The days went by as though in a dream; it was as if their past confrontations had never been. Argyle was still not well,being plagued by headaches and an aching body—his bruised and cracked ribs made him uncomfortable even when he was in bed.
In the mornings he hobbled downstairs and spent a good part of the day half-sitting, half-lying on the sofa in the parlour, propped up by an assortment of cushions, with Marguerite reading aloud from the books she had sent for until he dozed off. If he was feeling up to it, they played cards, endless games of piquet and gin rummy.
When they tired of those, Marguerite asked, ‘How about chess? I saw you play in the library, that afternoon you would not speak to me.’
‘You disturbed me. I kept thinking about you, after the drive, and when I saw you, I became tongue-tied. You made me lose my game.’
‘What fustian—you are never tongue-tied, only grumpy.’
Argyle ignored this. ‘I don’t think they will have a board here.’
‘We can send for one. And meanwhile, what about backgammon? My father taught me. I’ll wager they have a board in the tap room. I will go and see.’
‘You are not going anywhere in that indecent dress.’ Marguerite’s bosom was only thinly veiled by a transparent gauze fichu.
‘I wore this gown because you said you liked it.’
‘The fact that I like looking at your bosom does not mean I want every ruffian on this earth staring at it, too.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. It would be nice to be admired by someone else for a change. I miss myprétendants.And the tap room is always lively,enfin.’
Argyle scowled but refused to be drawn. ‘Just tell Curtis to go, will you? Please?’
Marguerite made a deep curtsy. ‘At once, Your Grace.’ She turned to go and found herself face to face with Flossie, who had just come in. ‘Have you come to supervise us, Flossie?’
Flossie put an offended look on her face. ‘I have come to ask if you wanted tea, my lady.’
‘We do, don’t we,mon cœur?But can you also ask Curtis to see if there is a backgammon board in the taproom. His Grace will not allow me to go myself.’
‘I should hope not,’ said Flossie, going out. ‘The taproom is a den of rapscallions.’
Presently Curtis appeared with a backgammon board made of rough wood. The paint on the points had faded, as it had on the draughts, but it was serviceable.
Argyle said, ‘Thank you, Curtis, this will do very well.’
He put the board on a small table, and he and Marguerite sat facing each other. Since their card games were played in an atmosphere of fun, he was astonished to discover that in this instance Marguerite was so determined to beat him that, when things were not going her way, she slammed the draughts down on the points and muttered French oaths under her breath. This amused him so much that, for the first time in his life, his own competitive spirit waned. He sat back, rolling the dice languidly, his eyes hooded but his lips curling up at the corners.
‘May I remind you, my love, that the stakes are not too high today. We are playing to pass the time, are we not?’
Marguerite lifted her eyes briefly and focused on the board again. ‘I never play backgammon to pass the time,pardieu.’
‘Yes, I noticed. You have been swearing like a trouper. Where did you learn those words—I hardly think your mother talks like this.’
‘Mais non,but I was allowed the run of the library. Pirate tales, probably,’ She eyed him suspiciously. ‘Are you letting me win?’
‘No, but you are a distraction—making me lose as you did in the library. It must be your language—or your décolleté.’
Marguerite rolled the dice vigorously.
* * *
When the weather was good, Argyle ventured as far as the small orchard behind the inn, where the landlord had set out an armchair under an apple tree. Even this small exertion tired him—nevertheless, he was getting a little stronger every day.His back straightened and his shoulders stopped slumping. He almost looked as strong and broad as before the accident.
Marguerite was discovering a side of his character she had never suspected, or, at least, never seen before—he was calm, and tender, and appreciative of anything she did for him. She saw her fear that he didn’t know how to be affectionate was unfounded and hoped this would not wear off once he had recovered completely. Meanwhile, she got her wish of getting to know him better: during the long, empty hours they told each other stories of their childhood, and described their likes and dislikes. They endlessly went over the course of their ‘courtship’, trying to explain their feelings and actions to each other. Marguerite never tired of hearing the episode of his awakening after the accident, a scene she had not witnessed.
She sat close to him, holding his hand. ‘Tell me what happened.’
‘I was in a state of semi-consciousness, everything was jumbled in my brain. I have told you before. But I had a strange feeling of…peace, as if the hurt had gone away. It must have been your presence.’
