Devil's Cub (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 2)

‘Who is she?’ inquired Miss Challoner.

‘My mother. Come and bind up your handiwork. I’m spoiling old Plançon’s carpet.’

Miss Challoner came promptly and took the handkerchief he held out to her. ‘Are you sure it is not serious?’ she asked anxiously. ‘It bleeds dreadfully.’

‘Quite sure. I observe that the sight of blood don’t turn you queasy.’

‘I am not such a fool, sir.’ Miss Challoner began to roll up his sleeve. ‘I fear the lace is ruined, my lord. Am I hurting you?’

‘Not at all,’ said Vidal politely.

Miss Challoner made a pad of her own handkerchief, and bound the wound up tightly with my lord’s.

‘Thank you,’ he said when this operation was over. ‘Now if you will help me to put on my coat again, we will talk.’

‘Do you think you had better put it on?’ asked Miss Challoner doubtfully. ‘Perhaps it may start to bleed again.’

‘My good girl, it’s the veriest scratch!’ said Vidal.

‘I was afraid I had killed you,’ confided Miss Challoner.

He grinned. ‘You’re not a good enough shot, my dear.’ He struggled into his coat, and then pulled a chair to the fire. ‘Sit down,’ he said. She hesitated and he drew one of his own pistols from his pocket and gave it to her. ‘Shoot me with that next time,’ he recommended. ‘You’ll find it easier.’

She sat down, but though she smiled, her voice was serious when she answered. ‘If I shoot again, it had better be myself,’ she said.

He leaned forward and took the pistol away from her. ‘In that case, I’ll keep it.’ He looked at her frowni

ngly. ‘You had better explain,’ he said abruptly. ‘I’ve a notion I was right in my first reading of your character.’

‘What was that, sir?’

‘I thought you were devilish strait-laced.’

She nodded. ‘Yes, my lord,’ she said simply.

‘Then in God’s name, girl, what possessed you to play this hoyden’s trick on me?’

She clasped her hands in her lap. ‘If I tell you, my lord, I fear it will make you very angry.’

‘You can’t make me more angry than you’ve done already,’ he said. ‘I want the truth now. Let me have it, if you please!’

She was silent for a moment, looking into the fire. He sat still, watching her, and presently she said in her quiet way: ‘Sophia thought that she could make you wed her. She is very young and silly. My mother too –’ she coloured painfully – ‘is not very wise. I did not think that you would marry Sophia. I thought that you would try to make her your mistress, and I was afraid for her because – because she behaved – foolishly, and because I knew that you would ruin her.’ She paused, but he said nothing. ‘That letter you sent,’ she went on, ‘was directed to Miss Challoner. I am the elder, you see, and it came to my hand. I knew it was writ by you, but I opened it. Sophia never saw it, my lord.’

‘Then all you told me at Newhaven was a lie?’

Miss Challoner flushed. ‘Yes, sir, it was a lie. I wanted to be sure that you would never want to see Sophia again and it seemed to me that if only I could make you believe that she had tricked you – like you – you would be done with her for ever.’

‘You were right,’ said Vidal grimly.

‘Yes. Only I did not know that you would force me to go instead. I didn’t know I should be obliged to tell you all this. I thought you would let me go at once, and I could travel back to London, and only my mother and Sophia be the wiser. Of course, I see now that I was very foolish. But that is the whole truth, my lord.’

‘Foolish?’ he said. ‘You were mad! Good God, what a damnable muddle!’ He sprang up, and began to pace to and fro. Over his shoulder he threw at her: ‘You little fool, Sophia was never worth the risk you took. You may have saved her from me, but there will be others soon enough.’

‘Oh no,’ she said distressfully. ‘Oh no, my lord!’

‘I tell you, yes. Now what the devil’s to be done to get you out of this coil?’

‘If you would arrange a passage for me on the packet, my lord, I could manage very well,’ she said.