These Old Shades (31 page)

“Lord, you’re up early, Fan!”

“I came to bear you company,” she cooed, and went to sit by him, at the window.

“Wonders’ll never cease,” Rupert said. He felt that this amiability on Fanny’s part ought not to go unrewarded. “You look twenty this morning, Fan, ‘pon my soul you do!” he said handsomely.

“Dear Rupert! Do you really think so?”

“Ay,—that’ll do, though! Léonie has gone riding with his Grace.”

“Rupert,” said my lady.

“Ay, what?”

Fanny looked up.

“I have made up my mind to it Justin shall marry that child.”

Rupert was unperturbed.

“Will he, do you think?”

“My dear boy, he’s head over ears in love with her!”

“I know that—I’m not blind, Fan. But he’s been in love before.”

“You are most provoking, Rupert! Pray what has that to do with it?”

“He’s not married any of ‘em,” said my lord.

Fanny affected to be shocked.

“Rupert!”

“Don’t be prudish, Fanny! That’s Edward’s doing, I know.”

“Rupert, if you are minded to be unkind about dear Edward——”

“Devil take Edward!” said Rupert cheerfully.

Fanny eyed him for a moment in silence, and suddenly smiled.

“I am not come to quarrel with you, horrid boy. Justin would not take Léonie as his mistress.”

“No, damme, I believe you’re right. He’s turned so strict you’d scarce know him. But marriage——! He’d not be so easily trapped.”

“Trapped?” cried my lady. “It’s no such thing! The child has no notion of wedding him. And that is why he will want her to wife, mark my words!”

“He might,” Rupert said dubiously. “But—Lord, Fanny, he’s turned forty, and she’s a babe!”

“She is twenty, my dear, or near it. ‘Twould be charming! She will always think him wonderful, and she’ll not mind his morals, for she’s none herself; and he—oh, he will be the strictest husband in town, and the most delightful! She will always be his infant, I dare swear, and he ‘Monseigneur’. I am determined he shall wed her. Now what do you say?”

“I? I’d be pleased enough, but—egad, Fanny, we don’t know who she is! Bonnard? I’ve never met the name, and it hath a plaguey bourgeois ring to it, damme, so it has! And Justin—well, y’know, he’s Alastair of Avon, and it won’t do for him to marry a nobody.”

“Pooh!” said my lady. “I’ll wager my reputation she does not come of common stock. There’s some mystery, Rupert.”

“Any fool could tell that,” Rupert said frankly. “And if you asked me, Fan, I’d say she was related to Saint-Vire.” He leaned back in his chair and looked for surprise in his sister. It did not come.

“Where would be my wits if I’d not seen that?” demanded Fanny. “As soon as I heard that ‘twas Saint-Vire who carried her off I felt positive she was a base-born child of his.”

Rupert spluttered.

“Gad, would you have Justin marry any such?”

“I should not mind at all,” said my lady.

“He won’t do it,” Rupert said with conviction. “He’s a rake, but he knows what’s due to the family, I’ll say that for him.”

“Pho!” My lady snapped her fingers. “If he loves her he’ll not trouble his head over the family. Why, what did I care for the family when I married Edward?”

“Steady, steady! Marling has his faults, I’m not saying he hasn’t, but there’s no bad blood in his family, and you can trace him back to——”

“Stupid creature, could I not have had Fonteroy for the lifting of a finger? ay, or my Lord Blackwater, or his Grace of Cumming? Yet I chose Edward, who beside them was a nobody.”

“Damn it, he’s not base-born!”

“I would not have cared, I give you my word!”

Rupert shook his head.

“It’s lax, Fanny, ‘fore Gad it’s lax. I don’t like it.”

My lady pulled a face at him.

“Oh, tell Justin you do not like it, my dear! Tell him——”

“I’m not meddling in Justin’s affairs, I thank you. He’ll do as he likes, but I’ll lay you a monkey he weds no bastard.”

“Done!” said my lady. “Oh, Rupert! I lost my big emerald at play last week! I could have cried my eyes out, and Edward could only say that it must be a lesson to me!”

