These Old Shades (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 1)

‘’Pon my soul, you are a careless minx!’ said Rupert, fishing for the coin in his bowl. ‘There’s another gone now, under the bed!’

Léonie dived after the errant guineas, retrieved them, and sat down on the bed to count them.

‘One, two, four, six, and a louis – oh, and another guinea, and three sous, and –’

‘That’s not the way! Here, give ’em to me! There’s another gone under the bed, burn it!’

Léonie was grovelling under the bed in search of the coin when they heard the clatter of wheels outside.

‘What’s that?’ said Rupert sharply. ‘Quick! To the window!’

Léonie extricated herself with difficulty, and ran to the window.

‘Rupert, ’tis he! Mon Dieu, mon Dieu, what are we to do?’

‘Can you see him?’ Rupert demanded.

‘No, but there is a coach, and the horses are steaming! Oh listen, Rupert!’

Voices were heard below, expostulating. Evidently Madame was guarding the staircase.

‘Saint-Vire, I’ll bet a monkey!’ said Rupert. ‘Where’s that pistol? Plague take this broth!’ He threw the bowl and the rest of its contents on to the floor, settled his wig straight, and reached out a hand for the pistol, a very grim look on his drawn young face.

Léonie darted forward and seized the weapon.

‘You are not enough strong!’ she said urgently. ‘See, you have exhausted yourself already! Leave me! I will shoot him dead!’

‘Here, no, I say!’ expostulated Rupert. ‘You’ll blow him to smithereens! Give it to me! Fiend seize it, do as I say!’

The commotion below had subsided a little, and footsteps could be heard mounting the stairs.

‘Give that pistol to me, and get you to the other side of the bed,’ ordered Rupert. ‘By Gad, we’ll see some sport now! Come here !’

Léonie had backed to the window, and stood with the pistol levelled at the door, her finger crooked about the trigger. Her mouth was shut hard, and her eyes blazed. Rupert struggled impatiently to rise.

‘For God’s sake, give it to me! We don’t want to kill the fellow!’

‘Yes, we do,’ said Léonie. ‘He gave me an evil drug.’

The door opened.

‘If you come one step into the room I will shoot you dead!’ said Léonie clearly.

‘And I thought that you would be pleased to see me, ma fille,’ said a soft, drawling voice. ‘I beg you will not shoot me dead.’ Great-coated, booted and spurred, not a hair of his elegant wig out of place, his Grace of Avon stood upon the threshold, quizzing glass raised, a faint smile curling his thin lips.

Rupert gave a shout of laughter, and collapsed on to his pillows.

‘Thunder and turf, but I never thought I’d live to be thankful for the sight of you, Justin!’ he gasped. ‘Stap me if I did!’

Twenty

His Grace of Avon Takes Command of the Game

The colour came flooding back to Léonie’s cheeks. ‘Monseigneur!’ she gasped, and flew across the room towards him, laughing and crying at once. ‘Oh, Monseigneur, you have come, you have come!’ She landed breathless in his arms, and clung to him.

‘Why, ma fille !’ said his Grace gently. ‘What is all this? Did you doubt I should come?’

‘Take that pistol from her,’ recommended Rupert faintly, but with a smile.