C4 Chapter 4

First of all, Elisabet was shown into her own room, which was simple but nicely furnished. The walls were painted blue, which might have made it look cold had it not been for the white voile curtains and the rose-patterned blanket on the bed. The door mirrors were decorated with beautiful, quiet colours; she wondered who had painted them.

They inspected the kitchen where she was to prepare food for herself, and for Karin only in an emergency. They also went into the drawing room and dining room, and finally upstairs.

“This is where she lives,” the woman whispered. “She’s raving mad! It will be wonderful to get away from here!”

This certainly sounded promising.

There was a heavy smell of perfume over everything. They knocked on the door and a light voice called: “Come in!”

They entered a charming little sitting room, beyond which they could see a very feminine bedroom.

A woman got up from the dressing table, which was full of jars, bottles and pretty tins. She was short, dressed in the most exquisite, but very old-fashioned, clothes. She must have had them since her youth. There was something about the woman that made Elisabet feel pity for her. Perhaps it was all those small, charming bows in her greying hair or the expression on her face. A confused kindness, a youthful anticipation, a void, and an immense distance from the world.

“Here’s the new girl, Miss,” the woman shouted with her hollow voice, as if she assumed that everybody was as hard of hearing as herself. “And now I’m leaving!”

Oh no, Elisabet thought, but the door had already closed behind her. She was alone with her patient.

The woman gazed at her with curious, raised eyebrows, and a feminine, theatrical posture.

Elisabet curtseyed: “I’m Elisabet Paladin of the Ice People and I’m looking forward to being of assistance to you, Miss Karin.”

“Yes, Vemund, the dear boy, said that you would come. That’s wonderful because that old woman was awful. You and I are of the same age, and you’re not as attractive as me so I don’t have to fear rivalry.”

She giggled but not malevolently. It was a naïve and direct statement, which did not offend Elisabet. Undoubtedly, Miss Karin had been a very sweet person in her younger days and you could still detect a certain beauty in her marked face.

“Would you please lift my hair at the neck, it keeps falling down all the time!” the woman ordered, sitting at the dressing table once more. To her great relief, Elisabet could not see the white powder that she loathed anywhere. No, perhaps it had not been in vogue thirty years ago. Besides, Karin had not taken any notice of Elisabet’s hair, which every other woman would have done.

She felt immensely relieved.

“Your hair is very beautiful, Miss Karin. You’re very blonde.” She did not mention that the silver-white streaks made it look even fairer.

“Do you think so?” Miss Karin cooed. “I must look nice for when he turns up this evening. He said he would come.”

Elisabet was just about to say Vemund Tark but checked herself in time. “Young Mr Vemund?”

“No, not him!” she laughed coquettishly. “Although he’s been awfully sweet to me. He was the one who bought this house for me because the previous place I lived in was terrible. I had to share a room with a lot of awful people; I wasn’t allowed to use my own things and there was no bathroom, and every day I told them that I wasn’t used to being treated like that, and that I had influential friends and if those stupid people couldn’t find a proper place for me to stay, they would just have to wait and see. And they did because then young Vemund came and fetched me and he was very strict, and they bowed and scraped and he brought me here. I hope he hasn’t fallen seriously in love with me because that wouldn’t be appropriate, it really wouldn’t! Oh, dear, have I got a pimple on my chin?”

Elisabet replied: “Let me see ... No, I don’t think so. Right now, I don’t see any spot.”

“It might be working its way up under the surface. Young people like us are prone to pimples.”

Elisabet’s face was expressionless. “We can always place a mouche there. That would look nice a little to one side of your chin. Have you got any?”

Miss Karin searched among her tins. “Here!”

Elisabet took out a small black velvet heart and placed it low on Karin’s cheek.

Karin said: “See? It looks very fine! Fancy you being so much wiser than that stupid woman! And the one I had before. She never understood what I meant when it came to makeup. Both of them lacked culture!”

Elisabet had been told that Karin was not allowed to go out. This was a pity because her skin was so pale and the weather was nice. Anyway, there was no need to go against orders on the first day. Actually, Elisabet could not see what was supposed to be wrong with Karin. She was certainly unrealistic but nevertheless a woman of her era: constantly focused on her appearance and nothing else. Coy, affected and with a yearning to seem youthful – which was quite a common trait among the upper classes in the 1700s. French rashness was the vogue – even if Karin tended to exaggerate youthfulness. Nevertheless, she was a kind and sweet person, and many acted far more stupidly.

It was not until the patient was to retire for the night that Elisabet understood that there was something very wrong with her.

