Noble Satyr: A Georgian Historical Romance (23 page)

Roxton had spied the Comte de Salvan
immediately upon entering the room. He heard Antonia’s stammered
apology but when she shrank toward him he propelled her forward
with a hand firmly in the small of her back.

“My dear Salvan, we had all but given you up
visiting my house,” he drawled. “I trust you have spent a pleasant
afternoon?”

“A most pleasant afternoon,” replied the
Comte. He presented the newcomers with a magnificent bow, the long
white ruffles of one sleeve sweeping the carpet. He could not even
bring himself to look at his cousin such was his distraction with
Antonia. He openly appraised her from head to foot allowing his
eyeglass to linger longer than was polite at the low-cut bodice
that showcased the high swell of her full breasts. He smiled
appreciatively and let fall the glass. “A most pleasant afternoon,”
he echoed. “I am all joy for your sister and M’sieur Vallentine. It
was a shock to me, this announcement, because it was so sudden! I
came expecting to find you home. My son, he said you were at home.
He was here this morning, yes? To visit you, mademoiselle. He said
you were recovered but I had no idea how—how delightfully
recovered…” He dared to move closer, but when Antonia shivered her
disgust he smiled acidly. “Come now, my dear, have you no kind
words for one who has longed to see you up and about and fully
yourself again? Your illness has deprived Salvan of your beauty and
your so unusual wit.”

With a push from the Duke Antonia went
forward and reluctantly held out her hand.

“I am well, thank you, M’sieur le Comte,”
she said and managed a pretty curtsey, but she could not bring
herself to smile.

When the painted little man kissed her hand
it was Vallentine who grunted his displeasure at the Comte’s
flowery mannerisms. And when Salvan refused to relinquish his hold
on Antonia’s wrist and had her sit close beside him on the sofa it
was Vallentine who was out of his chair, but a quick dark look from
the Duke and he sat down again.

“Maurice has done you justice,
mademoiselle,” Salvan was saying. “And to see you laugh so prettily
with
mon cousin
the Duke, it fills me with joy. The air at
court must not suit. Yet, Paris? Or perhaps it is another
ingredient which fires your so beautiful eyes? I was just saying to
Estée, Roxton, that the Parisian air does not suit Thérèse
Duras-Valfons at all. She was in a mute rage last night, was she
not, Estée? And all because you did not attend her soirée. It
annoyed her beyond belief, your absence. I think she will go back
to court and to the arms of that sniveling lover of hers, you know
the one, the English Baron, if you are not careful. But,” and he
kissed Antonia’s hand a second time, “Salvan, he understands the
reason for your momentary distraction from the talented and
blue-eyed Thérèse…”

“Coffee?” asked Madame in a voice that
broke. She signaled to the maid who hovered at the door to come
closer. “You both must be thirsty after your adventures. Would you
like coffee, Antonia? Lucian, what say you?”

“Splendid idea,” voiced his lordship
heartily. He sauntered over to where the Duke still stood and
whispered near his ear. “Duvalier has it all arranged. Just as you
ordered. I enlisted the help of your valet, too.”

But Roxton was not attending him. He was
staring fixedly at his cousin. His cousin’s methods of seduction
had always disinterested him. Occasionally he was amused by them.
But watching him visually strip Antonia bare filled him with
repugnance. Just as earlier in the day so too had the Vicomte’s
outrageous behavior. It had taken all his self-control not to turn
on the youth with violence. As it did now to mask his true feelings
with a façade of indifference. Such intensity of emotion was rare
in him, but he was not blind to its source which was surprising and
more than a little disturbing. When he heard the Comte ask after
Antonia’s damaged shoulder he thought it time to intervene.

“If you cannot make light conversation which
will amuse us I suggest you keep your pretty mouth shut,” said the
Duke. “Estée, where is the promised refreshment?”

Lord Vallentine sat forward and smiled at
Antonia. “So you had a pleasant day, little one?”

