Chapter 4: William the Damned by Lynette Ferreira

THE TABLE IS sumptuously decorated and groaning under the weight of all the food. Francois stands up politely when Susanna enters the room and once again, Susanna feels self-conscious at the way he looks at her. The way his piercing eyes seems to look right through her and into her soul. She does not want to seem overly eager to marry him, he might decide against it. She also did not want him to think her foolish and immature.

He immediately notices the necklace around her neck and smiles pleased. He wanted her to feel welcome and the only way he knew how was by spoiling her. Before she arrived, he had no doubt he wanted to marry her, but it was for his own selfish needs, because he needed an heir. However, when he saw her this afternoon, he undoubtedly fell in love with her and now he felt insecure within himself. When she looked at him and smiled, he felt overwhelmed.

Susanna eats her food silently, while her mother keeps the conversation flowing politely with Francois. Susanna again hears her thank Francois for inviting them to his beautiful house and she feels awkward because she is embarrassingly aware everybody knows why she is here. She is like a horse for sale. Francois decided he wanted her. He wanted to marry her, although he knew they had no financial means, although he never met her before. She will be his third wife, and obviously, he still had no children. Both his previous wives died tragically and it would be impolite to ask the cause. If he now decided he does not want her anymore, she and her mother will be destitute. When her mother informed her she had arranged this marriage to Lord Francois, she had no choice but to agree. He is twenty years her elder, and at thirty-eight he seems a lot older than Susanna does at eighteen.

After dinner, Francois turns to her. “Mademoiselle, would you mind joining me for a walk outside?”

Susanna smiles graciously up at him and then slides her hand in through his extended arm.

When they get outside and walk down the stairs, the night air is cool on her shoulders and the fragrance of many flowers fill the air.

They walk along a lighted pathway away from the château and neither one of them talk.

Francois is wrestling with his emotions and must fight the feeling of wanting to take her into his arms and to kiss her all over. By nature, he is an impatient man and he wanted to make her his completely, without any delay. He also has a strange suspicion William was involved in the tragic accident of The Majestic. When he looks at Susanna, he knows William would have saved her when he saw her. He knew William would have been attracted to her.

They walk around the garden and then slowly they walk back to the château. Susanna feels uncomfortable, she needs to say something, someone needs to say something, but she waits for him to talk first, yet he does not. She feels nervous and uncomfortable. She usually does not do most of the talking in a conversation, but the other person would talk incessantly and now Francois does not say a word. Could it be he feels she is not worthy of an intelligent conversation?

When they get back to the stairs, Francois stops and then he turns to her. He takes her hand into his and then looking deep into her eyes, he brings her hand up to his lips. She feels with shock his warm lips on her skin.

“Thank you for the necklace, it was very generous of you.” Susanna smiles graciously.

“Do not mention it, it is a welcoming gift and may I say it suits you perfectly.”

Self-consciously Susanna drops her eyes and then softly she excuses herself, “Good night my lord.”

Once again, she sees a flash of a frown across Francois’ brow and she decides again, he surely does not like her. He is frowning because he finds her too childish at eighteen. He seems so mature at thirty-eight and she would never be able to please him.

Francois remains in the hall, watching Susanna as she goes up the stairs to the landing. His love for her was abrupt and now when he looks at her he could not help but contemplate if she could ever feel the same.

FRANCOIS MAKES SURE they spend every waking moment together. She starts to feel more and more comfortable with him. They laugh and talk. He loves the way she listens attentively when he talks. Sometimes Susanna still finds him frowning when he looks at her, especially when she laughs or displays her joy exuberantly. This makes her feel wretched and she decides to start acting more mature, to be more gracious and reserved in her actions, perhaps that would make him want to marry her.

A few weeks later, walking through the manicured gardens with Francois, the night sky moonless, he turns to her unexpectedly and puts his hands on her waist. Francois could not resist the temptation any longer and he feels relieved when she does not resist.

He says softly, his eyes looking intensely into hers, looking for answers to unasked questions, “Although we never met before you came here, I fell in love with you at once. You are the perfect wife for me.”

Susanna smiles up at him, relief washing through her. Up until this moment, she thought he was only being polite. Those little frowns meant to her he was feeling remorse at promising to marry her before he met her. That perhaps he felt he could not go through with it.

He leans down to her, softly kissing her on her forehead and then smiling down at her, he slowly brings his lips closer to hers.

For an instant, the blood in Susanna’s veins go freezing cold, but then when he kisses her, she moves her hands up his arms, over his tense muscles and lets them rest against his shoulders.

