Devil's Cub (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 2)

She was talking to an old friend, one Hugh Davenant, when she overheard the story of her nephew’s latest exploit, and she at once broke off her own conversation to exclaim: ‘That abominable boy! I vow and declare I never go anywhere but what I hear of him. And never any good, Hugh. Never!’

Hugh Davenant’s grey eyes travelled across the room to where the Marquis was standing, and dwelled rather thoughtfully on that arrogant figure. He did not say anything for a moment, and Lady Fanny rattled on.

‘I am sure I have not the least objection to him shooting a highwayman – my dear Hugh, do but look at that odd gown! What a figure of fun – oh, it is Lady Mary Coke! Well, small wonder. She never could dress, and really she is become so strange of late, people say she is growing absolutely English. Yes, Hugh, I heard it from Mr Walpole, and he vowed she was mad – what was I saying? Vidal! Oh, yes, well, if he must shoot highwaymen, it’s very well, but to leave the poor man dead on the road – though I make no doubt he would have done the same to Vidal, for I believe they are horridly callous, these fellows – but that’s neither here nor there. Vidal had no right to leave him. Now people will say that he is wickedly blood-thirsty, or something disagreeable, and it is quite true, only one does not want the whole world to say so.’ She drew a long breath. ‘And Léonie,’ she said – ‘and you know, Hugh, I am very fond of dear Léonie – Léonie will laugh, and say that her méchant Dominique is dreadfully thoughtless. Thoughtless!’

Davenant smiled. ‘I make no doubt she will,’ he agreed. ‘I sometimes think that the Duchess of Avon will always remain, at heart – Léon, a page.’

‘Hugh, do I beseech you, have a care! You do not know who may overhear you. As for Avon, I truly think he does not care at all what happens to Dominic.’

‘After all,’ Hugh said slowly, ‘Dominic is so very like him.’

Lady Fanny shut her fan with a snap. ‘If you are minded to be unkind about my poor Avon, Hugh, I warn you I shall not listen. Lud, I’m sure he has been a perfect paragon ever since he married Léonie. I know he is monstrous disagreeable, and no one was ever more provoking, unless it be Rupert, who, by the way, encourages Dominic in every sort of excess, just as one would expect – but I’ll stake my reputation Avon was never such a – yes, Hugh, such a devil as Vidal. Why, they call him Devil’s Cub! And if you are going to tell me that is because he is Avon’s son, all I can say is that you are in a very teasing mood, and it’s no such thing.’

‘He is very young, Fanny,’ Hugh said, still watching the Marquis across the room.

‘That makes it worse,’ declared her ladyship. ‘Oh, my dear Lady Dawlish, I wondered whether I should see you to-night! I protest, it’s an age since I had a talk with you… Odious woman, and as for her daughter, you may say what you choose, Hugh, but the girl squints! Where was I? Oh, Vidal, of course! Young? Yes, Hugh, I marvel that

you should find that an excuse for him. The poor Hollands had trouble enough with their son, not but what I consider Holland was entirely to blame – but I never heard that Charles Fox ever did anything worse than lose a fortune at gaming, which is a thing no one could blame in him. It is very different with Vidal. From the day he left Eton he has been outrageous, and I make no doubt he was so in the nursery. It is not only his duels, Hugh – my dear, do you know he is considered positively deadly with the pistols? John tells me they say in the clubs that it makes no odds to the Devil’s Cub whether he is drunk or sober, he can still pick out a playing card on the wall. He did that at White’s once, and there was the most horrid scandal, for of course he was in his cups, and only fancy, Hugh, how angry all the people like old Queensberry and Mr Walpole must have been! I wish I had seen it!’

‘I did see it,’ said Hugh. ‘A silly boy’s trick, no more.’

‘I dare say, but it was no boy’s trick to kill young Ffolliot. A pretty to-do there was over that. But as I say, it is not only his duels. He plays high – well, so do we all, and he is a true Alastair – and he drinks too much. No one ever saw Avon in his cups that I ever heard of, Hugh. And worse – worse than all –’ she stopped and made a gesture with her fan. ‘Opera dancers,’ she said darkly.

Davenant smiled. ‘Well, Fanny, I deplore it as much as you do, but I believe you cannot say that no one ever saw Avon –’

He was interrupted. ‘I am very fond of Justin,’ said Lady Fanny tartly, ‘but I never pretended to approve of his conduct. And with all his faults Justin was ever bon ton. It is no such thing with Vidal. If he were my son, I should never have consented to let him live anywhere but under my roof. My own dear John scarce leaves my side.’

Hugh bowed. ‘I know you are very fortunate in your son, Fanny,’ he said.

She sighed. ‘Indeed, he is prodigiously like his poor papa.’

Hugh made no reply to this but merely bowed again. Knowing her ladyship as he did, he was perfectly well aware that her son’s staid disposition was something of a disappointment to her.

‘I am sure,’ said Lady Fanny, with a touch of defiance, ‘that if I heard of my John holding – holding orgies with all the wildest young rakes in town I should die of mortification.’ He frowned. ‘Orgies, Fanny?’

‘Orgies, Hugh. Pray do not ask more.’

Davenant had heard a good many stories concerning the doings of Vidal’s particular set, and bearing in mind what these stories were, he was somewhat surprised that they should have come to Lady Fanny’s ears. From her expression of outraged virtue he inferred that she really had heard some of the worst tales. He wondered whether John Marling had been her informant, and reflected that in spite of his excesses one could not but like the Marquis better than his impeccable cousin.

At that moment Mr John Marling came across the room towards his mother. He was a good-looking young man of rather stocky build, dressed very neatly in Spanish-brown velvet. He was in his thirtieth year, but the staidness of his demeanour made him appear older. He greeted Davenant with a bow and a grave smile, and had begun to inquire politely after the older man’s health, when his mother interrupted him.

‘Pray, John, where is your sister? I was put out to see that young Comyn present here to-night. I do trust you have not let her slip off with him?’

‘No,’ John said. ‘She is with Vidal.’

‘Oh!’ A curiously thoughtful expression came into her ladyship’s face. ‘Well, I make no doubt they were glad to see each other.’

‘I don’t know,’ John said painstakingly. ‘Juliana cried out: “Why, my dear Dominic, you here?” or some such thing, and Vidal said: “Good God! Have I stumbled on a family gathering?”’

‘That is just his way,’ Lady Fanny assured him. She turned her limpid gaze upon Davenant. ‘Vidal has a great kindness for his cousin, you know, Hugh.’

Davenant did not know it, but he was perfectly well aware of Lady Fanny’s ambition. Whatever might be the imperfections of Vidal’s character, he was one of the biggest prizes of the matrimonial market, and for years her ladyship had cherished hopes which she fondly believed to be secret.

John seemed disposed to argue the matter. ‘For my part I do not believe that Vidal cares a fig for Juliana,’ he said. ‘And as for her, I very much fear this Frederick Comyn has taken her fancy to an alarming degree.’

‘How can you be so teasing, John?’ Fanny demanded petulantly. ‘You know very well she is nothing but a child, and I am sure no thought of – of marriage, or love, or any such folly has entered her head. And if it had, it is no great matter, and when she has been in Paris a week, she will have forgotten the young man’s very existence.’

‘Paris?’ said Hugh, foreseeing that John was going to try and convince his mother for her own good. ‘Is Juliana going to Paris?’