These Old Shades by Georgette Heyer

Jennifer shook her head at him.

  ‘Oh, my lord! Go on, Léonie. Tell me some more. The wretch has grossly deceived me, I’ll have you know.’

  ‘Mademoiselle,’ said Merivale, wiping his heated brow, ‘have pity!’

  ‘But tell me,’ she insisted. ‘Was it not very exciting to be a highwayman for one night?’

  ‘Very,’ he said gravely. ‘But not at all respectable.’

  ‘No,’ she agreed. ‘One does not always want to be respectable, I think. Me, I am a great trial to everybody, because I am not respectable at all. It seems that a lady may do many bad things and still be respectable, but if one speaks of such things as breeches then one is unladylike. I find it very hard.’

  His eyes danced. He tried to suppress a laugh, and failed.

  ‘Faith, you must come often to see us, mademoiselle! ’Tis not often we meet such a charming little lady.’

  ‘You must come to see me next,’ she answered. ‘That is right, is it not?’

  ‘I am afraid –’ began Jennifer uncomfortably.

  ‘His Grace and I do not visit,’ ended Merivale.

  Léonie flung up her hands.

  ‘Oh, parbleu! Everyone I meet is the same! It does not surprise me that sometimes Monseigneur is wicked when everybody is so unkind to him.’

  ‘His Grace has a way of making it difficult for one to be – er – kind to him,’ said Merivale grimly.

  ‘M’sieur,’ answered Léonie with great dignity, ‘it is not wise to speak thus of Monseigneur to me. He is the only person in the whole world who cares what happens to me. So you see I will not listen to people who try to warn me against him. It makes something inside me get all hot and angry.’

  ‘Mademoiselle,’ said Merivale, ‘I crave your pardon.’

  ‘I thank you, m’sieur,’ she said gravely.

  She came often to Merivale after that, and once dined there with Madam Field, who had no knowledge of the rift between Avon and Merivale.

  A fortnight passed, bringing no word from Justin, but at the end of it a travelling coach, loaded with baggage, arrived at Merivale, and a tall young exquisite leaped out. He was admitted into the house and met by Jennifer, who laughed when she saw him, and held out both her hands.

  ‘Why, Rupert! Have you come to stay?’

  He kissed her hands, and then her cheek.

  ‘Devil take it, Jenny, you’re too lovely, ’pon my soul you are! Lord, here’s Anthony! I wonder if he saw?’

  Merivale gripped his hand.

  ‘One of these days, Rupert, I’ll teach you a lesson,’ he threatened. ‘What’s to do? You’ve brought enough baggage for three men.’

  ‘Baggage? Nonsense, man! Why, there’s only a few things there, I give you my word! One must dress, y’know, one must dress. Anthony, what’s this fandangle about Justin? Fanny’s devilish mysterious, but the tale’s all over town that he’s adopted a girl! Stap me, but that’s –’ He broke off, remembering Jennifer’s presence. ‘I’ve come down to see for myself. God knows where Justin is! I don’t.’ He looked sharply at Merivale, consternation in his face. ‘He’s not at Avon, is he?’

  ‘Calm yourself,’ soothed Merivale. ‘He is not here.’

  ‘Praise the Lord for that. Who is the girl?’

  ‘A pretty child,’ Merivale answered guardedly.

  ‘Ay, I’d have guessed that. Justin had ever a nice taste in –’ Again he stopped. ‘Thunder an’ turf, I beg your pardon, Jenny! I’d forgot. Demmed careless of me!’ He looked ruefully at Merivale. ‘I must always be saying the wrong thing, Tony. It’s this rattle-pate of mine, and what with the bottle – well, well!’

  Merivale led him into the library, where a lackey came to them presently, bringing wine. Rupert settled his long length in a chair and drank deeply.

  ‘Truth to tell, Tony,’ he said confidently, ‘I’m more at ease when the ladies are not present. My tongue runs away with me, burn it! Not but what Jenny’s a devilish fine woman,’ he added hastily. ‘The wonder is that you admit me into your house. When one thinks ’twas my brother ran off with Jenny –’ He shook his head comically.

  ‘You’re always welcome,’ smiled Merivale. ‘I’ve no fear that you’ll seek to abduct Jenny.’

  ‘Lord, no! I’m not saying that I haven’t trifled somewhat with women now and then – one has to, y’know. Honour of the name, my boy – but I’ve no real taste for ’em, Tony, none at all.’ He refilled his glass. ‘’Tis a queer thing, when you come to think on’t. Here am I, an Alastair, with never an intrigue to my name. I feel it sometimes,’ he sighed, ‘’tis as though I were no true Alastair. Why, there’s never been one of us –’

  ‘I’d not crave the vice, Rupert,’ said Merivale dryly.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know! There’s Justin, now, and wherever he is there is sure to be some wench. I’m not saying aught against him, mind you, but we don’t love one another overmuch. I’ll say one thing for him, though: he’s not mean. I daresay you’ll not believe me, Tony, but since he came into that fortune of his I’ve not been in a sponging house once.’ He looked up with some pride. ‘Not once.’