“That’s Edward all over,” nodded Rupert. “Don’t I know it!”

“No, you do not, tiresome boy! He will give me another emerald.” She blinked rapidly. “Indeed, he is very good to me. I wonder if he will come here? I vow I shall be miserable if he does not!”

Rupert’s eyes were on the street

“Well, he has come, and mighty
à propos
, too.”

“What! Is it really he, Rupert? You’re not teasing me?”

“No, it is he, right enough, and in a thundering rage by the look of him.”

Lady Fanny sighed ecstatically.

“Darling Edward! He will be very angry with me, I am sure.”

Marling came quickly in. He was travel-stained, and heavy-eyed from lack of sleep, and his mouth was set in an uncompromising fashion. He looked his pretty wife over in silence.

“That’s the last of us,” said Rupert jovially. “We’ve all the family now, glory be! Give you good morrow, Edward!”

Lady Fanny rose, and held out her hand.

“Edward, I protest this is foolish of you.”

He ignored the outstretched hand.

“You’ll return with me to-day, Fanny. I don’t brook your defiance.”

“Whew!” spoke Rupert under his breath. “Sa-sa—— Have at you!”

Lady Fanny tittered.

“Oh, sir, you are ungallant! Pray have you looked at yourself in the mirror? You come to me muddied and in disorder! And I who so love a man to be
point de vice
!”

“We’ll leave my appearance out of it, if you please. I’ve borne enough of your whims, Fanny. You’ll return with me to England.”

“Indeed, sir, do you think I shall?” The light of battle was in my lady’s eyes.

“You are my wife, madam.”

“But not your chattel, sir. Pray take that frown from your face! It likes me not.”

“Ay, do!” Rupert put in. “How did you leave my cousin, Marling?”

“Yes, sir, and
why
did you leave poor dear Harriet? It was not well-done of you, Edward.”

“Fanny, have you done? I warn you, I am in no mood for these tricks!”

“Now, careful, Fan, careful!” said Rupert, enjoying himself hugely. “He’ll disown you, so he will!”

Marling swung round to face him.

“Your pleasantries are ill-timed, Alastair. I believe we shall do better if you leave us.”

“How dare you, Edward? And the poor boy just out of his bed, with a wound in his shoulder that only escaped the lung by a bare inch!”

“I am not concerned with Rupert’s hurts,” said Marling cuttingly. “He will survive without my sympathy.”

“Ay, but damme, I shall suffer a relapse if I have to look on your gloomy countenance much longer!” retorted Rupert. “For God’s sake, smile, man!”

“Oh yes, Edward, do smile!” begged her ladyship. “It gives me a headache to see you frowning so.”

“Fanny, you will give me five minutes in private.”

“No, sir, I shall not. You are prodigious ill-natured to talk to me in this vein, and I protest I want no more of it.”

“There’s for you, Marling!” Rupert said. “Go and bespeak some breakfast. You’ll be better for it, I swear! ‘Tis the emptiness of you makes you feel jaundiced: I know the feeling well. A ham, now, and some pasties, with coffee to wash it down will make a new man of you, stap me if it won’t!”

Lady Fanny giggled. Marling’s brow grew blacker, his eyes harder.

“You’ll regret this, madam. You’ve trifled with me once too often.”

“Oh sir, I’m in no mood for your heroics! Pray keep them for Harriet! She has the taste for them, no doubt!”

“Try ‘em on Justin,” suggested Rupert. “Here he is, with Léonie. Lord, what a happy gathering!”

“For the last time, Fanny,—I shall not ask again—will you accord me a few minutes alone?”

“Alone?” echoed Rupert. “Ay, of course she will, as many as you like! Solitude’s the thing, so it is! Solitude, and a fat ham——”

“My dear Marling, I hope I see you well?” His Grace had come quietly in.

Marling picked up his hat.

“I am in excellent health, I thank you, Avon.”

“But his spirits!” said Rupert. “Oh, lud!”

