These Old Shades (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 1)

‘Oh, of course, of course!’ Rupert assured him, sitting up hurriedly. He saw the twinkle, and sank back again. ‘Devil take you, Tony, you’re laughing at me! Ay, I’d a mind to see Justin’s latest. Is she alone at the Court?’

‘No, with a cousin of yours. Madam Field.’

‘What, not old cousin Harriet? Lud, what will Justin be at next? He’s got his eye fixed to the proprieties this time, eh?’

‘I believe it’s true that she is no more than his ward.’

Rupert cocked one incredulous eyebrow.

‘For which reason, my dear fellow, you’ll either treat her with becoming respect, or journey back to town.’

‘But, Tony – Damn it, you know Justin!’

‘I wonder if any of us do? I know this child.’

‘I’ll see for myself,’ said Rupert. He chuckled. ‘I’d give something to see Justin’s face when he finds I’ve been poaching on his land! Not that I want to anger him; he’s devilish unpleasant when he’s crossed.’ He paused, frowning prodigiously. ‘You know, Tony, I often wonder what he feels about me. He’s fond of Fanny, I’ll swear. He was devilish strict with her in the old days – never think it, would you? – But me – he gives me a handsome allowance these days, yet it’s seldom he has a friendly word for me.’

‘Do you want a friendly word from him?’ inquired Merivale, smoothing a wrinkle from his satin sleeve.

‘Oh, well! He’s my brother, y’know! Queer part of it is he used to take precious good care what happened to me when I was a youngster. He was always a damned smooth-tongued icicle, of course. I don’t mind telling you, Tony, I’m still something nervous of him.’

‘I don’t pretend to understand him, Rupert. I used to think there was good in him somewhere. The child – Léonie – worships him. Have a care to what you say in her presence!’

‘My dear fellow, it’s not likely I’d say aught –’

‘It’s more than likely,’ retorted Merivale. ‘Addle-pated young scamp!’

‘Now stap me, that’s not fair!’ cried Rupert, heaving himself up. ‘Scamp, did you say? What about the High Toby, my boy, eh?’

Merivale flung up his hand.

‘Touché! For the love of heaven, Rupert, don’t spread that tale about town!’

Rupert smoothed his ruffled hair, and managed to assume an expression of vast superiority.

‘Oh, I’m not such a fool as you think, Tony, I assure you!’

‘Well, thank God for that!’ answered Merivale.

Fifteen

Lord Rupert Makes the Acquaintance of Léonie

Rupert rode over to t

he Court the very next day and heralded his arrival by a prolonged peal on the door-bell, accompanied by several resounding knocks. Léonie was seated by the fire in the hall, and the commotion startled her a little. When the butler came to admit the visitor she rose, and peeped round the corner of the screen to see who it was. A gay, boisterous voice met her ears.

‘Hey, Johnson! Not dead yet? Where’s my cousin?’

‘Oh, it’s you, my lord?’ said the old man. ‘’Tis no one else would make a such a thundering on the door, to be sure. Madam’s within.’

Rupert strode past him into the hall. At sight of Léonie regarding him in some trepidity from the fireplace he swept off his hat and bowed.

‘Your pardon, mamzelle. Thunder an’ turf, what’s come over the place?’ He cast an astonished glance about him. ‘It’s been like a tomb for centuries, and now – !’

‘It’s my Lord Rupert, madam,’ explained Johnson apologetically. He frowned severely at his young master. ‘Ye can’t stay here, my lord. This is his Grace’s ward. Mistress Léonie de Bonnard.’

‘I’m at Merivale, old sobersides,’ said the graceless Rupert. ‘If you say I’m to go, mamzelle, I will.’