Read Devil's Cub Page 29


  ‘Rather rough-and-ready ones, sir. I tried to catch the blades in a coat.’

  ‘I am disappointed,’ he said. ‘I had imagined a far neater scheme. Were you hurt?’

  ‘A little, sir. His lordship’s sword scratched me, no more. That ended the duel. Mr Comyn said that he must tell Lord Vidal the truth about us, and feeling myself somewhat shaken, I retired to my chamber.’ She paused, and drew a long breath. ‘Before I had reached the stairway, his lordship’s mother arrived, accompanied, I think, by Lord Rupert Alastair. They did not see me, but I – I heard her grace – say to Lord Vidal – that he must not marry me, and I – I got into the diligence for Paris, which was at the door, and – and came here. That is all my story, sir.’

  A silence fell. Conscious of her host’s scrutiny, Miss Challoner averted her face. After a moment she said: ‘Having heard me, sir, do you still feel inclined to assist me out of my difficulty?’

  ‘I am doubly anxious to assist you, Miss Challoner. But since you have been so frank, I must request you to be yet franker. Am I right in assuming that you love Lord Vidal?’

  ‘Too well to marry him, sir,’ said Miss Challoner in a subdued voice.

  ‘May I ask why “too well”?’

  She raised her head. ‘How could I, sir, knowing that his parents would do anything in their power to prevent such a marriage? How could I let him stoop to my level? I am not of his world, though Sir Giles Challoner is my grandfather. Please do not let us speak any more of this! My mind is made up; my one dread now is that his lordship may pursue me to this place.’

  ‘I can safely promise you, my dear, that while you remain under my protection you are in no danger from Lord Vidal.’

  The words were hardly out of his mouth when the sound of voices outside came to Miss Challoner’s ears. She grew very white, and half rose from her chair. ‘Sir, he has come!’ she said, trying to be calm.

  ‘So I apprehend,’ he said imperturbably.

  Miss Challoner cast a frightened look round. ‘You promised I should be safe, sir. Will you hide me somewhere? We must be quick!’

  ‘I still promise that you shall be safe,’ he replied. ‘But I shall certainly not hide you. Let me recommend you to be seated once more… Come in!’

  One of the inn servants came in looking rather scared, and firmly shut the door. ‘Milor’, there is a gentleman outside demands to see the English lady. I told him she was supping with an English milor’, and he spoke through his teeth, thus: “I will see this English milor’,” he said. Milor’, he has the look of one about to do a murder. Shall I summon milor’s own servants?’

  ‘Certainly not,’ said milor’. ‘Admit this gentleman.’

  Miss Challoner put out her hand impulsively. ‘Sir, I beg you will not! If my lord is in one of his rages I cannot answer for what he may do. I have a great alarm lest your years should not protect you from his violence. Is there no way I can escape from this room unseen?’

  ‘Miss Challoner, I must once more request you to be seated,’ said milor’, bored. ‘Lord Vidal will lay violent hands on neither of us.’ He looked across at the serving-man. ‘I do not in the least understand why you are standing there goggling at me,’ he said. ‘Admit his lordship.’

  The servant withdrew; Miss Challoner, standing still beside her chair, looked down rather helplessly at her host. She wondered what would happen when my lord came in. A clock had chimed midnight somewhere in the distance not long since; it was a very odd hour at which to be found supping with a strange gentleman, however venerable he might be, and she feared that the Marquis’s jealous temper might flare up with disastrous results. There seemed to be no hope of making her host understand that the Marquis in a black rage was scarcely responsible for his actions. The gentleman was maddeningly imperturbable: he was even smiling a little.

  She heard a quick step in the hall; Vidal’s voice said sharply: ‘Stable my horse, one of you. Where is this Englishman?’

  Miss Challoner laid her hand on the back of her chair, and grasped it as though for support. The servant said: ‘I will announce m’sieur.’

  He was cut short. ‘I’ll announce myself,’ said his lordship savagely.

  A moment later the door was flung open, and the Marquis strode in, his fingers hard clenched on his riding-whip. He cast one swift smouldering glance across the room, and stopped dead, a look of thunderstruck amazement on his face. ‘Sir!’ he gasped.