Glad to be able to finally turn away from
the Comte’s penetrating gaze Antonia nodded eagerly. “We had a
wonderful day, Vallentine. Did we not, M’sieur le Duc?”

“Very enjoyable.”

“Tell us about this fête you went to and
about your nuncheon in the village,” coaxed Madame.

Antonia was only too pleased to oblige.
Anything to forget the Comte’s presence. “At this ancient
village—it was ancient because there is a road built by the Romans,
and a water-wheel we do not know how old, but it is old—we fell in
company with a group of travellers whose French tongue was not the
best,” explained Antonia. “They were from Venice, you see, and all
old gentlemen. I do not know what they are doing in France for they
did not say. I think perhaps they are just curious and want to see
a little of the world. But as not all of them were fluent in French
we spoke to them in their own tongue.” She looked reproachfully at
his lordship. “You must take back what you said, Vallentine,
because Monseigneur speaks Italian just as well as anyone I
know!”

“What did I say?” stuttered his lordship. “I
ain’t a mind reader, chit. Don’t look at me in that way, Roxton. I
don’t remember for God’s sake! Ask Antonia.”

“I will not repeat it now,” said Antonia
loftily, the dimple showing itself.

Madame smiled at the treatment of her
betrothed. “Go on with your story, child. Lucian you can berate
over dinner.”

“Yes, I am sorry. Vallentine interrupted
me—”

“Inter—Oh, I’ll be quiet!” mumbled his
lordship.

“These gentlemen were so happy to hear their
own tongue that we talked with them for almost an hour. And one of
them was an artist, for while we conversed he took out his blotter
and inks and made a very tolerable likeness of me which he
presented to M’sieur le Duc.” She turned to Madame and whispered.
“You will never guess what this Venetian said to Monseigneur! I
thought it amusing, but he was very put out and went to great pains
to correct M—”

“That will do, Antonia,” said Roxton
reproachfully. “Estée is not the least interested.”

“I am.”

“And if she ain’t, I am!”

“If it has amused mademoiselle,” put in
Salvan, “then we too shall be amused.”

“No, Antonia,” said the Duke.

“Come and whisper the Venetian’s words in my
ear,” suggested his lordship. “If I think it worth repeating then
you may say it out loud.”

“Very fair,” agreed the Comte.

Antonia leapt up at Lord Vallentine’s
invitation but half-way across the room she had a change of heart
and instead crossed to the Duke’s chair. She stood with her back to
the Comte and Estée. “I will not tell them if you do not wish it,”
she said in a low voice. “I thought it amusing only because you
were so shocked he mistook you for my father. You were very angry
with him I think. But is that such a bad thing? At least he did not
have the indecency to suggest you were my lover and I your
whore.”

The Duke drew her closer. “Believe me,
Antonia, I am no fit man for you in either role. Do you
understand?”

She frowned, head tilted to one side. “No,
Monseigneur. In my heart I do not believe that.”

This intimate scene was too much for the
Comte. Although he could not see their faces or hear their words
their close proximity was enough to have the Comte out of his
chair. He jumped to his heels and slammed the end of his cane into
the deep pile of the carpet with a thud. “Roxton! Attend to me! We
must speak, you and I.
Parbleu
! It is urgent!”

Lord Vallentine who had been regarding the
Duke and Antonia with a silly sentimental smile was also on his
feet, but it was Madame who intervened.

“Antonia, it is late,” she said in a nervous
voice. “You must change your travelling gown before dinner. I have
had your girl lay out the oyster silk Maurice thought suited you
best.”

Antonia hesitated. Still holding the Duke’s
hand she looked from Madame to the Duke, from the Comte to Lord
Vallentine, whose fingers stole to where the hilt of his sword
would normally rest at his side, and back to the Duke.

“A word, Roxton,” stated Salvan shrilly,
taking a step closer to his cousin. Lord Vallentine did
likewise.

“You won’t let him take me, will you?”
Antonia whispered in panic. “Promise me you won’t give me to
him.”