“I confess,” Marling said steadily, “my spirits are a little—bruised.”

“Never say so!” Rupert feigned astonishment. “You’ve had a bad crossing, Edward, and your liver’s upside down.”

Avon turned.

“Your conversation is always so edifying, Rupert. Yet I believe we can dispense with it.”

Rupert collapsed promptly. My lady tossed her head. Avon went to the side-table, and poured out a glass of burgundy, and offered it to Marling, who waved it aside.

“I came, sir, to fetch my wife home. As she declines to accompany me there is no more to be said. I’ll take my leave of you.”

Avon put up his quizzing glass, and through it regarded my lady.

“Yes, Justin. I do. I am coming to Paris with you.”

“I am gratified, of course,” said his Grace. “Nevertheless, my dear, you will go with your husband.”

“I thank you!” Marling laughed harshly. “I do not take her an she comes at your bidding! She must come at mine.”

“I w-won’t go at anyone’s b-bidding!” Lady Fanny’s face puckered like that of a child about to cry. “You are very unkind!”

Marling said nothing. She dabbed at her eyes.

“You come—bullying, and—and scowling—I won’t go with you. I hate you, Edward!”

“It needed only that,” said Marling, and turned to the door.

There was a rustle of silks as my lady fled across the room.

“Oh, Edward, I didn’t mean it, you know I didn’t!”

He held her away from him.

“You will return with me?”

She hesitated, then looked up into his face. Two large tears stole down her cheeks. Marling took her hands, and pressed them.

“In truth,” he said gently, “I cannot bear to see you weep, love. Go with Justin.”

At that she cast herself into his arms, and sobbed.

“Oh Edward, I will come! I truly will! You must f-forgive me!”

“My dear!” He caught her to him.

“I am decidedly
de trop
,” remarked his Grace, and poured out another glass of burgundy.

“I’ll come, Edward, but I do—oh, I do want to go to Paris!”

“Then go, sweetheart. I’d not deny you your pleasure.”

“But I c-can’t bear to leave you!” sobbed Fanny.

“May I be allowed to make a suggestion?” His Grace came slowly forward. “There is really no occasion for these heart-burnings. The matter is very simple.” He swept Marling a magnificent leg. “Pray come with us to Paris, my dear Edward.”

“Oh, I thank you, but——”

“Yes, I know,” said Avon languidly. “You would prefer not to enter the unhallowed portals of my abode.”

Marling flushed.

“I protest——”

“It is quite unnecessary, believe me. I would not propose such a distasteful plan were it not for the fact that I have need of Fanny.”

“I don’t understand why you should need her, Avon.”

His Grace was incredulous.

“My very dear Edward, I should have thought that with your strict sense of propriety the reason must positively leap to your understanding.”

“Léonie! I had forgot.” Marling stood irresolute. “Can you find no other lady to chaperon her?”

“I could doubtless find an hundred, but I require a hostess.”

“Then Fanny had best stay with you. I will go back to England.”

Fanny sighed.

“Edward, if you will not come to Paris I must return with you. But I do wish that you would come!”

At that moment Léonie appeared, and clapped her hands at sight of Marling.

“
Parbleu
, it is M. Marling!
Bonjour, m’sieur
!”

He smiled, and kissed her hand.

“I hope I see you well, child? Your pretty colour answers me.”

“My infant finds favour in the austere eyes,” murmured his Grace. “Infant, I am trying to prevail upon Mr. Marling to honour my poor house with his presence. Pray add your entreaties to mine.”

“Yes?” Léonie looked from one to the other. “Please will you come, m’sieur? I shall ask Monseigneur to invite M. Davenant also.”

In spite of himself Avon smiled.

“A happy thought,
ma fille
.”

“Why, child, I believe I must not,” Marling said. “You shall take her ladyship, and let me go home.”

“Ah, bah!” said Léonie. “It is because you do not like Monseigneur, is it not?”

“My infant is nothing if not outspoken,” remarked Avon. “That is the matter in a nutshell, child.”