  The gentleman at the head of the table looked him over from his head to his heels. ‘You may come in, Vidal,’ he said suavely.

  The Marquis stayed where he was, one hand still on the doorknob. ‘You here!’ he stammered. ‘I thought…’

  ‘Your reflections are quite without interest, Vidal. No doubt you will shut that door in your own good time.’

  To Miss Challoner’s utter astonishment the Marquis shut it at once, and said stiffly: ‘Your pardon, sir.’ He tugged at his cravat. ‘Had I known that you were here –’

  ‘Had you known that I was here,’ said the elder man in a voice that froze Miss Challoner to the marrow, ‘you would possibly have made your entrance in a more seemly fashion. You will permit me to tell you that I find your manners execrable.’

  The Marquis flushed, and set his teeth. An incredible and dreadful premonition seized Miss Challoner. She looked from the Marquis to her host, and her hand went instinctively to her cheek. ‘Oh, good God!’ she said, aghast. ‘Are you – can you be – ?’ She could get no further. The look of amusement crept back into the gentleman’s eyes. ‘As usual, you are quite right, Miss Challoner. I am that unscrupulous and sinister person so aptly described by you a while back.’

  Miss Challoner’s tongue seemed to tie itself into knots. ‘I can’t – I would not – there is nothing I can say, sir, except that I ask your pardon.’

  ‘There is not the smallest need, Miss Challoner, I assure you. Your reading of my character was most masterly. The only thing I find hard to forgive is your conviction that you had met me before. I don’t pretend to be flattered by the likeness you evidently perceived.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ said the Marquis politely.

  Miss Challoner walked away to the fireplace. ‘I am ashamed,’ she said. Real perturbation sounded in her voice. ‘I had no business to say what I did. I see now that I was quite at fault. For the rest – had I known who you were I would never have told you all that I did.’

  ‘That would have been a pity,’ said his grace. ‘I found your story extremely illuminating.’

  She made a hopeless little gesture. ‘Please permit me to retire, sir.’

  ‘You are no doubt fatigued after the many discomforts you have suffered to-day,’ agreed his grace, ‘but I apprehend that my son – whose apologies I beg to offer – is come here expressly to see you. I really think that you would be well advised to listen to anything he may have to say.’

  ‘I can’t!’ she said, in a suffocated way. ‘Please let me go!’

  The Marquis came quickly across the room to her side. He took her hands in his strong clasp, and said in a low voice: ‘You should not have fled from me. My God, do you hate me so much? Mary, listen to me! I’ll force nothing on you, but I beg of you, accept my name! There’s no other way I can right you in the eyes of the world. You must wed me! I swear to you on my honour I’ll not hurt you. I won’t come near you unless you bid me. Father, tell her she must marry me! Tell her how needful it is!’

  His grace said placidly: ‘I find myself quite unable to tell Miss Challoner anything of the kind.’

  ‘What, have you been one hour in her company and not seen how infinitely above me she is?’ the Marquis cried hotly.

  ‘By no means,’ said the Duke. ‘If Miss Challoner feels herself able to become your wife I shall consider myself to be vastly in her debt, but out of justice to her I am bound to advise her to con
sider well before she throws herself away so lamentably.’ He regarded Miss Challoner blandly. ‘My dear, are you sure you cannot do better for yourself than to marry Vidal?’

  A laugh escaped the Marquis. He drew Miss Challoner closer. ‘Mary, look at me! Mary, little love!’

  ‘I am of course loth to interrupt you, Vidal, but I desire to inform Miss Challoner that there is no reason why she should accept your hand unless she chooses.’ The Duke rose, and came towards them. The Marquis let Miss Challoner go. ‘You appear to be a woman of so much sense,’ said his grace, ‘that I find it hard to believe you can really desire to marry my son. I beg you will not allow the exigencies of your situation to weigh with you. If marriage with Vidal is distasteful to you I will arrange matters for you in some other way.’

  Miss Challoner gazed down into the fire. ‘I cannot… I – the Duchess – my sister – oh, I do not know what to say!’

  ‘The Duchess need not trouble you,’ said his grace. He walked to the door, and opened it. He glanced back, and said languidly: ‘By the way, Vidal’s morals are rather better than mine.’ He went out, and the door closed softly behind him.