Lying in her fine bed among silk and lace sheets, Karin seemed to be immensely dejected and disappointed.

She whispered: “He didn’t come. I don’t understand. He said he would come! I’d made myself look so nice. I looked extra nice tonight, didn’t I?”

“Absolutely. He’s bound to come tomorrow,” Elisabet said soothingly; she suspected that Karin’s thoughts did not stretch beyond the next day. For a moment, it seemed that the truth showed in Karin’s eyes. Then she brightened up in a smile. “Do you think he will? Something might have prevented him. Finding lilies-of-the-valley at this time of the year isn’t that easy, but he promised. Don’t you agree that lilies-of-the-valley are the most suitable for a bridal bouquet? They’re so dainty, a symbol of innocence.”

“Yes, they are,” said a slightly confused Elisabet. “But you haven’t told me who you’re waiting for, Miss Karin.”

“Haven’t I? Don’t you know anything? Has nobody told you the most important thing? My fiancé, of course! He’s so handsome! We’re to get married in a few days’ time.”

“I see.”

Now the tragedy was beginning to dawn on Elisabet. A fiancé ... who had passed away? Which Karin’s heart, let alone her brain, could not fathom.

A grief stronger than anybody can bear ...

Perhaps Ingrid was right. This was her grief! She had called it an unknown moment. Anyway, she could not have known anything about Karin Ulriksby. An unbearable grief, and Karin would not understand that he was gone. Day after day, she waited for him, keeping herself young and beautiful as best she could. Evening after evening, she was disappointed. She waited for her fiancé, who would never come and who was buried ...

He was the one she looked nice for.

Elisabet said a quick goodnight, asking Miss Karin to call her if there was anything she needed. Then Elisabet would come immediately.

When Elisabet lay in her bed in the house, she could not help thinking. It’s Vemund Tark’s fault that tragedy struck Karin ... Then she could not have been sick for all that many years. What could Vemund have done? The first suspicion was obvious: had he killed her fiancé? Vemund had said it was involuntary. Yes, that was obvious, and it was why Karin might suffer from an abysmal dislike of the Tark name. If she got to hear it, of course. Her faculties must not be allowed to awaken because then she would remember that her fiancé was no more and that a Tark had killed her happiness. This was a reasonable explanation. A sensitive, ageing woman could have reacted so forcefully that she would seek refuge in a fantasy world.

Elisabet would never have reacted like that. Most other women would have passed the test. But Karin Ulriksby was a sensitive little creature. She had undoubtedly been waiting for a proposal for many years. And finally, when she got one ... she had lost him. Vemund Tark showed that he was considerate when he took such good care of her. Karin Ulriksby was not made for a life in horrible mental hospitals, asylums as they were called. His conscience must have been pitch-black. It was strange that Karin, who was a relative, did not know his name. Surely she must know that there was a Tark by the name of Vemund? After all, it was an unusual name! There must be a reason why Karin did not know.

“Elisabet!” came a shout from the first floor.

She put on her dressing gown and hurried upstairs.

“You’ll leave your door half-open, won’t you ... so that you can hear if he knocks on the door? Because he might have run into highwaymen or a wheel might have loosened itself. There can be many reasons.”

Elisabet replied: “I sleep very lightly, Miss Karin.”

This calmed her. “I’m so glad that you’ve come, Elisabet. You’re so sweet.”

Elisabet said: “You and I will get along fine, Miss Karin,” as she arranged the blanket more neatly on the bed. Her heart bled for this woman whose face and hair were beginning to show the signs of age. Her features were beginning to sag, and the wrinkles were creeping up on her. Karin’s body was not what it had been. One day it would dawn on her that she was old and that her life had passed away. Finally, she would also realize what others could see: that she was no longer a lovely, waiting bride.

What would happen then?

Elisabet knew very well the old piece of advice: an unhappy love can easily be replaced by a new one. But when it came to Karin ...? First, it was probably too late. Second, she was probably lost in her dream world forever.

“Paladin of the Ice People,” Miss Karin said while Elisabet arranged her pillow. “That sounds awfully grand. Are you of noble birth by any chance?”

“My ancestors must have been,” Elisabet said, smiling. “But that’s a long time ago. And things have changed dramatically for the nobility, as you know, both with regard to rank and to their finances.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Karin said, relieved and pleased. Having a noble lady as a servant might be rather complicated; she would probably prefer to be the one of the higher rank herself. “Where do your ancestors come from? The name Paladin is hardly Norwegian.”

