These Old Shades (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 1)

‘I presume that is why you are holding my hand now?’ inquired his Grace. ‘You are perhaps afraid lest I should hide myself under the seat?’

‘That is silly,’ replied Léon. ‘Very silly. Bonne nuit, Monseigneur.’

‘Bonne nuit, mon enfant. You will not lose me – or I you – very easily, I think.’

There was no answer, but Léon’s head sank against his Grace’s shoulder, and remained there.

‘I am undoubtedly a fool,’ remarked the Duke. He pushed a cushion under Léon’s relaxed arm. ‘But if I wake him he will begin to talk again. What a pity Hugh is not here to see!… I beg your pardon, my infant?’ But Léon had muttered only in his sleep. ‘If you are going to converse in your sleep I shall be compelled to take strong measures of prevention,’ said his Grace. He leaned his head back against the padded seat, and smiling, closed his eyes.

Six

His Grace of Avon Refuses to Sell his Page

When Davenant met his Grace at breakfast next morning he found that the Duke was in excellent spirits. He was more than usually urbane, and whenever his eye alighted on Léon he smiled, as if at some pleasant thought.

‘Was the levée well attended?’ asked Hugh, attacking a red sirloin. Unlike the Duke, who never ate more than a roll for breakfast, he made a hearty meal of eggs and bacon, and cold meats, washed down by English ale, especially imported by the Duke for his delectation.

The Duke poured himself out a second cup of coffee.

‘Crowded, my dear Hugh. It was in honour of some birthday, or saint’s day, or something of the sort.’

‘Did you see Armand?’ Hugh reached out his hand for the mustard.

‘I saw Armand, and the Comtesse, and the Vicomte, and everybody I least wished to meet.’

‘One always does. I suppose La Pompadour was delighted to see you?’

‘Oppressively so. The King sat on his throne and smiled benignantly. Just like a coin.’

Hugh suspended his fork in mid-air.

‘Just like a what?’

‘A coin. Léon will explain. Or possibly he has forgotten.’

Hugh looked inquiringly at the p

age.

‘What is the joke, Léon? Do you know?’

Léon shook his head.

‘No, m’sieur.’

‘Ah, I thought perhaps you would not remember,’ said his Grace. ‘Léon was quite satisfied with the King, Hugh. He confided to me that he was just like the coins.’

Léon blushed.

‘I – I am afraid I was asleep, Monseigneur.’

‘Very nearly so. Do you always sleep as one dead?’

‘N-no. That is – I do not know, Monseigneur. I was put to bed in all my clothes.’

‘Yes, I did that. Having wasted ten minutes in endeavouring to rouse you, I thought that the simplest plan would be to carry you up to bed. You are not all joy, my infant.’

‘I am very sorry, Monseigneur; you should have made me wake up.’