Madame put an arm about Antonia’s shoulders.
She wished her brother would say something but he just sat there
looking at Antonia with a blank expression. “Come, child, it is
time we were changing for dinner.”

Antonia pulled away from her. “No! I want
Monseigneur to promise—”

Roxton kissed her hand, a fleeting look at
his cousin who hovered at the girl’s back. “Go with Estée,” he said
and stood up to attend to the Comte. “My dear, you really must
learn to control such ill humors. I fear for your health. Have you
been bled lately? There is your problem, Salvan. A good bleeding
would restore your usual good humor. Would it not, Vallentine?”

“Aye,” answered his lordship with a grim
smile.

The Duke sensed the ladies had not left the
room and he turned on them angrily. “
Allons
! Take the girl
away,” he growled and turned back to the Comte with a cool smile.
“Surely, whatever you have to say can wait until I’ve had my
dinner?”

“No! That is—It is very important I speak
with you immediately. You know why I am here.”

“That ain’t very polite, Salvan. Roxton’s
request is a simple one.”

“Yes, but I—”

“The least you can do in consideration of
how your son acted this morning”

“Acted, m’sieur?”

“Yes. Not very gentlemanly of him to force
his damned attentions on the girl—”

“What!” gasped the Comte. “He told me
nothing of this. What did he do, Roxton?”

“It don’t bear repeatin’,” said Lord
Vallentine as he guided the little man to the door. “Just be glad
Roxton had the presence of mind to forgive the lad his forwardness.
Now, if he’d been in my house, well, I’d not have let him off so
damned lightly. But let’s not discuss it. We want our dinner and
you’ll be wanting yours. It’ll be a long affair so you needn’t be
on the doorstep too soon. I’m sure you understand the
situation—”

“Understand?” the Comte scoffed. “I only
concede because Roxton, he is
mon cousin
. It is a family
matter and so I am a gentleman. As a man I recognize the power of
the little
demoiselle’s
attractions. So, I let him have his
last supper!” He laughed at his own wit and allowed himself to be
guided down the sweeping stairs to the foyer. “A last supper, eh,
Vallentine?”

“I heard and it ain’t humorous.”

Lord Vallentine pulled the Comte by his
great cuff out of earshot of the porter and an attending footman.
“Now listen to me, Salvan,” he said quietly. “If I had my way you’d
not get a greasy paw on that girl. But it ain’t my affair, so I
don’t draw my blade and teach you the lesson you deserve for
preying on the likes of innocents. And one other thing I’d like you
to remember next time you feel free and easy ’bout spouting my
friend’s intentions about the place: You’ve got it all wrong about
Roxton. I’ll tell you this and you won’t repeat it because you’re a
sensible man, and I’ll run you through if I hear one whisper of it:
the Duke’s only got the girl’s best interests at heart, nothin’
more or less. He ain’t goin’ to seduce her, he merely seeks to
protect her.”

“
Malheur
! A man such as
mon
cousin
not want to seduce a pretty female?” exclaimed the Comte
with a swagger to his gait. “With his reputation? That I do not
believe! I laugh at the very idea!”

“Remember, one word and I’ll run you
through.”

The Comte de Salvan affected a wounded look.
He permitted a footman to shrug him into his roquelaure and another
to open the door to his sedan-chair. “Why would I repeat what you
have told me because no one would believe me should I say a word.
And I will forgive you your great rudeness in threatening me
because, although you are a barbarian, you are to marry Estée. It
is for her sake I will not be offended. That you are to marry her
causes me great sadness. It wounds me but I shall live. You think
Salvan cares nothing for what is in the child’s best interests. You
are wrong, my friend. Mademoiselle will be well cared for once she
is my daughter-in-law. My son, I shall see to it, will make her
happy. All will be respectable. I give you my word.”

Lord Vallentine watched the Comte assisted
into his sedan-chair and be carried away. He dragged himself up the
stairs to change for dinner. He had no faith whatsoever in the
Comte’s assurances.