These Old Shades (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 1) - Page 157

‘Léonie?’ he said sharply.

‘Who else?’ demanded my lady. ‘Poor, poor child! She left this for me, and one for you. Take it!’

His Grace broke the seal of his note, and spread out the thin sheet. Lady Fanny watched him while he read, and saw his mouth set hard.

‘Well?’ she said. ‘What does she write to you? For heaven’s sake tell me!’

The Duke handed the note to her, and went to the fire, and stared down into it.

Monseigneur, –

I have run away from you because I have discovered thatt I am not what you Think me. I told you a Lie when I said that Madame de Verchoureux had not Spoken to me the other Night. She told me thatt Every One knows I am a Base-born daughter of Saint-Vire. It is Quite True, Monseigneur, for on Thursday I slipped out with my Maid, and went to his House, and asked him if it were indeed so. Monseigneur, it is not convenable thatt I stay with you. I cannot bear thatt I should bring Scandal to you, and I know thatt I must do this if I stay with you, for M. de Saint-Vire will say thatt I am his Bastard, and your Mistress. I do not want to go, Monseigneur, but it is best thatt I should. I tried to Thank you To-night, but you would not let me. Please, you must not be anxious for me. I wanted at first to Kill myself, but then I saw thatt thatt is Cowardly. I am Quite Safe, and I am going very far away to Some One who will be good to me, I know. I have left all my Things, except the Money you gave me, which I must take to pay my journey, and the Sapphire Chain which you gave me when I was your Page. I thought you would not Mind if I took thatt,

because it is the only thing I have kept which you gave me. Marie goes with me, and Please you must not be Angry with the lackeys for letting me go, for they thought I was Rachel. I leave for Rupert, and M. Davenant, and M. Marling, and Milor’ Merivale my so Great Love for them. And for you, Monseigneur. I cannot write it. I am Glad thatt we were Alone to-night.

A Dieu

Infant.

Lady Fanny’s face worked for a minute, then she whisked out her handkerchief and cried into it, regardless of paint and powder. His Grace picked up the note, and read it through again.

‘Poor little infant!’ he said softly.

‘Oh Justin, we must find her!’ sniffed her ladyship.

‘We shall find her,’ he answered. ‘I think I know where she has gone.’

‘Where? Can you go after her? Now? She is such a babe, and she has only a foolish abigail with her.’

‘I believe that she has gone to – Anjou.’ His Grace folded the note and put it into his pocket. ‘She has left me because she fears to endanger my – reputation. It is somewhat ironic, is it not?’

Lady Fanny blew her nose vigorously, and gave yet another watery sniff.

‘She loves you, Justin.’

He was silent.

‘Oh Justin, do you not care? I felt so certain that you loved her!’

‘I love her – too well to marry her, my dear,’ said his Grace.

‘Why?’ Lady Fanny put away her handkerchief.

‘There are so many reasons,’ sighed his Grace. ‘I am too old for her!’

‘Oh, fiddle!’ said my lady. ‘I thought that maybe ’twas her birth you cavilled at.’

‘Her birth, Fanny, is as good as yours. She is Saint-Vire’s legitimate daughter.’

Lady Fanny gaped at him.

‘In her place he has put that clod you know as de Valmé. His name is Bonnard. I have waited too long, but I strike now.’ He picked up a handbell, and rang it. To the lackey who came he said: ‘You will go at once to the Hôtel de Châtelet, and request M. Marling and M. Davenant to return at once. Ask Milor’ Merivale to accompany them. You may go.’ He turned again to his sister. ‘What did the child write to you?’

‘Only farewell!’ Lady Fanny bit her lip. ‘And I wondered why she kissed me so sweetly to-night! Oh dear, oh dear!’

‘She kissed my hand,’ Avon said. ‘We have all been fools this day. Do not distress yourself, Fanny. I shall bring her back if I have to search the world for her. And when she comes she will come as Mademoiselle de Saint-Vire.’

‘But I don’t understand how – oh, here is Rupert! Yes, Rupert, I have been crying, and I do not care. Tell him, Justin.’

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