These Old Shades (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 1)

Avon showed his young brother Léonie’s letter. Rupert read it, exclaiming at intervals. When he came to the end he snatched his wig from his head, threw it upon the floor, and stamped on it, saying various things beneath his breath that made Lady Fanny clap her hands over her ears.

‘If you don’t have his blood for this, Justin, I shall!’ he said at last, picked up his wig, and put it on his head again. ‘May he rot in hell for a black scoundrel! Is she his bastard?’

‘She is not,’ said Avon. ‘She is his legitimate daughter. I have sent for Hugh and Marling. It is time that you all knew my infant’s story.’

‘Left her love for me, bless her!’ choked Rupert. ‘Where is she? Are we to set off at once? Only give the word, Justin, and I’m ready!’

‘I do not doubt it, child, but we do not start to-day. I believe I know whither she has gone; she will be safe enough. Before I bring her back she shall be righted in the eyes of the world.’

Rupert glanced down at the letter in his hand.

‘I cannot bear thatt I should bring Scandal to you,’ he read. ‘Burn it, your life’s one long scandal! And she – Devil take it, I could cry like a woman, so I could!’ He gave the letter back to the Duke. ‘She’s made a cursed idol of you, Justin, and you’re not fit to kiss her little feet!’ he said.

Avon looked at him.

‘That I know,’ he said. ‘My part ends when I bring her back to Paris. It is better so.’

‘So you do love her.’ Rupert nodded to his sister.

‘I have loved her for a long time. And you, my son?’

‘No, no, I’m no suitor of hers, I thank you! She’s a darling, but I’d have none of her to wife. It’s you she wants, and it’s you she’ll have, mark my words!’

‘I am “Monseigneur”,’ Avon replied with a crooked smile. ‘There is glamour attached to me, but I am too old for her.’

Then the others came in in a state of liveliest curiosity.

‘What’s to do, Justin?’ asked Hugh. ‘Has there been a death in the house?’

‘No, my dear. Not a death.’

Lady Fanny sprang up.

‘Justin – she – she would not have killed herself, and – and said that in her letter so that you should not guess her intention? I never thought of that! Oh, Edward, Edward, I am so unhappy!’

‘She?’ Marling put an arm about Fanny. ‘Do you mean – Léonie?’

‘She has not killed herself, Fanny. You forget that she has her maid with her,’ Avon said reassuringly.

Davenant shook him by the arm.

‘Speak out, man, for God’s sake! What has happened to the child?’

‘She has left me,’ Avon said, and put Léonie’s note in his hand.

With one accord Merivale and Marling went to look over Hugh’s shoulder.

‘God’s truth!’ exploded Merivale, and clapped a hand to his sword-hilt as he read: ‘Oh, what a villain! Now, Justin, you shall have at him, and I’m with you to the death!’

‘But –’ Marling looked up with puckered brows. ‘Poor, poor child, is it true?’

Hugh came to the end, and said huskily:

‘Little Léon! ’Fore God, it’s pathetic!’

Rupert, at this juncture, relieved his feelings by throwing his snuff-box at the opposite wall.

‘Oh, we’ll send him to hell between us, never fear!’ he stormed. ‘Cur! Dastardly cur! Here, give me some burgundy, Fan! I’m in such a heat – Swords are too good for the rogue, damme they are!’