26、Things have changed 今时不同往 ...
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Fiona was awakened by the caress of sunlight in the morning, startled and sitting up in a panic, looking around and taking a childish gasp of breath.
In the haze of her dreams just now, she felt her mother roughly shaking her shoulders again, ordering her to traverse through the lingering darkness to fetch water from the river in the icy morning air.
A child, when rudely awakened from a deep slumber, instinctively trembled in terror; and if she failed to get up in time and leap out of bed, she would be scolded with her ear pulled for being a lazy wench, sometimes even get a thrashing, which was enough to make a child subconsciously equate sleepiness with guilt.
But her slender fingers soon touched the velvet bedclothes and soft feather pillow beneath her, and through the gauzy curtains she saw broad daylight.
Yes, she was now a Marchioness, able to sleep as long as she wished, never having to force herself to fight drowsiness and fear of the dark, and head out to the forest and fields at the crack of dawn anymore.
Thinking of the noble and kind-hearted Marquis, she embraced Annabelle from the pillow and happily skipped down the stairs to seek out her new beloved relative.
"Good morning, miss!" The plump, middle-aged housemaid Susan, directing the cleaning in the hall, greeted Fiona with a beaming smile.
"Morning to you too, Susan!" The spotless, mirror-like hall floor almost made the little elf stumble, but she cheerfully waved her arms and steadied her running body like a bird learning to fly flapping its wings.
"Where is Monsieur the Marquis, please?" she called out joyfully.
"His lordship has just gotten up too, now reading the newspaper in his living room, Miss Fiona."
As Fiona pushed open the grand door to the drawing-room, she froze. The chirpy smile that had been on her face, resembling that of a little alouette, became rigid.
The Marquis was standing in the centre of the spacious room, with his arms outstretched, his manservant helping him change. As she burst in, he had just taken off his dressing gown, revealing his muscular chest covered in bushy hair.
Seeing the girl standing still and staring at his lordship, the servant stooping at the side cleared his throat awkwardly.
The Marquis simply gave a light chuckle and turned to Fiona, saying, "You've come at the wrong time, Mademoiselle."
The little girl felt her face inexplicably flush all at once, hastily closed the door and backed out.
It was quite some time before the Marquis emerged, dressed in a yellow and white striped riding suit, looking fresh and lively. He held Fiona in his arms and sat with her at the dining table.
She could smell the lavender fragrance from the man's wig, which made her feel incredibly at ease. She fiddled with his copper cufflinks for a while, and then tugged at the pleats on his collar.
"It seems you've adapted well. It's time to send you to school, my little angel." Halfway through breakfast, he suddenly said to her in his deep, mellifluous voice.
"To school?" Fiona repeated, puzzled.
"Don't you want to go to school?"
She played with her cutlery, hesitatingly saying, "I don't understand. Isn't it good to just stay with you like this?"
"You can meet some girls your own age at school," he chuckled softly from behind her, "It must be very boring to always be with only a middle-aged man like me."
Fiona shook her head and leaned back, tilting her head up hard to look at him from under his chin. The Marquis was amused by her childishness and lightly brushed her nifty tiny nose with his hand, saying merrily, "It's settled then. You can spend these next few days preparing at home."
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Edith lifted the carriage's curtain, and in the light cast by the streetlamps, she saw Andre standing at the doors of the H?tel de Brionne.
His expression was cold as he spoke a few words to the soldier by his side. The soldier stooped slightly, answering with words that seemed to displease Andre, for she could see his face darken and his lips move more vigorously, perhaps uttering some rough words. Finally, without turning back, he reached out and took the document carefully handed to him by the soldier.
Watching him so smoothly and naturally accepting obedience from others, Edith couldn't help feeling a sense of detachment. As he briskly walked towards her, she did not lean out to greet him, but instead lowered the curtain.
Margot's exhortation lingered in her mind: deep down, she still hoped to prove to herself that who she loved was still the little painter Andre of the past.
He climbed onto the carriage and, upon seeing Edith inside, did not exchange his expression for a docile smile. He merely nodded slightly at her and sat down beside in silence. This time, he did not lean close to her in relax as before, but rather bended over and crossed his hands in front of his knees, staring fixedly at the opposite wall of the carriage as if forbearing intense nervousness.
