These Old Shades (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 1)

My dear Comte,’ said Fanny, in a voice of long-suffering, ‘I have not seen Justin since that terrible night.’

Armand threw out his hands.

‘But it is over a week ago!’ he cried. ‘Where is he? Where is the child?’

Lady Fanny cast up her eyes. Davenant it was who answered.

‘If we knew, Armand, we should be more at ease, I assure you. The last we saw of Avon was at Madame du Deffand’s.’

‘Where did he go?’ demanded Armand. ‘Did he not return here at all?’

Marling shook his head.

‘He vanished,’ he said. ‘We knew that he meant to set out for Anjou after the soirée, in search of Léonie, but he did not tell us exactly where he was bound. His valet is with him, and he has taken the light chaise. That is all we know.’

Armand sat down weakly.

‘But – but did he set out in his ball-dress?’ he said. ‘He must surely have returned here first to change it for something more convenable !’

‘He didn’t,’ Fanny replied positively. ‘That gold dress is not in his room. We looked.’

‘Fi, donc! ’ cried Armand. ‘Is he travelling through France in it?’

‘I should hardly think so.’ Davenant was amused. ‘He will have halted somewhere for the night, and if I know aught of Justin he did not set out without some baggage.’

Armand looked round helplessly.

‘And not one of you in his confidence!’ he said. ‘It becomes serious! Three times have I come to see –’

‘Four,’ said my lady wearily.

‘Is it so, madame? Four times, then, I have come to see if you have news of him, and of my niece! What can have happened, think you?’

Davenant looked at him.

‘We try not to think, Armand. Believe me, our anxiety is as great as yours. We do not know whether Léonie be alive or dead.’

Lady Fanny blew her nose, and cleared her throat.

‘And we can’t do anything!’ she said. ‘We must just sit idle, waiting!’

Marling patted her hand.

‘You at least have not been idle, my love.’

‘No, indeed!’ Armand turned to her. ‘Madame, your kindness to my unfortunate sister overwhelms me! I can find no words! That you should have brought her here, and housed her – Madame, I can only thank –’

‘Oh, fiddle!’ said Fanny, reviving. ‘What else could I do? She is in no fit case to be alone, I do assure you. At one time I feared she was like to die of her hysterics, pour soul! She has seen a priest, and since she wrote her confession I do think she is easier. If only Justin would send us word! I cannot sleep o’ nights for thinking of what may have befallen that poor, poor child!’

Davenant stirred the fire to a blaze.

‘In truth,’ he said, ‘there can be no ease for any of us, until we know her to be safe.’ His smile went awry. ‘The house is like a tomb since she left it.’

No one answered him. Rupert walked in, to an uncomfortable silence.

‘Hey, in the dumps again?’ he said breezily. ‘What, Armand here again? You’d best come and live with us, and ha’ done with it!’

‘I don’t know how you can find the heart to laugh, Rupert!’ said my lady.