An Infamous Army (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 4)

‘You need not tell me that,’ he interrupted. ‘I know. She appointed Perry to ride with her?’

‘So I understand. He made no secret of it, which makes me feel that he cannot have intended the least harm. But Harriet was suffering from such an irritation of nerves that she allowed her jealousy to overcome her good sense; they quarrelled; Perry left the house in anger; and, I dare say out of sheer defiance, joined a party Lady Barbara had got together to picnic in the country that evening. The gossip arose out of being the one chosen to drive with her in her phaeton. I am afraid he has done little to allay suspicion since. It is all such a stupid piece of nonsense, but oh, Charles, if you would but use your influence with Lady Barbara! Harriet is in despair, and indeed it is very disagreeable, to say the least of it, to have such a scandal in our midst!’

‘Disagreeable!’ he exclaimed. ‘It is a damnable piece of work!’ He checked himself, and continued in a more moderate tone: ‘I beg your pardon, but you will agree that I have reason to feel this strongly. Is Peregrine with Bab now?’

‘I do not know, but I judge it to be very probable.’ She saw him compress his lips, and added: ‘I think if you were to speak to Lady Barbara—’

‘I shall speak to Barbara in good time, but my present business is with Peregrine.’

She could not help feeling a little alarmed. He spoke in a grim voice which she had never heard before, and when she stole a glance at his face there was nothing in its expression to reassure her. She said falteringly: ‘You will do what is right, I am sure.’

He glanced down at her, and seeing how anxiously she was looking at him, said with a faint smile, but with a touch of impatience: ‘My dear Judith, do you suppose I am going to run Peregrine through, or what?’

She lowered her eyes in a little confusion. ‘Oh! of course not! What an absurd notion! But what do you mean to do?’

‘Put an end to this nauseating business,’ he replied.

‘Oh, if you could! Such affairs may so easily lead to disaster!’

‘Very easily.’

She sighed, and said rather doubtfully: ‘Do you think that it will answer? I would have spoke to Perry myself, only that I feared to do more harm than good. When he gets these headstrong fits the least hint of opposition seems to make him worse. I begged Worth to intervene, but he declined doing it, and I daresay he was right.’

‘Worth!’ he said. ‘No, it is not for him to speak to Peregrine. I am the one who is concerned in this, and what I have to say to Peregrine I can assure you he will pay heed to!’ He glanced at the clock over the fireplace, and added: ‘I am going to call at his house now. Don’t look so anxious, there is not the least need.’

She stretched out her hand to him. ‘If I look anxious it is on your account. Dear Charles, I am so sorry this should have happened! Don’t let it vex you: it was all mischief, nothing else!’

He grasped her hand for a moment, and said in a low voice: ‘Unpleasant mischief! It is the fault of that wretched up-bringing! Sometimes I fear—But the heart is unspoiled. Try to believe that: I know it.’

She could only press his fingers understandingly. He held her hand an instant longer, then, with a brief smile, let it go and walked out of the room.

Peregrine was not to be found at his house, but Colonel Audley sent up his card to Lady Taverner, and was presently admitted into her salon.

She received him with evident agitation. She looked frightened, and greeted him with nervous breathlessness, trying to seem at ease, but failing miserably.

He shook hands with her, and put her out of her agony of uncertainty by coming straight to the point. ‘Lady Taverner, we are old friends,’ he said in his pleasant way. ‘You need not be afraid to trust me, and I need not, I know, fear to be frank with you. I have come about this nonsensical affair of Peregrine’s. Shall we sit down and talk it over sensibly together?’

She said faintly: ‘Oh! How can I—You—I do not know how to—’

‘You will agree that I am concerned in it as much as you are,’ he said. ‘Judith has been telling me the whole. What a tangle it is! And all arising out of my stupidity in allowing Peregrine to be my deputy that evening! Can you forgive me?’

She sank down upon the sofa, averting her face. ‘I am sure you never dreamed—Judith says it is my own fault, that I brought it on myself by my folly!’

‘I think the hardest thing of all is to be wise in our dealings with the people we love,’ he said. ‘I know I have found it so.’

She ventured to turn her head towards him. ‘Perhaps I was a fool. Judith will have told you that I was rude and ill-bred. It is true! I do not know what can have possessed me, only when she came up to me, so beautiful, and—oh, I cannot explain! I am sorry: this is very uncomfortable for you!’

Her utterance became choked by tears; she groped for her handkerchief among the sofa cushions, and was startled by finding a large one put into her hand. Her drenched eyes flew upwards to the Colonel’s face; a sound between a sob and a laugh escaped her, and she said unsteadily: ‘Thank you! You are very obliging! Oh dear, how can you be so—so—I am sure I don’t know why I am laughing when my heart is broken!’

Colonel Audley watched her dry her cheeks, and said: ‘But your heart isn’t broken.’

Harriet emerged from his handkerchief to say with a good deal of indignation: ‘I don’t see how you can know whether my heart is broken or not!’

‘Of course I can know, for I know mine is not.’

This seemed unanswerable. Harriet could only look helplessly at him, and wait for more.

He smiled at her, and took his handkerchief back. ‘Crying won’t mend matters. I rely on you to help me in this business.’