Edith felt the oppressive atmosphere in the carriage and chose not to look at the person next to her. Instead, she turned her head towards the window and watched the streets gradually left behind by the carriage.
Looking at the pale cobbles on the ground illuminated by the moonlight, she casually spoke of her recent outing with the Dantons, and intentionally brought up Raphael's misgivings with a joking tone, trying to sound out Andre's reaction.
Andre suddenly put on a stern face and interrupted her coldly, "Stop talking, Edith. You know I dislike Saint-Clemont."
Edith had never heard him speak to her in such a condescending tone and was stunned for a moment before retorting angrily, "You're really getting to be a bossy big shot, starting to look down on everyone around!"
"What's the problem?" Andre snorted. "Whether it's Danton's coarse and indulgent passion, profligate hedonism, Desmoulins' pretentious words and out-of-line jokes, or Saint-Clemont's annoying indecision and aristocratic melancholy, all of them disgust and disdain me! I can't see why you like hanging out with that group so much."
Hearing him belittle her friends as worthless like this, Edith was even more astonished and infuriated.
She sneered, "What, now I have to ask for your approval to make friends, Citizen Quenet?"
"I don't understand how you can love me and at the same time like him, like them, Mademoiselle!" he suddenly shouted bitterly. "We have nothing in common. Danton and his followers have long abandoned virtue. To ally with the aristocrats, they have thoroughly learned the corruption of the nobility very well! How can people without morals deserve liberty?"
"I do love the self-denial and gravitas in you, but that's because they are a part of you, so I love them. But you cannot demand everyone to adhere to this Stoic virtue! Don't you think you are too conceited now?"
Andre looked ahead and muttered in a low voice, "Can't do it? Then just wipe out."
The gloominess in his tone sent shivers down Edith's spine. She abruptly pushed him away and moved closer towards the window, "How did you become like this, Andre?"
"You don't understand." He shook his head, still without looking at her, his voice deep and despondent, "You don't understand anything."
Edith was completely provoked by this attitude of his, "Yes, I don't understand anything! You didn't even give me a chance to understand! If I can't see the more complex and grand aspects of your story, it's because you all don't allow me to see them! And in the end, you are accusing me of being ignorant and mock how narrow my world is?"
Before she finished her words, she felt a sudden soreness in her eyes, so she pounded hard on the carriage frame and screamed forward, "Stop, stop!"
Before the carriage came to a complete halt, Edith jumped out in a hurry and almost tripped over her own skirt. As soon as she steadied herself, she lifted the hem of her dress and ran into the darkness ahead with indignant fast steps.
Andre's arm lifted slightly from the seat, but didn't stop her in the end.
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On this dreary evening, Edith sat on her couch, flicking through the journal restlessly. Suddenly, a timid knock came from the outer room, like a puff of feeble cough.
Standing outside the door was a young woman dressed modestly, with a plump figure yet swollen cheeks and poor complexion. She wore a large gray merino cloak and a dark blue old-fashioned hood that covered her entire head, with a few strands of messy blonde hair poking out. Despite being wrapped up so tightly, the woman occasionally pulled the hood forward to further conceal her face.
Seeing her evasive behaviour, Edith couldn't help but become wary.
The woman lifted her red, puffy eyes to Edith, her voice choked with sobs, as if she had just been crying: "Citizeness Travis, do you remember me? I'm Helene Saint-Clemont. My maiden name's Saint-Clemont. We four used to play together when I went to my uncle's summer house as a child. You surely remember, don't you?"
Edith tried to recall the summer days she had spent with the Saint-Clemont siblings during her childhood. It seemed that there were indeed a few days when a young lady who was visiting the castle had stayed with them.
However, in her vague memory, it was a pampered and arrogant aristocratic girl who barely spoke to her, making it really hard to connect that Helene with this destitute woman before her. Nevertheless, upon closer inspection of her features, Edith could see many similarities with Charlene.
Edith took a step back and gestured for the woman to come inside.