“No, it isn’t, it’s from Schwarzburg; an ancestor was a duke there. Later on, we were called margraves. Then one of my ancestors came to Denmark where he married one of the Ice People. Here in Norway we’re not called anything. Now you can sleep well, Miss Karin. I’ll hear if anybody comes.” Miss Karin got ready to fall asleep once more, confused at the thought of having the descendant of a duke as her companion. She had forgotten it the following day when she was absorbed in making the difficult choice between the pink or the blue dress.

Elisabet and Miss Karin got along very well. True, Elisabet was certainly pretty bored after the two of them had spent the day playing games, talking and discussing beauty regimens. She thought continuously about how she could help this unhappy creature – because she very much wanted to help Miss Karin. Somehow, she managed to make Karin believe that this evening they could definitely not expect her fiancé to turn up. The patient put up with this and went to bed at a suitable time, so that Elisabet could go out.

From where Miss Karin lived, you could see Vemund Tark’s house at the edge of the forest but not Lekenes because the ridge curved around. Elisabet had also been out to reconnoitre during the day, making a small errand for Karin a few streets away. She had been quite surprised, because the street in which they lived was quite nice but just round the corner was the most awful slum Elisabet had ever seen: the shacks were built from things that others had thrown away: scraps of wood, rusty iron sheets, sticks, pieces of clothing and goodness knows what. A silent aggression glinted in the eyes that followed her, and she completed her errand as quickly as she could. I’ll never settle in a city, she thought, shocked. I want to move back home to the lovely, green countryside around Elistrand! I must get my future husband to come back with me as soon as possible. Provided I want him, of course. I want at least to have a small chance to voice my opinion. I want permission to decline. Then I suppose everybody will be cross with me. A young girl mustn’t cause a scandal by doubting the opinions of the grown-ups.

Elisabet dressed as nicely as possible so that Vemund would not be ashamed to introduce her to his brother. With great self-irony, she laughed as she stood looking at her reflection for quite a while, just as vain and self-absorbed as poor little Miss Karin.

Mrs Aakerstrøm arrived to replace her. Miss Karin was already in bed. “I hope she’ll keep quiet,” Mrs Aakerstrøm said, in a voice that sounded like a badly sharpened saw blade.

“I think she’s always calm,” Elisabet replied, “when she’s allowed to fiddle with her own things.” Mrs Aakerstrøm’s silence showed a strong distrust of Miss Karin. “I’ll soon be back,” Elisabet said, hurrying out.

As she walked briskly up the hill, she thought how fond she had become of her patient. Was it just compassion or did she not feel a certain relationship with a mind that was hidden behind a veil of self-deceit? Or was Karin actually as empty, superficial and self-centred as she seemed? Elisabet did not think so. But it was impossible to be certain about any of it. She would not mind knowing a bit more about Karin, about what she had been like before tragedy had struck her. The only one who knew anything about her was Vemund, and he had made it very clear that he did not want to talk about it.

It was an awfully long way up the hill! At last, she reached the top. She paused to catch her breath before she stepped inside. She was a bit early, she had probably walked too fast. As a woman, she did not like to be the first to arrive. Most women had an inborn need to “make an appearance” instead of sitting on a sofa and having to get up awkwardly for those who turned up later.

Vemund Tark did not pay attention to such detail. He greeted her slightly nervously, but relaxed when he saw her dress. “Fine,” he said curtly “but I don’t know what Lillebror will say about your hair. He’s a bit more conventional than I am.”

“He can say whatever he wants,” Elisabet said sharply. “I’m not a doll.”

“No, you’re not,” Vemund muttered, turning his face away. “How is Karin getting along?”

“I think we’ve become friends,” Elisabet said. “She’s just as you said – a lovely little creature. But I ought to know a bit more about what happened to her so that I don’t put my foot in it.”

“No, you’re not going to know about it! You must not! It’s sufficient that she doesn’t hear the name Tark.”

“What if I happen to touch upon a delicate topic quite by accident?”

“There’s no danger of that. What she experienced happens so rarely, and thank God for that!”

Oh, bother, did he not realize that she was now extremely curious to know? How was she supposed to treat the patient when she did not know anything at all about her?

“Is she a close relative of yours?”

“Now you’re asking too much. For goodness sake, won’t Lillebror turn up soon?”

Was being alone with Elisabet really so difficult? She felt slightly offended. She went at him again, even though she disapproved of her own aggression.

“If you’re so afraid that she’ll hear the name Tark ... Why in heaven’s name have you brought her here? Why let her live so close to her relatives that she can’t avoid hearing the name one day?”

