These Old Shades (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 1)

‘Yes, you did,’ she said triumphantly.

‘But what do you mean?’ demanded Davenant. ‘Who abducted Léonie? Is it true?’

Marling nodded to him across the table.

‘As pretty a piece of villainy as ever I heard.’

‘But who did it? Who is the – the pig-person?’

‘The bad Comte de Saint-Vire!’ said Léonie. ‘He gave me an evil drink, and brought me to France, and Rupert saved me!’

Davenant started, and stared at his Grace.

‘Saint-Vire!’ he said, and again, beneath his breath, ‘Saint-Vire.’

His Grace cast a quick look round, but the lackeys had left the room.

‘Yes, Hugh, yes. The so dear Comte.’

Davenant opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it again.

‘Quite so,’ said his Grace.

‘But Avon’ – it was Marling who spoke – ‘Fanny tells me that cards for the ball have been sent to Saint-Vire and his wife. Why did you do that?’

‘I believe I had a reason,’ said his Grace pensively. ‘No doubt it will return to my mind some time or other.’

‘If the fellow comes I’ll never be able to contain myself !’ Rupert said.

‘I do not imagine that he will come, my child. Hugh, if you have finished, I suggest we repair to the library. It is the only room that Fanny has left undisturbed.’

Fanny rose, and shook her finger at him.

‘I shall throw it open on the night of the ball, never fear! I have a mind to set card-tables there.’

‘No,’ said Léonie firmly. ‘It is our very own room, Monseigneur. You are not to let her!’ She laid her finger-tips on his crooked arm, and prepared to go out with him. Hugh heard an urgent whisper. ‘Monseigneur, not that room! We always sit there. You brought me to it the very first night.’

Avon turned his head.

‘You hear, Fanny?’

‘It’s most tiresome!’ said her ladyship, in a long-suffering manner. ‘What odds can it make, child? What’s your reason?’

‘Madame, I cannot think of the word. It is what Monseigneur says when you ask him why he does a thing.’

Rupert opened the door.

‘Faith, I know what she means! A whim!’

‘C’est cela! ’ Léonie gave a little skip. ‘You are very clever to-night, Rupert, I think.’

The ladies retired early to bed, and as Rupert dragged the unwilling Marling out to Vassaud’s, Avon and Hugh were left alone in the quiet library. Hugh looked round with a little smile.

‘Egad, it’s like old times, Justin!’

‘Three months ago, to be precise,’ said his Grace. ‘I am becoming something of a patriarch, my dear.’

‘Are you?’ Davenant said, and smiled to himself. ‘May I compliment you on your ward?’