  The Marquis and Miss Challoner were left confronting one another. She did not look at him, but she knew that his eyes never wavered from her face. He made no movement to recapture her hands; he said slowly: ‘Until you ran away with Comyn, I never knew how much I loved you, Mary. If you won’t marry me, I shall spend the rest of my life striving to win you. I’ll never rest till I’ve got you. Never, do you understand?’

  A smile trembled on her lips. ‘And if I do marry you, my lord? You’ll let me go my own road? You’ll not come near me unless I wish it? You’ll not fly into rages with me, nor tyrannise over me?’

  ‘I swear it,’ he said.

  She came to him, her eyes full of tender laughter. ‘Oh, my love, I know you better than you know yourself !’ she said huskily. ‘At the first hint of opposition, you’ll coerce me shamefully. Oh, Vidal! Vidal! ’

  He had caught her in his arms so fiercely that the breath was almost crushed out of her. His dark face swam before her eyes for an instant, then his mouth was locked to hers, in a kiss so hard that her lips felt bruised. She yielded, carried away half-swooning on the tide of his passion. But in a moment she struggled to get her hands free, and at once his hold on her slackened. She flung up her arms round his neck, and with a queer little sound between a sob and a laugh, buried her face in his coat.

  Nineteen

  Miss Challoner appeared at the breakfast hour next morning rather shy, her face delicately tinged with colour. She found both the Marquis and his father in the parlour, and an elderly dapper little Frenchman whom she discovered to be his grace’s valet.

  The Marquis carried her hand to his lips, and held it there for a moment. His grace said in his bored voice: ‘I trust you slept well, child. Pray be seated. Gaston, you will take my chaise immediately to Dijon, where you will find her grace.’

  ‘Bien, monseigneur.’

  ‘You will bring her to this place. Also my Lord Rupert, Miss Marling, and Mr Comyn. That is all, Gaston.’

  There had been a day when Gaston would have been appalled by such an order, but twenty-five years in Avon’s service had left their mark.

  ‘Bien, monseigneur,’ he replied without the smallest sign of surprise and bowed himself out.

  The Marquis said impetuously: ‘I’ll make that fellow Hammond marry us, Mary, at once.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Miss Challoner equably.

  ‘You will be married,’ said his grace, ‘in Paris, at the Embassy.’

  ‘But, sir –’

  ‘A little coffee, my lord?’ said Miss Challoner.

  ‘I never touch it. Sir –’

  ‘If his grace wishes you to be married at the Embassy, my lord, I won’t be married anywhere else,’ stated Miss Challoner calmly.

  The Marquis said: ‘You won’t, eh? Sir, it’s very well, but it will cause a deal of talk.’

  ‘I rather think that it will,’ agreed Avon. ‘I had no time on my way through Paris to arrange the details. But I have no doubt that my friend Sir Giles will have done so by this time.’

  Miss Challoner regarded him in frank wonderment. ‘Is my grandfather in Paris then, sir?’

  ‘Certainly,’ said his grace. ‘I should tell you, my child, that officially you are in his company.’

  ‘Am I, sir?’ Miss Challoner blinked at him. ‘Then you did meet him at Newmarket?’

  ‘Let us say, rather, that he came to find me at Newmarket,’ he amended. ‘He is staying in an hôtel which he has hired for some few weeks. You, my dear Mary, are at present keeping your room, on account of some slight disorder of the system. The betrothal between yourself and my son is of long, though secret standing. Hitherto’ – his grace touched his lips with his napkin, and laid it down – ‘Hitherto, both Sir Giles and myself have refused our consent on your marriage.’

  ‘Have you?’ said Mary, quite fascinated.

  ‘Obviously. But Vidal’s banishment to France so attacked your sensibilities, my dear child, that you seemed to be in danger of going into a decline. This induced Sir Giles and myself to relent.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ begged Miss Challoner. ‘Not a decline, sir! I am not such a poor creature!’

  ‘I am desolated to be obliged to contradict you, Mary, but you were certainly on the brink of a decline,’ said Avon firmly.

  Miss Challoner sighed. ‘Well, if you insist, sir… What next?’