As soon as Helene entered the room, she eagerly rushed over and grabbed Edith's both hands, "Citizeness Travis, please save my husband! He is now put in the Conciergerie. They're going to send him to the guillotine! He hasn't done anything. They wouldn't take one's life just because he comes from a noble family, would they? We've been living very poorly these past few years. Nothing was left to us. We've never been involved in any conspiracy! You have to believe me. We just returned to Paris this month. My husband had to come here to settle some issues. It's something about our property. We had just arrived when they took him away. Someone is holding a grudge against my husband because of his past identity.①
"I've already turned to Cousin, but he doesn't have that much influence. Charlene suggested that I come here to find you. Raphael wasn't willing for me to come. Please, I beg you, ask Citizen Quenet to pull a few strings in the Committee for my husband. I won't be able to survive without him!"
Helene wept and held onto Edith's hand on the couch, repeatedly mentioning Charlene and Raphael's names, talking about the few days of childhood memories they shared, and crying about her unfortunate love.
Even though Edith was initially hesitant to approach Andre due to their recent argument, her sympathy now overtook any doubts she had.
She reassured Helene, "Don't worry, I'll talk to him when he gets back. If your husband is truly innocent, he'll definitely be alright."
She was indeed not worried about the outcome of the matter - Andre almost always responded to the wrongfully accused who sought his help. He would never sit idly by.
Shortly after Edith saw Helene off, Andre hurried into the living room. His face was paler than usual, looking out of spirits. He didn't take off his coat, presumably returning just to do some simple preparations for the upcoming meeting.
Since their quarrel a few days ago, they hadn't made up yet, so Edith felt a little awkward standing before him. As he adjusted his bow tie in the mirror above the fireplace, she briefly explained Helene's situation to him.
But when Andre finished listening, he only responded coldly and decisively, "I refuse."
Edith gave an incredulous laugh and repeated, "You refuse?"
"I'll do whatever I can to help the innocent, but I won't serve the family of Saint-Clemont!" he replied in a contemptuous tone.
Edith naturally thought he was retaliating for their argument two days ago, and her anger immediately flared up, "Are you now going to turn a blind eye to an innocent woman just because of your baseless jealousy, Andre?"
"Is that so? I don't think she's that innocent!" Andre sneered. "She should count herself lucky she didn't come to me directly, or I couldn't guarantee that I wouldn't personally send her husband to the guillotine!"
The undisguised disgust in his eyes mixed with the smile on his lips, giving his whole face a terrifying look of an intimidating avenger.
Hearing him speak such merciless words with that youthful, poetic voice, Edith widened her eyes in disbelief, "Andre! Where have your compassion and virtue gone?"
"Pardon me, I cannot commiserate a Saint-Clemont. I'm powerless in this matter." He seemed focused on adjusting his neckwear, with a flat tone.
"You now begin to disregard right and wrong too and let hatred cloud your vision just because of a noble surname?"
"I've told you, I'm powerless."
"I truly can't recognise you anymore, Quenet!" Edith raised her voice.
Andre suddenly pulled hard at his hair with one hand and shouted with a desperate tone that seemed to come from the depths of his heart, almost startling Edith: "Ah, please don't all hold onto me, leave me alone, allow me to rest for a moment like everyone else!"
It seemed as though he had expended a great deal of energy in saying this, for he was hit by a wave of dizziness. He covered his eyes with one hand, staggered back two steps, and fell into the armchair.
Seeing him like this, Edith couldn't help feeling guilty, but her pride wouldn't allow her to approach him.
Seeing that he kept his hand on his eyes, his body leaning to one side and still, she hesitated for a moment, and then turned to walk out of the living room.
Margot happened to be walking to the living room door at that moment. She took a quick glance at the man inside, then pulled her sister worriedly and whispered, "Edith? Get Andre to come to the dining room and eat something before he leaves."
Edith hesitated for a moment before turning around, but the person who had fallen into the chair abruptly stood up, grabbed the file pocket off the coffee table.
He looked like a total stranger now. There was no trace of the discomfort or despair from before on his face, only a cold and almost cruel demeanor that had never been revealed to her in their alone time.
Andre paused for a moment in the same spot, then strode past her and Margot without a glance, heading towards the door. Edith felt for a moment that she had never known him.
作者有话说
第26章 Things have changed
