These Old Shades by Georgette Heyer
‘What are we to do?’ asked Léonie, with pale cheeks.
‘What, not afraid, are you? Damn it, he can’t walk off with you under my very nose!’
‘Oh, he can, Rupert, he can! You are so weak you cannot help me!’
Rupert made an effort to hoist himself up, and failed dismally. He lay fuming.
‘Well, damme, I can fire!’
‘But we have no gun!’ objected Léonie. ‘At any moment he may come, and these people will never be able to keep him out.’
‘Pistol, child, pistol! Lord, what will you say next? Of course we have one! D’ye take me for a fool? Feel in the pockets of my coat.’
Léonie jumped down from the bed, and dragged my lord’s coat from the chair. She produced Mr Fletcher’s unwieldy pistol from one of its pockets, and brandished it gleefully.
‘Rupert, you are very clever! Now we can kill that pig-person!’
‘Hi, put it down!’ commanded Rupert in some alarm. ‘You know naught of pistols, and we’ll have an accident if you fiddle with it! The thing’s loaded and cocked!’
‘I do know about pistols!’ said Léonie indignantly. ‘You point it, so! And pull this thing.’
‘For God’s sake, put it down!’ cried Rupert. ‘You’re levelling the damned thing at me, silly chit! Put it on the table beside me, and find my purse. It’s in my breeches pocket.’
Léonie laid the pistol down reluctantly, and rummaged anew for the purse.
‘How much have we?’ Rupert asked.
Léonie emptied the guineas on to the bed. Three rolled on to the floor, and one dropped into Rupert’s broth with a splash.
‘’Pon my soul, you are a careless minx!’ said Rupert, fishing for the coin in his bowl. ‘There’s another gone now, under the bed!’
Léonie dived after the errant guineas, retrieved them, and sat down on the bed to count them.
‘One, two, four, six, and a louis – oh, and another guinea, and three sous, and –’
‘That’s not the way! Here, give ’em to me! There’s another gone under the bed, burn it!’
Léonie was grovelling under the bed in search of the coin when they heard the clatter of wheels outside.
‘What’s that?’ said Rupert sharply. ‘Quick! To the window!’
Léonie extricated herself with difficulty, and ran to the window.
‘Rupert, ’tis he! Mon Dieu, mon Dieu, what are we to do?’
‘Can you see him?’ Rupert demanded.
‘No, but there is a coach, and the horses are steaming! Oh listen, Rupert!’
Voices were heard below, expostulating. Evidently Madame was guarding the staircase.
‘Saint-Vire, I’ll bet a monkey!’ said Rupert. ‘Where’s that pistol? Plague take this broth!’ He threw the bowl and the rest of its contents on to the floor, settled his wig straight, and reached out a hand for the pistol, a very grim look on his drawn young face.
Léonie darted forward and seized the weapon.
‘You are not enough strong!’ she said urgently. ‘See, you have exhausted yourself already! Leave me! I will shoot him dead!’
‘Here, no, I say!’ expostulated Rupert. ‘You’ll blow him to smithereens! Give it to me! Fiend seize it, do as I say!’
The commotion below had subsided a little, and footsteps could be heard mounting the stairs.
‘Give that pistol to me, and get you to the other side of the bed,’ ordered Rupert. ‘By Gad, we’ll see some sport now! Come here !’
Léonie had backed to the window, and stood with the pistol levelled at the door, her finger crooked about the trigger. Her mouth was shut hard, and her eyes blazed. Rupert struggled impatiently to rise.
‘For God’s sake, give it to me! We don’t want to kill the fellow!’
‘Yes, we do,’ said Léonie. ‘He gave me an evil drug.’
The door opened.
‘If you come one step into the room I will shoot you dead!’ said Léonie clearly.
‘And I thought that you would be pleased to see me, ma fille,’ said a soft, drawling voice. ‘I beg you will not shoot me dead.’ Great-coated, booted and spurred, not a hair of his elegant wig out of place, his Grace of Avon stood upon the threshold, quizzing glass raised, a faint smile curling his thin lips.
Rupert gave a shout of laughter, and collapsed on to his pillows.
‘Thunder and turf, but I never thought I’d live to be thankful for the sight of you, Justin!’ he gasped. ‘Stap me if I did!’
Twenty
His Grace of Avon Takes Command of the Game
The colour came flooding back to Léonie’s cheeks. ‘Monseigneur!’ she gasped, and flew across the room towards him, laughing and crying at once. ‘Oh, Monseigneur, you have come, you have come!’ She landed breathless in his arms, and clung to him.
‘Why, ma fille !’ said his Grace gently. ‘What is all this? Did you doubt I should come?’
‘Take that pistol from her,’ recommended Rupert faintly, but with a smile.