  ‘It’s marvellous,’ Merivale agreed. ‘And have you really come down here to see Léonie?’

  ‘Is that her name? Ay, what else?’

  The grey eyes began to twinkle.

  ‘I thought mayhap ’twas to see myself and Jennifer?’

  ‘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.’

  Léonie’s nose wrinkled in perplexity.

  ‘Rupert? Oh, you are the brother of Monseigneur!’

  ‘Mon – ? Oh, ay, ay! That’s it!’

  Léonie skipped forward.

  ‘I am very pleased to see you,’ she said politely. ‘Now I curtsy and you kiss my hand, n’est-ce pas?’

  Rupert stared.

  ‘Ay, but –’

  ‘Eh bien! ’ Léonie sank, and rose, and held out her small hand. Rupert kissed it punctiliously.

  ‘I never before was told by a lady to kiss her hand,’ he remarked.

  ‘I should not have said it?’ she asked anxiously. ‘Voyons, these things are very difficult to learn! Where is Monseigneur, please?’

  ‘Lord, I don’t now, my dear! Ours is no united household, I give you my word!’

  Léonie looked at him gravely.

  ‘You are the young Rupert. I know. I have heard tell of you.’

  ‘Not a might of good, I’ll be bound. I’m the scapegrace of the family.’

  ‘Oh no! I have heard people speak of you in Paris, and I think they like you very much.’

  ‘Do they, by Gad? Do you come from Paris, my dear?’

  She nodded.

  ‘I was Monseigneur’s pa –’ She clasped her hands over her mouth, and her eyes danced.

  Rupert was greatly intrigued. He cast a shrewd glance at her short curls.

  ‘Pa – ?’

  ‘I must not say. Please do not ask me!’

  ‘You were never his page ?’

  Léonie stared down at her toes.

  ‘Here’s a romance!’ said Rupert, delighted. ‘His page, by all that’s marvellous!’

  ‘You must not tell!’ she said earnestly. ‘Promise!’

  ‘Mum as a corpse, my dear!’ he answered promptly. ‘I never thought to stumble on such a fairy tale! What are you doing cooped up here?’

  ‘I am learning to be a lady, milor’.’

  ‘Milor’ be damned, saving your presence! My name’s Rupert.’

  ‘Is it convenable for me to call you that?’ she inquired. ‘I do not know these things, you see.’

  ‘Convenable, my dear? I pledge you my word it is! Are you not my brother’s ward?’

  ‘Y-es.’

  ‘Eh bien, then, as you’d say yourself ! Fiend seize it, here’s my cousin!’

  Madam Field came down the stairs, peering out of her short-sighted eyes.

  ‘Well, to be sure! And is it indeed you, Rupert?’ she exclaimed.

  Rupert went forward to meet her.

  ‘Ay, cousin, it’s myself. I hope I see you in your customary good health?’

  ‘Save for a trifling touch of the gout. Léonie! You here?’

  ‘I presented myself, cousin. I believe I am something in the nature of an uncle to her.’

  ‘An uncle? Oh no, Rupert, surely not!’

  ‘I will not have you for an uncle,’ said Léonie with her nose in the air. ‘You are not enough respectable.’

  ‘My love!’

  Rupert burst out laughing.

  ‘Faith, I’ll none of you for a niece, child. You are too saucy.’

  ‘Oh no, Rupert!’ Madam assured him. ‘Indeed, she is very good!’ She looked at him doubtfully. ‘But, Rupert, do you think you should be here?’

  ‘Turning me from mine own roof, cousin?’

  ‘I protest, I did not mean –’

  ‘I am come to make the acquaintance of my brother’s ward, cousin, as is fitting.’ His voice was convincing. Madam’s brow cleared.

  ‘If you say so, Rupert – pray where are you staying?’

  ‘At Merivale, cousin, by night, but here, an it please you, by day.’

  ‘Does – does Justin know?’ ventured Madam.

  ‘Do you suggest that Alastair would object to my presence, cousin?’ demanded Rupert in righteous indignation.

  ‘Oh no, indeed! You misunderstand me! I make no doubt ’tis monstrous dull for Léonie to have only me to bear her company. Perhaps you will sometimes ride out with her? The child will leave her groom at home, which is vastly improper, as I have told her many times.’

  ‘I’ll ride with her all day!’ promised Rupert jovially. ‘That is if she will have me.’

  ‘I should like it, I think,’ said Léonie. ‘I have never met anyone tout comme vous.’

