These Old Shades (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 1)

‘Much too good,’ agreed his Grace.

‘Swords!’ Merivale exclaimed. ‘It’s too quick. You or I, Justin, could kill him in less than three minutes.’

‘Too quick, and too clumsy. There is more poetry in the vengeance I take.’

Hugh looked up.

‘But explain?’ he begged. ‘Where is the child? What are you talking about? You have found a way to pay your debt in full, I suppose, but how have you found it?’

‘Curiously enough,’ said his Grace, ‘I had forgotten that old quarrel. You remind me most opportunely. The scales weigh heavily against M. de Saint-Vire. Give me your attention for one minute, and you shall know Léonie’s story.’ Briefly, and with none of his accustomed suavity, he told them the truth. They listened in thunderstruck silence, and for some time after he finished, could find no words to speak. It was Marling who broke the silence.

‘If that is true the man is the biggest scoundrel unhung!’ he said. ‘Are you sure, Avon?’

‘Perfectly, my friend.’

Rupert shook his fist, and muttered darkly.

‘Good God, do we live in the Dark Ages?’ cried Hugh. ‘It’s almost incredible!’

‘But the proof !’ Fanny cut in. ‘What can you do, Justin?’

‘I can stake everything on the last round, Fanny. I am going to do that. And I think – yes, I really think that I shall win.’ He smiled unpleasantly. ‘For the present my infant is safe, and I believe I may put my hand on her when I wish.’

‘What do you intend to do?’ shouted Rupert.

‘Oh yes, Justin, please tell us!’ besought my lady. ‘It is so dreadful to know nothing. To have to sit idle!’

‘I know, Fanny, but once more I must ask you all to be patient. I play my games best alone. One thing I may promise you: You shall be in at the death.’

‘But when will it be?’ Rupert poured out another glass of burgundy. ‘You’re too devilish tricky for me, Justin. I want a hand in the affair.’

‘No.’ Hugh shook his head. ‘Let Avon play his game to a close. There are too many of us to join with him, and there’s a proverb that says “too many cooks spoil the broth”. I’m not usually bloodthirsty, but I do not want Saint-Vire’s broth to be spoiled.’

‘I want to see him crushed,’ said Merivale. ‘And that soon!’

‘You shall, my dear Anthony. But for the present we will behave as ever. If any ask for Léonie she is indisposed. Fanny, did you say that Madame du Deffand gives a soirée tomorrow?’

‘Yes, but I’ve not the heart to go,’ sighed my lady. ‘It will be so brilliant too, and I did want Léonie to be there!’

‘Nevertheless, my dear, you will go, with us all. Calm yourself, Rupert. Your part was played, and played well, at Le Havre. Now it is my turn. Fanny, you are tired out. Go to bed now; you cannot do anything yet.’

‘I must go back to de Châtelet,’ said Merivale. He gripped Avon’s hand. ‘Act up to your name now, Satanas, if ever you did! We are all with you.’

‘Even I,’ said Marling with a smile. ‘You may be as devilish as you please, for Saint-Vire is the worst kind of villain I have had the ill-luck to meet.’

Rupert, hearing, choked in the act of drinking his third glass of burgundy.

‘Damme, I boil with rage when I think of him!’ he swore. ‘Léonie called him pig-person, but ’fore Gad he’s worse than that! He’s – !’

Fanny fled incontinently from the room.

Thirty

His Grace of Avon Trumps the Comte’s Ace

The Marlings came early to Madame du Deffand’s house, and were followed shortly by Merivale and Hugh Davenant. Madame du Deffand wanted to know what had become of Léonie, and was informed that she was indisposed, and had remained at home. Rupert presently arrived in company with d’Anvau and Lavoulère, and was twitted by several people, Madame du Deffand included, on his appearance at such a function.

‘Doubtless you are come to read us a madrigal or a rondeau,’ Madame teased him. ‘Faites voir, milor’, faites voir! ’