These Old Shades (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 1)

‘I am confident that you could, if you would, cajole the worthy Edward.’

Fanny smiled.

‘Yes, I could, but I do not want the girl.’

‘She will not tease you, my dear. I wish you to keep her close, to dress her as befits my ward, and to be gentle with her. Is it so much to ask?’

‘How do I know that she will not ogle Edward, this innocent maid?’

‘She is too much the boy. Of course, if you are uncertain of Edward –’

She tossed her head.

‘Indeed, ’tis no such thing! ’Tis merely that I’ve no wish to house a pert, red-headed girl.’

His Grace bent to pick up his fan.

‘I crave your pardon, Fanny. I’ll take the child elsewhere.’

Fanny ran to him, penitent all at once.

‘Indeed and you shall not! Oh, Justin, I am sorry to be so disobliging!’

‘You’ll take her?’

‘I – yes, I’ll take her. But I don’t believe all you say of her. I’ll wager my best necklet she’s not so artless as she would have you think.’

‘You would lose, my dear.’ His Grace moved to the door into the antechamber, and opened it. ‘Infant, come forth!’

Léonie came, her cloak over her arm. At sight of her boy’s raiment Fanny closed her eyes as though in acute pain.

Avon patted Léonie’s cheek.

‘My sister has promised to care for you until I can take you myself,’ he said. ‘Remember, you will do as she bids you.’

Léonie looked shyly across at Fanny, who stood with primly set lips and head held high. The big eyes noted the unyielding pose, and fluttered up to Avon’s face.

‘Monseigneur – please do not – leave me!’ It was a despairing whisper, and it amazed Fanny.

‘I shall come to see you very soon, my babe. You are quite safe with Lady Fanny.’

‘I don’t – want you to go away! Monseigneur, you – you do not understand!’

‘Infant, I do understand. Have no fear; I shall come back again!’ He turned to Fanny, and bowed over her hand. ‘I have to thank you, my dear. Pray convey my greetings to the excellent Edward. Léonie

, how often have I forbidden you to clutch the skirts of my coat?’

‘I – I am sorry, Monseigneur.’

‘You always say that. Be a good child, and strive to bear with your petticoats.’ He held out his hand, and Léonie dropped on one knee to kiss it. Something sparkling fell on to those white fingers, but Léonie turned her head away, surreptitiously wiping her eyes.

‘F-Farewell, Mon-monseigneur.’

‘Farewell, my infant. Fanny, your devoted servant!’ He made a profound leg, and went out, shutting the door behind him.

Left alone with the small but forbidding Lady Fanny, Léonie stood as though rooted to the ground, looking hopelessly towards the shut door, and twisting her hat in her hands.

‘Mademoiselle,’ said Fanny coldly, ‘if you will follow me I will show you your apartment. Have the goodness to wrap your cloak about you.’