  ‘Next,’ said Avon, ‘the Duchess and myself came to Paris to grace the ceremony with our presence. We have not yet arrived, but we shall do so in a day or two. I imagine we are somewhere in the neighbourhood of Calais at the moment. When we do arrive we shall hold a rout-party in your honour. You will be formally presented to society as my son’s future wife. Which reminds me, that I cannot sufficiently praise your admirable discretion in refusing to go about when you sojourned with my cousin Elisabeth.’

  Miss Challoner felt herself bound to say: ‘There is one person who met me at the Hôtel Charbonne, sir. The Vicomte de Valmé.’

  ‘You can leave Bertrand to me,’ interposed the Marquis. ‘This is all very well thought of, sir, but when does our marriage take place?’

  ‘Your marriage, my son, takes place when Miss Challoner has had time to buy her bride-clothes. I shall leave you to decide the rest. My ingenuity falls short of planning your wedding trip.’

  ‘You surprise me, sir. I shall take you into Italy, Mary. Will you come with me?’

  ‘Yes, sir, with all my heart,’ said Mary, smiling at him.

  His hand went out to her across the table. The Duke said drily: ‘Delay your affecting demonstrations a moment longer, Vidal. I have to inform you that your late adversary was, when I left England, on the road to recovery.’

  ‘My late adversary?’ frowned his lordship. ‘Oh, Quarles! Was he, sir?’

  ‘You do not appear to feel any undue interest in his fate,’ remarked Avon.

  The Marquis was looking at Mary. He said casually: ‘It makes no odds to me now, sir. He can live for all I care.’

  ‘How very magnanimous!’ said his grace with gentle satire. ‘Perhaps it may interest you to learn that the gentleman has been – er – induced to make a statement which obviates the need for your exile.’

  Vidal turned his head, surveying his father with candid admiration. ‘I should like to know how you induced him to make such a statement, sir, I admit. But I did not leave England for fear of the runners.’

  Avon smiled. ‘Did you not, my son?’

  ‘No, sir, and you know it. I left at your command.’

  ‘Very proper,’ said his grace, rising. ‘I have no doubt I shall be weak enough to command your return – when you get back from Italy.’ His eyes rested for an inst
ant on Miss Challoner. ‘I comfort myself with the reflection that your wife will possibly be able to curb your desire – I admit, a natural one for the most part – to exterminate your fellows.’

  ‘I shall try not to disappoint you, sir,’ said Miss Challoner demurely.

  It was past noon when Gaston returned with his charges. Miss Challoner felt extremely nervous of meeting the Duchess of Avon, but that lady’s entrance put all her fears to flight. Her grace came into the parlour like a small whirlwind, and cast herself into her husband’s arms. ‘Monseigneur!’ she cried joyfully. ‘I am so very glad you have come! I thought I should not have to tell you anything about it, but it is all so difficult I cannot manage it in the least, and Rupert will not try because he only thinks of getting all that wine home. Monseigneur, he has bought dozens and dozens of bottles of wine. I could not stop him. He says first he will hire a coach, and now he says no, it must go by canal.’

  ‘It must undoubtedly go by canal,’ said his grace, betraying a faint interest. He removed his ruffle from his wife’s clutch. ‘May I ask, Léonie, why you must needs elope with Rupert in this distressing fashion?’

  ‘But do you not know, then?’ she demanded. ‘If you don’t know, why are you here, Monseigneur? You are teasing me! Where is Dominique? Gaston said that he was with you.’

  ‘He is,’ said his grace.

  ‘Then of course you know. Oh, Monseigneur, he says he will marry that girl, and I have a great fear she is like the sister whom I found detestable!’

  The Duke took her hand and led her to Miss Challoner. ‘You shall judge for yourself,’ he said. ‘This is Miss Challoner.’

  The Duchess looked sharply up at him, and then at Mary, who stood still and looked gravely back at her. Léonie drew a long breath. ‘Voyons, are you the sister of that other one?’ she demanded, not very lucidly.

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Mary.

  ‘Vraiment? But it is not at all credible, I find. I do not want to be rude, but –’

  ‘In that case, my love, you had better refrain from making the comparisons that are on the lips of your very unguarded tongue,’ interposed his grace.