my friend, and at times regrettably like the old Nanny who fussed over me when I was a child.”