“What was I to do?” Vemund hissed back. “She couldn’t live on her own over there in that awful asylum. I had to see to it that she was all right while I myself was to live here. That is why I moved to this house, so that I could be nearby. What’s more, she’s most unlikely to bump into my family or anybody who knows them. They would never set foot in that area of town: even if Karin lives in a nice safe place, there’s a slum just around the corner.”

“I’ve seen it,” Elisabet said abruptly. “I, who come from an innocent village, was rather shocked.”

Vemund gave a glum nod, looking once more out of the window in the direction of Lekenes.

Elisabet had noticed two expressions that Vemund used. One was “over there in the asylym”. Once more, she wondered where “over there” was. That place where the Tarks came from. The other point that had caught her attention was that he had moved to this house at the edge of the forest in order to keep a better eye on Karin. That was probably true, but Elisabet was sure that there was another reason for it as well, which Vemund did not want to reveal.

A wall of opposition.

“Oh,” he said sounding very relieved. “Here comes the blighter. My brother.”

Elisabet could not help registering that she felt tense all over. But then, it is not every day that you meet the unknown man you are to spend the rest of your life with. Vemund went out to greet him. Her first reaction was that she liked the sound of Lillebror’s voice. Soft, kind and cheerful. Then he entered the room.

If Vemund had certain features of refinement and masculinity, his younger brother had them to an even greater degree. They were about the same height, but Lillebror seemed taller, more elegant, perhaps because of the way he moved: erect and proud like a born nobleman. Where Vemund’s eyes were a cool and reserved blue, Lillebror’s were a warm blue, filled with love for all living creatures on the planet. He smiled quite irresistibly at Elisabet, then walked over and kissed her hand. He was dressed in the fashion of the day, with powdered hair lifted in a tall wave, a laced-edged shirt, a gold brocade waistcoat and a velvet jacket, breeches and white stockings, shoes with buckles ...

Elisabet glanced secretly at Vemund, wishing that Lillebror had dressed less elegantly. She did not have long to think about this, because she had her future husband’s hair right in front of her face as he bent over her hand, and it was too much for her nose. She gasped for breath and sneezed violently, and the two shocked brothers had to take care of a rather dishevelled guest. When the greatest consternation had died away and Elisabet was sitting down on the sofa, eyes red and face swollen, Vemund said wryly: “Yes, you did say that you’re allergic to powder. I believe you. Remember that, Lillebror! Then you might also better understand why Elisabet wears her hair naturally!”

“My dear lady,” said Lillebror with twinkling eyes. “I’ve never seen a woman react so strongly to powder. Can I be anything but flattered that I’ve made such a strong impression?”

Elisabet was in despair. This was not the impression she would have wanted to make on him and his attention had not diminished at all.

“Dear Vemund, where have you found this little flower?”

Vemund hissed: “Flower? You’ll discover it has thorns. Elisabet is the daughter of my good friend, Ulf Paladin of the Ice People, whom I told you about yesterday. She’s not just anybody, either by birth or by character.”

“Yes. You mentioned that Elisabet is a companion to your ... friend?”

Elisabet stared at Vemund but he did not seem to notice: “Yes, to my friend.”

For some reason, his reply seemed unreasonably soothing.

Lillebror said: “I suppose this means that I can’t visit Miss Elisabet without your permission then?”

Vemund replied: “Certainly not! Certainly not when she is with my friend. You can invite her home to Lekenes if you want. She’s bound to be quite lonely here in Christiania.”

“Oh, how wonderful,” Lillebror said. Elisabet thought what a stupid name for such an elegant man. He continued: “Why not come this evening? I was to return these samples of wood, which have some awful marks in them, and I know that my parents are at home and are bored stiff. Miss Elisabet ... would you like to come to my home and meet us all? I hadn’t expected such a pleasant meeting so I’m afraid I walked over to Vemund’s house. If you would be kind enough to join me, I’ll be delighted to drive you home by coach.”

Unlike Vemund, Lillebror was clearly used to talking to ladies. Elisabet had recovered from her strong allergic reaction to the powder and looked enquiringly at Vemund. He seemed pleased.

“I’ll replace Mrs Aakerstrøm so that she can go home,” he muttered hastily to Elisabet.

How much had the brothers agreed between themselves? Or might Vemund have predicted this invitation? Was it normal for a man she did not know to invite a decent girl to his home so swiftly? Elisabet did not know whether she was acting correctly, but she wanted to see inside the beautiful Lekenes.

“But bring Elisabet back here in the coach; she can walk the rest of the way,” said Vemund. She was not so sure of that.

Lillebror protested: “No, I’ll drive her all the way home.”

Vemund replied: “Drive her here and stop arguing!”

