The Masqueraders

‘Hardly, ma’am.’ Robin shrugged. ‘Do you?’

‘Me, I know nothing. Would he embark on it, do you think, if there were not some truth behind?’

‘Ma’am, you’ve heard him. He believes himself omnipotent.’

‘There’s the motto.’ Prudence spoke reflectively.

‘I don’t set great store by that. He may have had this in mind many a long day.’

‘How?’ She turned her head.

‘We don’t know when he came by these documents he holds,’ Robin pointed out. ‘As I see it he may have met the real Tremaine any time these forty years. When did Tremaine die? Or if he lives yet when had the old gentleman those papers from him? I believe this may have been deep laid.’

‘Ah, so do not I!’ Prudence came back into the room. ‘His genius lies in grasping opportunity at a moment’s notice. I’ll swear this was not in his mind when he swept us into the Rebellion.’

Robin was silent, puzzling over it. Came the page to announce Sir Anthony Fanshawe. Sir Anthony had called to fetch Mr Merriot to ride out past Kensington with him. Prudence went off, and my lady’s black eyes twinkled merrily.

‘That is a romance, not?’ she said.

Robin caught back a sigh. ‘I don’t see the happy ending, ma’am.’ He got up and began to pace the room. ‘I wish I saw my way,’ he said, pausing. He bit one finger-tip, frowning.

Her ladyship watched him. ‘You stand by the bon papa, yes?’

‘It seems likely. I see no other hope of a fair conclusion. This is to risk all for the slim chance of gaining all. Well, it has ever been our way. I might be off to France, taking Prue with me. That’s the safe road. I can fend a path for us both. But it’s the end to her romance.’

‘And to yours, mon enfant,’ said her ladyship softly.

‘Perhaps. That does not signify so much. I was, after all, born to this game. But Prue’s not. She hankers now after the secure life, wedded to the mountain, I suppose. It’s a pretty coil.’ He resumed his pacing. ‘I’ve thought on all this, ma’am. I don’t see the way to compass it, for the mountain’s a respectable gentleman, and we – well, to be plain, we’re adventurers. Now comes the old gentleman, in a preposterous guise, and – egad, it’s a forlorn hope, but the only one that I can perceive. If he can brave it out – why then, the Honourable Prudence becomes a fitting bride for an even greater man than the great Sir Anthony.’

She nodded. ‘That’s certain. Me, I do not see so very much to fear.’

‘I see a multitude of things, ma’am, and one more clearly than all the rest. He admitted himself there was somewhere a document bearing his name. If I but knew who holds it!’ He broke off, and compressed his lips.

‘You think you could obtain it, my child?’

There was a confident little laugh. ‘Let me have but wind of it!’ Robin said.

‘I shall see you yet as the heir of Barham,’ my lady prophesied, and went off to send out the cards for her next evening party.

Along the road to Kensington Prudence rode by Sir Anthony’s side, and talked idly of this and that. Sir Anthony rode a big raw-boned chestnut, and sat his horse well. The brute had tricksy manners, but he seemed to know his master, and responded to the slightest movement of the strong hand on the bridle.

Prudence herself had horsemanship. The bay mare from my lady’s stable chose to curvet all across the road, in a playful endeavour to throw her off. She swayed gracefully to the mare’s buckings, humoured her a little, and brought her up alongside her chestnut companion.

Sir Anthony sat easily in the saddle, watching her, a hand laid lightly on his hip. ‘She’s a little fresh,’ he remarked.

Prudence leaned forward to pat the mare’s neck. ‘Playful. There’s no vice.’

The mare reared up as though to protest against this reading of her character, and of a sudden all the indolence left Sir Anthony. He bent swiftly forward, and caught the mare’s bridle close to the bit before Prudence knew what he would be at. The mare was brought down by a man’s iron hand, but her rider sat unshaken.

Now, what possessed the man to do that? ‘She doesn’t throw me so easily, sir,’ Prudence said gently.

‘As I see.’ Sir Anthony pricked onward. ‘In all, you puzzle me, boy.’

Prudence studied the road ahead. ‘I do, sir?’ she said. ‘I don’t know why I should.’

The heavy-lidded eyes rested on her profile for a minute. ‘Don’t you?’ said Sir Anthony.

A pulse began to beat rather fast in her throat. She waited.