Francois groans softly and then pulls her deeper into him. Susanna succumbs to him, but he does not part her lips the way William did. Susanna stops her thoughts shamefully.

Francois presses his lips tightly to Susanna’s and then after a while, he lets her go slowly.

Smiling down at her, he asks expectantly, “Would you ever grow to love me?”

“I …”

“Lord Francois, Lord Francois.” The urgent call echoes toward them and Francois turns around frustrated.

“The stables are on fire, my lord,” the servant says out of breath from a short distance away.

Francois hurriedly excuses himself from Susanna. She hears him curse under his breath as he runs after the servant to the stables.

Susanna walks back to the château slowly, her thoughts overpowering. Could she grow to love Francois? She could imagine being married to him. He has made her laugh during the last month. He has been courteous, treating her with respect, only holding her hand and softly pressing his lips to them. This was the first time he took her in his arms and kissed her. Admittedly, she thought of William and his total mind-numbing kisses, but surely, Francois is a gentleman. He would only kiss her in that provocative way once they were married. He is not wild and uncultivated like William.

When she walks up the stairs to the doors of the château, she feels as if someone is watching her. She turns and looks out into the night. She can only see the smoke coming from the direction of the stables and hear the screams of the servants as they attempt to put out the fire.

AT BREAKFAST, THE next morning, Francois tells Susanna with relief, “We managed to save most of the stables. Luckily none of my horses was killed.”

Susanna asks concerned, “Do you know how the fire started?”

“It seems a gaslight was left unattended and was knocked over. The hay took flame immediately.”

Susanna looks horrified. “It could have been so much worse. I am glad you managed to rescue all the animals.”

“Yes, a little rebuilding and it will be as if it never happened.”

Anne walks into the room, and then Francois explains to her after she asks what the commotion was the night before.

Susanna eats in silence until she feels Francois’ eyes resting on her, and she looks up at him smiling pleasantly.

Looking at her thoughtfully, he says, “I have arranged for a ball here at the château next week and I hope you will enjoy it. It is to introduce you to all my friends.”

Anne replies, “It sounds fabulous.”

Susanna says softly, self-consciously, “You did not have to hold a ball in my honour.”

Francois smiles pleased. “Yes, I had to. I have arranged for the dressmaker to meet with you later today if that is acceptable.”

“Yes. Of course, it is.”

Francois had decided he was going to move their marriage date forward and the quicker, the better. He knows he loves her. He has loved her from the first moment he saw her even if at times Susanna was a bit distant, her thoughts in places far away from him. Perhaps because he is so much older than she is, but he knows love does not come around very often and he knows in time she will grow to love him as much as he loves her. He did not want to wait any longer and he was going to make the announcement at the ball.

THE WEEK RUSHES past in a whirl. Susanna meets with the dressmaker every day and she has chosen a champagne coloured satin material. They designed the dress to be low in the front and then they will decorate the bodice generously with pearls. Susanna knows dark blue materials complement her skin tone and eye colour perfectly, but the champagne coloured material called to her.

The dressmakers work endlessly day and night and each time the dress falls over Susanna’s shoulders and shimmers in the sunlight falling through the window in her room, her excitement mounts. Every day her dress comes closer to completion and she wants it to be perfect.

She looks forward to the ball impatiently and when Francois sees her exuberance and joy, it makes him adore her even more.

He has been married twice before, both dying tragically. He knows the rumours going around all point to him as causing each of their deaths and he has never attempted to make these rumours disappear. The first time he got married, it was to spite William, and the second time it was for convenience, because he wanted an heir, very much like his marriage to Susanna, before he fell in love with her.

Thoughts of Susanna keep Francois awake at night. When he looks at her, he feels his heart swell in his chest and she seems to make breathing difficult when she smiles up at him. He would spoil her and indulge her, her every whim forever.

THE NIGHT OF the ball, the French servant girl, helps her to get dressed. The girl chooses a new neck choker Francois had bought for her, but Susanna shakes her head no. She wanted to wear the first necklace Francois gave her because Susanna chose this piece of material to compliment the necklace perfectly.

The servant girl neatly pins some of her hair up, but then leaves locks hanging down Susanna’s shoulders and her dark hair is in sharp contrast with the light material. The girl powders her arms and shoulders, although the red welts have healed completely.

When Susanna walks down the stairs, Francois is waiting for her at the foot and she sees him visibly catch his breath. She smiles down at him and when she slides her arm into his outstretched arm he gently squeezes her to him. “You look utterly breath-taking.”