Lillebror gave in to the order. Elisabet sensed his admiration and affection for Vemund and she was quite touched.

As she walked along the path beside Lillebror Tark on this beautiful summer evening, she realized that she was preoccupied. Miss Karin, for whom she was responsible and whom she had come to like, was undoubtedly her main focus. She wanted to know more, understand more about her. Lillebror was a very new acquaintance and she did not yet know what to make of him. However, she admitted that he seemed pleasant. And he also seemed gentle and kind. You could certainly come across worse potential husbands!

A whole life ...?

Well – why not? If only he liked her. He must not be unfaithful because that was something Elisabet would never tolerate.

Oh, now she was deciding things much too far in the future. Vemund was the only one who had decided that Elisabet and Lillebror were meant for each other. She still had no idea about his wishes, let alone those of his family.

“You and your brother seem to get along very well,” she said as they walked under the dark oak trees, where the dew lay on branches and leaves.

“It’s always been that way,” Lillebror said. “Vemund has been a brilliant brother to look up to. It’s a shame that he’s left us. The house feels so empty without him.”

“Yes, why did he do that?” Elisabet blurted out before she had time to regret her tactless curiosity.

Lillebror answered calmly and naïvely: “Vemund felt that he didn’t have the right to stay at home any longer. He asserts that he’s no longer worthy because he’s done something unforgivable.”

Elisabet nodded because she had already heard it. The crime against Miss Karin – whatever that meant.

“Elisabet – I hope you’ll allow me to call you by your first name? – Elisabet, you must understand that our parents are outstanding. A mother who’s too good to be true, and Father’s also second to none. I think that Vemund can’t bear to think that he’s let them down by acting badly. He’s sought solitude voluntarily. Vemund is a completely different type from the rest of us. He’s more natural and unpolished and, although he never shows it, I think that he’s quite sensitive.”

“I think so, too,” Elisabet said thoughtfully. By now, they had reached the magnificent park that belonged to Lekenes, but Elisabet felt as if they were walking in a magical forest. Everything was so quiet that their voices rang hollow among the huge tree trunks. In the mild dusk of late summer, the old oak trees appeared gnarled, the trunks thick and grotesquely twisted. Among them were well-kept lawns covered with dew, and Elisabet was sure that a sea of anemones and yellow stars of Bethlehem grew there in spring.

She could hardly have imagined herself walking with such an extremely handsome man in these surroundings! A week ago, she had been wandering about at home, bored to tears! What a lot had happened since then! She had been angry when Vemund Tark announced his proposal on behalf of his brother. Now she no longer felt so cross, just very self-conscious in the presence of this handsome young man who still did not know that she had been chosen as his bride.

A gust of wind made the crowns of the old oaks tremble, turning the evening chilly.

“Are you cold?” Lillebror asked kindly. “We’ll soon be there.”

“Is it a long time since Vemund moved away from home?” Elisabet asked.

“About two or three years ago,” he replied lightly, apparently without suspicion.

“Surely it’s normal for grown-up sons to move out?”

“Not him. He’s the one who will inherit all of Lekenes, so if anybody was to move, it should have been me! When he returned to his old home here about three years ago, he seemed totally changed. Something happened down there. Something that had to do with a crime. Since then, he hasn’t wanted to set foot in Lekenes. He has said that he is not worthy and, worst of all, he doesn’t want to see our parents. Since Father has pulled out of the business, Vemund is responsible for it, but he doesn’t want to be here. He hates it! For that reason I have to act as a link between Father and him over every detail that has to do with the business. It’s awfully trying!”

Elisabet had listened with great interest. This innocent young man was willingly telling her everything that she was too afraid to ask Vemund about.

“Where did you live before you bought this estate?”

“We owned a house outside Holmestrand.”

Lillebror spoke enthusiastically about their previous home near Holmestrand, but Elisabet was no longer listening. This must have been where Karin had been hospitalized. Vemund had found her and brought her here without the others knowing about it. He was the one who had committed a crime against Karin that had made her lose her senses. How long ago had the crime occurred? How long had Vemund been at Holmestrand the last time he was there? Was that where it had happened? If so, he must have spent some time there, because according to Karin she had been in the mental hospital for quite a long time. Elisabet did not dare ask more questions about Holmestrand, and most of all she did not dare mention Karin. Not yet! Nevertheless, she was sure that she would be able to find out! In her own way, because Elisabet was curious by nature and the enigma surrounding Karin and Vemund fascinated her. She would have to know if she was supposed to help Karin get well again!

Elisabet started when she heard Lillebror’s voice: “Here is Lekenes. Have you ever seen anything as perfect as this?”