These Old Shades (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 1)

‘Lord, must you? Why?’

‘To chaperon my ward,’ said his Grace calmly. ‘I hope my letter will not bring about a fresh attack of the vapours. Gaston had best start for Le Havre at once.’ He rose. ‘I want pen, ink, and paper. I suppose I shall find them downstairs. You would be the better for an hour’s sleep, my dear.’

‘But what of Saint-Vire?’ Rupert asked.

‘The so dear Comte is in all probability scouring the country-side. I hope to see him soon.’

‘Ay, but what will you do?’

‘I? I shall do precisely nothing.’

‘I’d give a pony to see his face when he finds you here!’

‘Yes, I do not think he will be pleased,’ said his Grace, and went out.

Twenty-one

The Discomfiture of the Comte de Saint-Vire

Mine host and hostess of the Black Bull at Le Dennier had never before entertained such quality at their humble inn. Madame sent a serving-man running hot-foot to her neighbour, Madame Tournoise, and presently that lady came hurrying in with her daughter to aid Madame in her preparations. When she heard that no less a personage than an English Duke, with his entourage, had arrived at the inn, she was round-eyed in wonderment, and when his Grace came slowly down the stairs clad in a coat of palest lavender, with lacing of silver, and a silver waistcoat, amethysts in his lace, and on his fingers, she stood staring open-mouthed.

His Grace went to the little parlour, and sent for writing materials. Mine host came bustling with the inkhorn, and desired to know whether Monseigneur would take any refreshment. His Grace bespoke a bottle of canary wine, and three glasses, and sat him down to write to his cousin. A faint smile hovered about his lips.

My Very Dear Cousin, –

I Trust that by the Time you Receive this Missive you will have recovered from the Sad Indisposition which had overtaken you when I had the Pleasure of seeing you, three Days since. I am Desolat’d to be Oblig’d to put you to Added Inconvenience, but I believe I must Request you to Join me here as soon as may be. Gaston, who brings this letter, will Escort you. Pray pack your Trunks for a long stay, for I have some notion of Proceeding in due Course to Paris. My Ward, you will be Reliev’d to hear, is with me in this charming Village, in Company with my Lord Rupert.

I have the Honour, my dear Cousin, to be

Yr most devot’d, humble, and obedient servant

Avon.

His Grace signed his name with a flourish, still smiling. The door opened, and Léonie came in, all in foaming white muslin, with a blue sash about her waist, and a blue riband in her hair.

‘Monseigneur, is it not kind of Lady Fanny to send me this pretty dress? I look nice, do you not think?’

The Duke put up his glass.

‘My child, you look charming. Lady Fanny’s taste is unimpeachable.’ He rose, and picked up a flat velvet case from the table. ‘I beg you will accept this trifling mark of my affection for you, infant.’

Léonie skipped up to him.

‘Another present, Monseigneur? I think you are very kind to me! What is it, I wonder?’

His Grace opened the case. Léonie’s lips formed a soundless Oh!

‘Mon-seigneur!’

The Duke lifted the pearls from their bed of velvet, and clasped them about her neck.

‘Oh, Monseigneur, thank you!’ she said in a gasp, and held the long string between her fingers. ‘They are beautiful! I love them, oh, much! Would you like me to curtsy to you, or may I just kiss your hand?’

His Grace smiled.

‘You need do neither, infant.’

‘I will do both,’ said Léonie, and sank down with skirts outspread and one little foot peeping from beneath the muslin flounces. Then she kissed the Duke’s hand, and rose. Lastly she inspected his Grace’s clothes.