These Old Shades (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 1)

Léonie peeped at him.

‘And – and the Maison Chourval?’

‘Did I take you there?’ His Grace was still frowning.

‘But yes, Monseigneur, only you sent me to wait for you in the vestibule.’

‘I had that much decency left, then. You will most assuredly forget the Maison Chourval. It would be interesting to know what you made of it?’

‘Very little, Monseigneur. It is not a nice place, I think.’

‘No, infant, you are right. It is not a nice place, nor was I – nice – to take you there. That is not the world you shall enter.’

‘Tell me!’ begged Léonie. ‘Shall I go to balls?’

‘Certainly, ma belle.’

‘And will you dance with me?’

‘My dear, there will be gallants enough to claim your hand. You will have no need of me.’

‘If you do not dance with me I won’t dance at all,’ she announced. ‘You will, Monseigneur, won’t you?’

‘Perhaps,’ he said.

‘I do not like perhaps,’ she said. ‘Promise!’

‘You are really very exigeante,’ he complained. ‘I am past the age of dancing.’

‘Eh bien! ’ Léonie tilted her chin. ‘Me, I am too young to dance. Nous voilà! ’

‘You, my infant,’ said his Grace severely, ‘are a very naughty, wilful child. I do not know why I bear with you.’

‘No, Monseigneur. And you will dance with me?’

‘Quite incorrigible,’ he murmured. ‘Yes, infant.’

A horse came clattering up the street, and paused at the inn-door.

‘Monseigneur – do you think – is it – he ?’ Léonie asked nervously.

‘It seems likely, my dear. The game begins.’

‘I am not feeling – quite so brave, Monseigneur.’

He rose, and spoke softly.

‘You will not disgrace yourself, or me, infant. There is naught to fear.’

‘N-no, Monseigneur.’

The landlord entered.

‘Monseigneur, it is M. le Docteur to see milor’.’

‘How disappointing,’ said his Grace. ‘I will come. Stay here, child, and if my very dear friend should come, remember that you are my ward, and behave with proper courtesy.’

‘Yes, Monseigneur,’ she faltered. ‘You will come back soon, won’t you?’