Devil's Cub (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 2)

His lordship shot out a hand. ‘Now don’t do that, my boy!’ he said. ‘Damme, when you start talking like Avon I’m off ! If you’ve not come to borrow money –’

‘Boot’s on the other leg,’ interrupted the Marquis.

Lord Rupert’s jaw dropped. ‘Ecod, was it you lent me five hundred pounds last month? When did I say I’d pay?’

‘Judgment Day, belike,’ said his undutiful nephew.

Lord Rupert shook his head. ‘Won’t be before, if the luck don’t turn soon,’ he agreed gloomily. ‘If you stand in need of it, my boy, I might ask Avon for a trifle.’

‘Lord, I could ask him myself, couldn’t I?’ the Marquis said.

‘Well, I don’t mind telling you, Vidal, that’s a thing I don’t do till the tipstaffs are after me,’ confessed Rupert. ‘I’m not saying Avon’s mean, but he’s devilish unpleasant over these little affairs.’

The Marquis glanced down at him with a glint in his eyes. ‘Sir, I am constrained to remind you that his grace has the honour to be my sire.’

‘Don’t do it,’ roared

his uncle. ‘Look’ee, Vidal, if you’re going to look down your nose, and turn into the living spit of Justin, you’ve one friend the less. I’m done with you.’

‘My God, could I survive?’ mocked the Marquis.

Lord Rupert started to get up, but was thrust back again. ‘Easy now,’ said his nephew. ‘I’ve done.’

Rupert relaxed again. ‘Y’know, you’ll have to watch it, Dominic,’ he said severely. ‘One in the family’s too much already. Avon’s got a damned nasty way with him, and if you fall into it you’ll find yourself with a whole pack of enemies.’ He stopped and scratched his head. ‘Not but what you’ve got them already, ha’n’t you?’

Vidal shrugged. ‘I dare say,’ he replied indifferently. ‘I don’t lose sleep over them.’

‘Cool fish, ain’t you?’ said Rupert, eyeing him. ‘Ever let anything trouble you?’ The Marquis yawned. ‘I’ve never found anything worth troubling over.’

‘H’m! Not even women?’

The thin lips curled. ‘Least of all women.’

Lord Rupert looked solemn. ‘Won’t do, y’know. Must care about something, Dominic.’

‘Sermon, uncle?’

‘Advice, my boy. Damn it, there’s something wrong with you, so there is! Never see you but what you’re after some wench or other, and the devil’s in it you don’t care for one of ’em –’ He broke off and clapped a hand to his brow. ‘That’s got it!’ he exclaimed. ‘Put me in mind of what I had to say to you!’

‘Oh?’ A faint interest sounded in Vidal’s voice. ‘Have you found a charmer, Rupert? At your age, too!’

‘Fiend seize it! D’you think I’m in my dotage!’ said his lordship indignantly. ‘But that’s not it. This is serious, Dominic. Where’s the burgundy? Take a drop, my boy; it won’t do you a mite of harm.’ He picked up the bottle, and poured out two glasses. ‘Ay, it’s serious this time, I warn you – What do you think of the wine? Not so bad, eh? Forget where I got it.’

‘It’s good,’ said the Marquis positively, and poured out two more glasses. ‘You had it from my cellar.’

‘Did I so? I’ll say this for you, Vidal, you’ve inherited your father’s palate. It’s the best thing I know of either of you.’

The Marquis bowed. ‘We thank you. What’s your serious warning?’

‘I’m just about to tell you, aren’t I? Don’t keep breaking in, my boy; it’s a devilish bad habit.’ He drained his glass, and set it down. ‘That’s cleared my head a trifle. It’s that yellow-headed chit, Dominic. Filly you had on your arm at Vauxhall Gardens t’other night. Can’t remember her name.’

‘Well?’ said his lordship.

Rupert reached out a long arm for the bottle. ‘Avon’s got wind of her.’

‘Well?’

Rupert turned his head to look at him. ‘Don’t keep on saying “Well,” burn you!’ he said testily. ‘I’m telling you Avon’s heard things, and he ain’t pleased.’