The Lady and the Unicorn by Tracy Chevalier Read Free Book Online

what would be offensive to Papa. They looked so worried that I couldn't help laughing.
Oncle Léon frowned at me. ‘Claude, you really are a very naughty girl.’ He sounded less stern this time — more as if he were trying to placate a little lapdog.
‘Oh, I know. And what about you, Monsieur — do you think I'm a very naughty girl?’ I said to Nicolas. It was wonderful to be able to see his handsome face.
I didn't know how he would answer, but he delighted me by saying, ‘You are certainly the naughtiest girl I know, Mademoiselle.’ For a second time his voice touched my maidenhead, and I felt wet there.
Oncle Léon snorted. ‘That's enough. Claude, you must go now. Your father will be here soon.’
‘No, I want to see the picture of my mother. Where is it?’ I turned to the drawings and pushed them about the table. They were a jumble of ladies and Le Viste banners and lions and unicorns.
‘Claude, please.’
I ignored Oncle Léon and turned to Nicolas. ‘Which one is it, Monsieur? I would like to see.’
Without a word he pulled a drawing from across the table to me.
I was relieved to see that Maman was not so pretty as me in the drawing. Nor was her dress so fine as mine, but much plainer. And the wind wasn't blowing through the drawing — the banner wasn't rippling, and the lion and unicorn sat tamely rather than standing rampant as they did in mine. In fact, everything in it was very still, except that Maman was pulling a necklace from a casket held by one of her ladies-in-waiting. I didn't mind now that Maman was in the tapestries as well — the comparison favoured me.
But if Oncle Léon had his way neither of our faces would remain. I would have to do something. What, though? Although I had threatened Léon with repeating his words to my father, in truth I knew that Papa wouldn't listen to me. It was terrible to hear Maman and me referred to as thorns, but Léon was right — Maman had not produced an heir, for my sisters and I were not boys. Every time Papa looked at us he was reminded that all of his wealth would one day go to my husband and son, who would not carry the Le Viste name or coat of arms. Knowing this had made him even colder with us. I knew too from Béatrice that Papa did not share Maman's bed.
Nicolas tried to save Maman and me. ‘I will only change their faces if Monseigneur asks me to,’ he declared. ‘Not if you do. I make changes for the patron, not the patron's merchant.’
Oncle Léon glared at him, but before he could respond we heard footsteps in the hallway. ‘Go!’ Léon hissed, but it was too late for me to escape. Nicolas put his hand on my head and gently pushed me down so that I was kneeling. For a moment my face was close to his bulging groin. I looked up and saw him smiling. Then he shoved me under the table.
It felt even colder and harder and darker under the table this time, but I wouldn't have to endure it for long. Papa's feet came straight to the table, where he stood next to Léon, with Nicolas to one side. I sat looking at Nicolas' legs. He seemed to be standing differently now that he knew I was there, though I could not say what exactly was different. It was as if his legs had eyes and were watching me.
Papa's legs were like himself — straight and indifferent as a chair's. ‘Now, the designs,’ he said.
Someone was scrabbling among the drawings, moving them around the table. ‘Here they are, Monseigneur,’ Nicolas said. ‘As you see, you can look at them in this order. First the Lady dons her necklace for the seduction of the unicorn. In the next she plays the organ to get the unicorn's attention. And here she is — feeding a parakeet — and the unicorn has moved closer, though he is rampant and his head is still turned away. He is almost seduced, but needs more temptation.’
I noted the pause before Nicolas said ‘feeding’. So, I have become Taste, I thought. Then taste me.
‘Then the Lady weaves a crown of carnations in preparation for a