Chapter 004

My father had come out of his room. He looked frail, and I was filled with the urgent need to protect him. If the Baron slighted him in the smallest way, I should tell the man, what I thought of him.

The Baron was already in the room with the painted ceiling, and with him was a woman. I was struck immediately by her appearance. At first, I thought she was a great beauty, but I realized as the evening progressed that she owed that impression to her gestures, her clothes, and how she wore them, to her poise and sophisticated manners.

She was the sort of woman who could put on beauty as one might put on a piece of jewelry. It was an illusion, but a clever one. Her mouth was too large, her eyes too small and her nose too short for beauty, and yet, she exuded that soignée, chic and stunning impression.

The Baron turned to greet us. "Ah," said the Baron, "here is the artist. You are indeed welcome, sir, and we are honored to have you with us. Nicole, this is Monsieur Kendal Collison and his daughter, Mademoiselle Collison. you know for what purpose? Mademoiselle Collison and I have

met already. Oh, briefly. Too briefly. My dear Monsieur and Mademoiselle Collison, allow me to present Nicole."

I was looking into that beautiful face. The small dark eyes were friendly, I thought, and if she made me feel gauche and unattractive, that was not her fault. I did not dislike her as I did to the Baron.

"Bertrand, I think we should go to dinner," said the Baron.

"Yes," Bertrand replied and gave Nocole his arm. The Baron took mine.

I was startled. I had not expected this formality, and I found proximity to the Baron something which repelled me.

Oddly enough, I think he knew that I was shrinking from him and disliked laying my hand even on his coat sleeve.

He looked over his shoulder at my father. "Alas, Monsieur Colison," he said, "we have no lady for you. Well, you are the guest of honor, so that is your compensation."

~~~~~~~~

Dinner was an elaborate meal, more so than it had been on the previous night, but not nearly so enjoyable. This was due to the Baron's presence.

"My father was a collector, and he taught me to follow in his footsteps. I have always had a strong appreciation of the creative arts, whether it be in literature, sculpture, music, or painting. I have always believed in absolute honesty regarding them." he gasped and continued, "A work of art must please me, I do not like it because I am told i must like it, I like a work of art for what it means to me, not for the signature in the corner if it is a picture, or on the cover of a book if it is literature."

I couldn't help applauding this sentiment. I would remind him of it if he were to discover me, a woman, had painted his portrait, that would be after he had expressed approval of it, of course.

"You are quite right, Baron," said Nicole "I could not agree more."

He looked at her mischievously. "In your case, Nicole, you might be wiser to take note of the name of the artist because, my dear, I'm afraid you lack the judgment to decide for yourself."

Nicole laughed. "The Baron is right, You know," she said, looking at me and my father. "You will find me a complete ignoramus. One virtue I have, though. I am aware of theirs. Now this is a virtue, is it not?"

"A very great one," said the Baron. "Ah, if only everyone had your good sense."

"But who is to say whose judgment is to be repeated?" I asked. There is a saying in my country that "Good taste is what I have. Bad taste is what everyone else has who does not agree with me."

"I see we have a philosopher here," said the Baron, fixing me with his cold gray eyes. "Answer that if you can, Nicole, for I cannot attack such logic."

Then he talked to my father. We would start the portrait the following morning. He was anxious to get it completed quickly and could not stay long at the castle. He had business in Paris.

"A work of art cannot be hurried," I said.

"I see now why you have brought your daughter with you," retorted the Baron. "She is going to keep us all in good order."

"Oh, Kate is very useful to me." said my father. "I have come to rely on her."

"Everyone should have someone on whom he or she can rely. Don't you agree, Nicole? Mademoiselle Collison? Bertrand?"

Bertrand said that it was comforting.

Nocole said it was necessary.

I said I thought that one should be self-reliant if that were possible.

The Baron explained how he admired the miniature we did of the Graf von Engheim. "I saw it when I was in Bavaria. It was what decided me that I would ask you to execute this commission for me," he mentioned.

I felt excited by the talk of art and his obvious knowledge, and eager to learn more about him. I knew he was arrogant, rich, and powerful, that he had always had his way and planned to go on doing just that. He was knowledgeable about art and had a real feeling for it, it would be almost impossible to deceive him, I was sure. I was eager to discuss how to handle the impending difficulty with my father, and the thought of it beginning the next morning filled me with apprehension.

We rose from the dining table, we returned to the room with the painted ceiling, where liqueurs were served. I found the drink sweet and pleasant.

After a while, The Baron said, "Monsieur Collison is tired, I see. Bertrand, you will conduct him to his room. Mademoiselle Collison, I see that you are not tired. You would, I am sure, prefer to remain and chat awhile."

I agreed, and Bertrand escorted my father to his room, leaving me alone with the Baron and Nocloe. The Baron remarked, "Tomorrow, I shall show you my treasures. Have you explored the castle yet?"

"Bertrand has been very kind. He has shown me a little," I replied.

The Baron snapped his fingers. "Bertrand has not the feeling for the castle, wouldn't you say so, Nicole?"

"Well, it is yours, isn't it? He, like the rest of us, is but a guest here."

The Baron patted Nicole's knee rather affectionately. I thought he must be on very familiar terms with her.

"Well, Mademoiselle Collison," he continued, "you know how it is. This is my home, built by my ancestor, one of the first the Normans built in France. Never make the mistake of thinking we are French. We are not. We are the Norsemen who came to France from the magnificent fjords."

"The French were a very cultivated people when the savage Norsemen came into their longships looking for conquest," I reminded him.

"You see how mademoiselle Collison corrects me? Nicole."

"I am delighted that she put forward such a good case against you, Rollo," Nicole exclaimed.

Rollo I thought. So that is his name?