‘Pray do! You find h
er to your taste?’
‘Infinitely. Paris will be enchanted. She is an original.’
‘Something of a rogue,’ conceded his Grace.
‘Justin, what has Saint-Vire to do with her?’
The thin brows rose.
‘I seem to remember, my dear, that your curiosity was always one of the things I deplored in you.’
‘I’ve not forgot the tale you told me – in this very room, Justin. Is Léonie the tool with which you hope to crush Saint-Vire?’
His Grace yawned.
‘You fatigue me, Hugh. Do you know, I have ever had a fancy to play my game – alone.’
Davenant could make nothing of him, and gave up the attempt. Marling came in presently, and remarked that Rupert was not like to return until the morning.
‘Who was there?’ Davenant asked.
‘The rooms were crowded, but I know so few people,’ Marling said. ‘I left Rupert dicing with one Lavoulère.’ He looked at the Duke. ‘The lad’s incorrigible, Avon. He will dice his soul away one of these days.’
‘Oh, I trust not!’ said Avon. ‘I suppose he is losing?’
‘He is,’ Marling replied. ‘It is not my affair, Justin, but I think you should strive to check this gambling fever in him.’
‘I agree,’ Davenant said. ‘The boy is too thoughtless.’
Avon strolled to the door.
‘Beloved, I leave you to your moralities,’ he said softly, and went out.
Hugh laughed, but Marling frowned.
‘Impossible Satanas!’ said Hugh.
‘He seems not to trouble his head over Rupert’s welfare,’ Marling spoke heavily. ‘He should have some hold over the boy.’
‘Oh, my dear Marling, Rupert will come to heel whenever Avon chooses to lift his finger.’
‘It’s very well, Hugh, but I have yet to see him lift it.’
‘I have seen it,’ Davenant answered. He drew his chair nearer to the fire. ‘I see also a vast change in our Satanas.’
‘Ay,’ Marling admitted. ‘It’s the child’s influence. My lady dreams of a bridal.’
‘I would it might be so,’ Hugh crossed his legs. ‘There is that in Avon’s eyes when he looks on Léonie –’
‘I do not trust him.’
‘Why, I think I do for once.’ Hugh laughed a little. ‘When last I saw Léonie – Léon she was then – it was “Yes, Monseigneur” and “No, Monseigneur.” Now it is “Monseigneur, you must do this,” and “Monseigneur, I want that!” She twists him round her little finger, and, by Gad, he likes it!’
‘Oh, but there’s naught of the lover in his manner, Hugh! You have heard him with her, scolding, correcting.’
‘Ay, and I have heard the note in his voice of – faith, of tenderness! This wooing will be no ordinary one, methinks, but there is a bridal in the air.’