Coyly she smiles up at him. “Why, thank you, my lord.”

They turn to the room and then he escorts her into the grand hall.

He proudly introduces her to everybody they walk past. He feels immensely happy and he wants to show her off as his own.

Francois and Susanna open the dance floor and as they twirl around in the steps of a waltz, Susanna cannot help but feel imprisoned by Francois’ eyes as he holds hers captive. They move across the floor effortlessly. He leads her, his strong arms holding her tightly to him. She feels the muscles in his arm stir when he turns her.

He smiles down at her when the music ends and he bows, taking her arm into the crook of his arm and then he leads her off the dance floor.

Susanna walks with him and then stands beside him while he talks to his neighbour. They talk about the King and the eminent war against England.

Later, while she is dancing a complicated dance, with many steps and moving on to a different dance partner every few twirls, Susanna turns visibly pale and suddenly her dress is too tight.

Before her stands William, only the air separating them.

Her mind spins, but instead of running in the opposite direction, when the steps of the dance lead her toward him and into his arms, she follows willingly.

She returns his smile and he whispers softly near her ear, “Told you, you could never run away from me.”

Susanna looks over William’s shoulder to where Francois is standing and she immediately notices the cold glare in his eyes as he looks across the ballroom at her and William. Thankfully, the steps of the dance move her away from William.

When the music stops, Susanna walks toward Francois, smiling brilliantly. She did not want him to see the impact it had on her when William suddenly appeared in front of her. With a deep frown creased across his brow, Francois takes her hand gently and places it on his arm determinedly, so she has no choice but to remain by his side. Susanna does not dance again, but she finds herself looking for William and it is with unexplained sadness she realises he is not in the room anymore.

Just when Susanna decides it would be the appropriate time to excuse herself and to go up to her room, Francois smiles down at her. He looks into her eyes inquiringly and putting his arm around her waist possessively, he leads her up onto a little stage.

The servant calls for attention and then Francois announces to the room Susanna and he will be married in the coming summer.

He bends down to Susanna, saying softly, “I wanted to surprise you. I hope you agree?”

“Of course,” Susanna agrees softly, smiling up at him.

Yes, she does want to marry Francois. Yes, William’s sudden appearance has caused a smidgen of sudden doubt. If she had a moment to think about it rationally, she would realise she wants to be with Francois. She has grown to love Francois, although she came here under unfortunate circumstances. She loves Francois. She does.

When the guests have all departed and everybody congratulated them excitedly, Susanna excuses herself and moves away from Francois’ side.

He comes up behind her and grasping her arm softly, he turns her to him. His voice brusque, he asks accusingly, “Do you know William?”

“No., how could I?” Susanna replies defensively. She has started this lie, months before, and now it trapped her, growing larger and larger.

Francois says accusingly, “The way he looked at you, he seemed to know you.”

“No, I have never met him before tonight.”

“Did he introduce himself to you?”

“Yes, of course.” Susanna’s mind is working overtime and she realises William obviously had to introduce himself to her, because how else would she know whom he was. Was Francois trying to catch her lying? Does he know something? Maybe, he knows who attacked The Majestic. Could it be?

Without another word, he abruptly pulls Susanna closer to him. He brings his head down to her and then he kisses her possessively. He has never kissed her in this way. Parting her lips roughly, he pulls her closer to him. His hands move possessively down her back. She pushes hard with her hands against his chest and mumbles pleadingly for him to stop.

He lets her go suddenly and there is a vacant look in his eyes.

The servants pretend to carry on with their duties, but Susanna can feel the discomfort in the room.

“I am sorry, Susanna,” Francois says softly, apologetically. Then he adds warningly, “I love you and you belong to me.”

“Of course,” Susanna says softly, keeping her eyes lowered.

She curtseys and then she turns away from him. Slowly she walks up the stairs, while tears burn the rims of her eyes.

How dare he?

Although she came here to marry him, without knowing him, did she not grow fond of him? Now he humiliated and dishonoured her in front of the servants.

Francois watches her slowly ascending the stairs. He feels remorse for embarrassing her in front of the servants, but sometimes he could not control his anger and rage, his jealousy and his possessiveness.

When Susanna eventually gets into bed, she falls asleep fitfully.

She dreams of William.

He holds her in his arms, while he softly runs his hand over her hair. He lies close to her and he feels so real, she imagines she can smell him and feel the cold, solidity of him pressed snugly against her.

Continue reading Chapter 5/10

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