Devil's Cub (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 2)

At that the Marquis spoke. ‘Is he dead then?’

Avon’s brows rose in polite surprise. ‘Is it possible that you don’t know?’

‘I don’t, sir.’

‘I envy you your light-heartedness,’ said Avon. ‘So far as I am aware the gentleman still lives. Whether he continues to do so or not is a question that does not at the moment concern me. It will make very little difference to you. Three months ago I warned you that your next killing would prove serious. You will allow me to point out that it is never wise to disregard my warnings.’

‘Certainly, sir. I take it I may have to stand my trial?’

‘Not at all,’ said his grace coldly. ‘I am still somebody. But you may take it that for some appreciable time to come your residence will be upon the Continent. An affair of honour, conducted honourably, might have been condoned. A pot-house brawl can only be – one trusts – eventually forgotten.’

The Marquis flushed. ‘One moment, sir. My affairs, whether settled at Barn Elms or in a pot-house, are still honourably conducted.’

‘I make you my apologies,’ replied Avon, slightly inclining his head. ‘You must forgive my declining years, which make it difficult for me to appreciate the manners of your generation. In my day we did not fight in gaming-hells, or when we were in our cups.’

‘A mistake, sir, I admit. I am sorry for it.’

The Duke looked at him sardonically. ‘I am not in the least interested in your emotions, Vidal. What I object to is that you have had the impertinence to disturb your mother. That I do not permit. You will leave England at once.’

Vidal was very pale, and a muscle at the corner of his mouth twitched. ‘I’ll stand my trial, I believe.’

The Duke put up his glass and surveyed Vidal through it. ‘You do not appear to have much understanding of the situation,’ he remarked. ‘You will leave England, not to save your neck, nor because it is my will, but to spare your mother any further anxiety concerning your safety. I trust I make myself plain?’

Vidal looked at him with hard defiant eyes. Then he strode restlessly to the window and back again. ‘Quite plain. Yet if I say I’ll not go, what then?’

‘I should regret the necessity of course, but I should – er – contrive your departure willy-nilly.’

The Marquis gave a short laugh. ‘Egad, I believe you would! I’ll go.’

‘You had better bid your mother good-bye,’ recommended his grace. ‘You will reach the coast quite easily by to-night.’

‘Just as you please, sir,’ Vidal said indifferently. He picked up his hat and gloves from the table. ‘Is there anything more you desire to say to me?’

‘Very little,’ Avon answered. ‘Your restraint is quite admirable. I applaud it.’

‘I thought it was my lack of it that had offended your sensibilities, sir,’ said Vidal grimly. ‘You go too fast for me.’

Avon smiled. ‘You must not think me witless, my dear boy. I am perfectly aware that you would like to throw my extremely reprehensible past in my teeth.’

‘I confess, sir, I find your homily a little ironic.’

‘Quite amusing, is it no

t?’ agreed his grace. ‘I am perfectly sensible of it. But the road I travelled is not the road I should desire my son to take. And you will no doubt agree that a liberal experience of vice gives me some right to judge.’ He rose and came to the fire. ‘Concerning more immediate matters, you may draw upon Foley’s in Paris, of course.’

‘Thank you, sir, I have enough for my needs,’ the Marquis said stiffly.

‘I compliment you. You are certainly the first Alastair ever to say so. You will find your mother upstairs.’

‘Then I’ll take my leave of you, sir,’ Vidal said. ‘Accept my apologies for the inconvenience I may have caused you.’ He bowed, unsmiling, and turned sharp on his heel. As he jerked open the door, Avon spoke again. ‘By the way, Vidal, does my record still stand?’

The Marquis looked back over his shoulder, frowning. ‘Your record, sir?’

‘Three hours and forty-seven minutes was my time,’ said his grace pensively.

An unwilling laugh broke from Vidal. ‘No, sir, your record does not stand.’

‘I thought not,’ said Avon. ‘May I be permitted to know the new record?’