  ‘If it comes to that,’ said Rupert, ‘I’ve never met a girl like you.’

  Madam Field sighed, and shook her head.

  ‘I fear she will never become quite as I should wish,’ she said sadly.

  ‘She’ll be the rage of town,’ Rupert prophesied. ‘Will you walk with me to the stables, Léonie?’

  ‘I will get a cloak,’ she nodded, and ran lightly upstairs.

  When she returned Madam Field had delivered a short lecture to Rupert, and had extracted a promise from him that he would behave with suitable decorum towards Léonie.

  As soon as they had left the house, Léonie, dancing along beside Rupert with little excited steps, looked up at him with her confiding smile.

  ‘I have thought of a plan,’ she announced. ‘Suddenly it came to me! Will you please fight me with a sword?’

  ‘Will I do what?’ ejaculated Rupert, stopping short.

  She stamped an impatient foot.

  ‘Fight with swords! Fence!’

  ‘Thunder an’ turf, what next? Ay, I’ll fence with you, rogue.’

  ‘Thank you very much! You see, Monseigneur began to teach me, but then he went away, and Madam Field does not fence at all. I asked her.’

  ‘You should ask Anthony Merivale to teach you, my dear. Justin’s good, I’ll admit, but Anthony nearly worsted him once.’

  ‘Aha! I knew there was a mystery! Tell me, did Monseigneur intrigue himself with miladi Jennifer?’

  ‘Ran off with her in Anthony’s teeth, my dear!’

  ‘Vraiment? She would not like that, I think.’

  ‘Lord no! But what woman would?’

  ‘I should not mind,’ said Léonie calmly. ‘But Lady Merivale – ah, that is another thing! Was she married then?’

  ‘Devil a bit. Justin’s not often in an affair with a married woman. He wanted to marry her.’

  ‘It would not have done,’ she said wisely. ‘She would have wearied him. Milor’ then came to the rescue?’

  ‘Ay, and tried to fight Justin à outrance. Marling stopped it. Never was there such a scene! They don’t speak now, y’know. Damned awkward, seeing that we’ve known Merivale since we were children. Marling don’t love Justin overmuch either.’

  ‘Oh!’ Léonie was scornful. ‘He is a kind man, that one, but of a dullness!’

  ‘Ay, but ’tis enough to make a man sober to be wedded to Fanny, I can tell you.’

  ‘I think your family is very strange,’ she remarked. ‘Ev
eryone in it hates everyone else. Oh no, Lady Fanny sometimes loves Monseigneur!’

  ‘Well, you see, we’d a spitfire for mother,’ Rupert explained. ‘And the old Duke was no saint, the Lord knows! ’Tis no wonder we grew up like snarling dogs.’

  They had arrived at the stables, where Rupert’s horse had been taken. He spoke to one of the grooms, hailing him good-naturedly, and went to inspect the few horses that were there. By the time they returned to the house he and Léonie might have known one another for years. Rupert was delighted with his brother’s ward, and had already decided to remain some time at Merivale. A girl who was as outspoken as a boy, and who evidently did not expect him to make love to her was something quite new to Rupert. A month ago he had danced attendance on Mistress Julia Falkner; he was weary of the pastime, and had determined to eschew feminine company. But Léonie, with her friendliness and her quaint ways, would be a pleasant amusement, he thought. She was very young, too, and his loves had hitherto been older than himself. He promised himself a few week’s gaiety unspoiled by any fear that he would be entrapped into marriage.

  He came again next day, and was informed by the lackey who admitted him that Léonie awaited him in the picture-gallery. Thither went he, and found her wandering round in coat and breeches, inspecting his ancestors.

  ‘By Gad!’ he exclaimed. ‘You – you rogue!’

  She turned quickly, and laid a finger on her lips.

  ‘Where is madame?’

  ‘Cousin Harriet? I’ve not seen her. Léonie, you should always wear those clothes. They suit you, ’pon my soul they do!’

  ‘I think so too,’ she sighed. ‘But if you tell madame she will be agitated, and she will say that it is unmaidenly. I brought the foils up.’

  ‘Oh, we’re to fence, are we, Amazon?’

  ‘You said you would!’

  ‘As you will, as you will! Damme, I’d like to see Julia’s face an she knew!’ He chuckled impishly.

  She nodded. He had told her of Mistress Falkner already.

  ‘I do not suppose that she would like me,’ she observed. She swept a hand round, indicating the many portraits. ‘There are a great number of people in your family, are there not? This one is nice. He is like Monseigneur, a little.’

  ‘Lord, child, that’s old Hugo Alastair! Devilish rake-helly fellow! They’re a damned gloomy lot, all of ’em, and everyone has a sneer on his face for all the world like Justin himself. Come and look at this one; it’s my respected parent.’