Merrick - Anne Rice [114]
“I have no doubts or regrets, Louis,” she told me. “Mine is a great and unusual power. You’ve given me a reason to use it. You speak of a soul that may be in torment; indeed, you speak of long, long suffering, and you suggest that we might somehow bring that soul’s torment to a close.”
At this point, his cheeks colored deeply and he leant over and clasped her hand again tightly.
“Merrick, what can I give you in exchange for what you mean to do?”
This alarmed me. He should not have said it! It led too directly to the most powerful and unique gift that we had to give. No, he shouldn’t have said it, but I remained silent, watching these two creatures become ever more enthralled with each other, watching them quite definitely fall in love.
“Wait until it’s done, and let us talk then of such things,” she said, “if we ever talk of them at all. I need nothing in return, really. As I’ve said, you are giving me a way to use my power and that in itself is quite enough. But again, you must assure me, you will listen to my estimation of what happens. If I think we have raised something which is not from God I will say so, and you must at least try to believe what I say.”
She rose and went directly past me, with only a faint smile for me as she did so, into the open dining room behind me to fetch something, it seemed, from the sideboard along the distant wall.
Of course, Louis, the consummate gentleman, was on his feet. Again I noticed the splendid clothing, and how lean and feline were his simplest gestures, and how stunningly beautiful his immaculate hands.
She reentered the light before me as if reentering a stage.
“Here, this is what I have from your darling,” she said. She held a small bundle, wrapped in velvet. “Sit down, Louis, please,” she resumed. “And let me put these items into your hands.” She took her chair again, beneath the lamp facing him, the precious goods in her lap.
He obeyed her with the open radiance of a schoolboy before a miraculous and brilliant teacher. He sat back as though he would yield to her slightest command.
I watched her in profile and nothing filled my mind so much as pure, utter, base jealousy! But loving her as I did, I was wise enough to acknowledge some genuine concern as well.
As for him, there was little doubt that he was completely as interested in her as he was in the things which had belonged to Claudia.
“This rosary, why did she have it?” asked Merrick, extracting the sparkling beads from her little bundle. “Surely she didn’t pray.”
“No, she liked it for the look of it,” he said, his eyes full of a dignified plea that Merrick should understand. “I think I bought it for her. I don’t think I ever even told her what it was. Learning with her was strange, you see. We thought of her as a child, when we should have realized, and then the outward form of a person has such a mysterious connection with the disposition.”
“How so?” Merrick asked.
“Oh, you understand,” he said shyly, almost modestly. “The beautiful know they have power, and she had, in her diminutive charm, a certain power of which she was always casually aware.” He hesitated. It seemed he was painfully shy. “We fussed over her; we gloried in her. She looked no more than six or seven at most.” The light in his face went out for a moment, as if an interior switch had shut it off.
Merrick reached forward again and took his hand. He let her have it. He bowed his head just a little, and he lifted the hand she held, as if saying, Give me a moment. Then he resumed.
“She liked the rosary,” he said. “Maybe I did tell her the prayers. I don’t remember. She liked sometimes to go with me to the Cathedral. She liked to hear the music of the evening ceremonies. She liked all things that were sensual and which involved beauty. She was girlish in her enthusiasms for a long time.”
Merrick let his hand go but very reluctantly.
“And this?” she asked. She lifted the small white leather-bound diary. “A long time ago, this was