The pistol was pressed to his Grace’s heart. He removed it from Léonie’s clutch, and pocketed it. He looked down at the curly head with a curious smile, and presently stroked it.
‘My dear infant, you must not cry. Come, it is in very truth Monseigneur! There is nothing to frighten you.’
‘Oh, I am n-not frightened !’ said Léonie. ‘I am so very glad!’
‘Then I beg you will signify your gladness in a more becoming manner. May I ask what you are doing in those clothes?’
Leonie kissed his hand, and mopped her eyes.
‘I like them, Monseigneur,’ she said, with a twinkle.
‘I doubt it not.’ Avon went past her to the bed, and bent over it, laying a cool white hand over Rupert’s galloping pulse. ‘You are hurt, boy?’
Rupert managed to smile.
‘It’s naught. A hole in my shoulder, plague take it!’
His Grace produced a flask from one pocket, and put it to Rupert’s lips. Rupert drank, and the blue shade went from about his mouth.
‘I believe I have to thank you,’ said the Duke, and removed a pillow. ‘You did well, my child. In fact, you have surprised me. I am in your debt.’
Rupert flushed.
‘Pooh, ’twas nothing! I did precious little. ’Twas Léonie got us off. ’Fore Gad, I’m devilish pleased to see you, Justin!’
‘Yes, so you remarked.’ His Grace put up his quizzing glass and eyed the coins that lay scattered over the bed. ‘What, may I ask, is all this wealth?’
‘Oh, that’s our money, Monseigneur!’ said Léonie. ‘We were counting it when you came.’
‘Our money!’ ejaculated Rupert. ‘That’s rich, ’pon my soul it is! There’s some on the floor still.’
‘And what,’ said his Grace, turning to the broken bowl, ‘is this?’
‘Rupert did it,’ said Léonie. ‘It is his broth, but when we heard you coming he threw it on the floor.’
‘My appearance seems to have produced a strange effect upon you,’ remarked his Grace. ‘Can either of you tell me where is my very dear friend Saint-Vire?’
Rupert struggled up on his elbow.
‘Tare an’ ouns, how did you know ’twas he?’
His Grace put him back on his pillows.
‘It is my business always to know, Rupert.’
‘Well, I always swore you were at the bottom of it! But how the deuce did you find out that he’d got Léonie? Where were you? How did you guess I was after them?’
‘Yes, and how did you know where to find us?’ asked Léonie. ‘Why did he take me?’
The Duke took off his great-coat, and smoothed a wrinkle from the velvet sleeve beneath.
‘You bewilder me, my children. One question at a time, I beg of you.’
‘How did you know who had run off with Léonie?’
The Duke sat down by the bed, and snapped his fingers to Léonie, who came at once to sit at his feet.
‘It was really quite simple,’ he said.
??
Avon twisted his rings.
‘Oh, I think you do!’ he said. ‘Léonie was abducted by a very pretty rogue, and you rescued her.’
‘She rescued herself,’ chuckled Rupert.
‘Yes. I did,’ Léonie nodded. ‘When the wheel came off I slipped out of the coach, and ran down the road. Then Rupert came.’
‘Yes, but there’s more to it than that,’ interrupted Rupert. ‘What did Saint-Vire want with Léonie? Do you know that?’
‘I do, my dear boy.’
‘Well, I think it was a great piece of impudence,’ said Léonie. ‘Why did he want me?’
‘My children, you cannot expect me to tell you all my secrets.’
‘But, Monseigneur, I do not see that that is fair! We have been on a big adventure, and we have done it all by ourselves, and we do not know what it is about in the very least, and now you will not tell us!’
‘I think you might tell us, Justin,’ said Rupert. ‘We can be discreet, you know.’
‘No, my children. My opinion of your discretion is not so great as my opinion of your courage and resource. By the way, what did you do with Mr Manvers’ roan?’
Rupert stared.
‘Lord, is there anything you don’t know? Who told you that?’
‘Mr Manvers himself,’ replied the Duke. ‘I arrived at Avon on the evening of the day you – er – left. Mr Manvers came to retrieve his property.’
‘Curse his impudence!’ said Rupert. ‘I left him a message! Does the fellow think I’m not to be trusted with a horse?’
‘That was rather the impression he gave me,’ said his Grace. ‘What did you do with it?’
‘Well, to tell the truth, I sold it,’ replied Rupert, grinning.
The Duke lay back in his chair.
‘Then I very much fear that Mr Manvers will be satisfied with nothing less than our lives,’ he sighed. ‘Pray do not imagine that I disapprove of your action, but I should like to know why you disposed of his roan thus speedily?’
‘Well, you see, I’d no money,’ explained Rupert. ‘I forgot I’d my pin to sell. Besides, what else could I do with the animal? I didn’t want to bring it to France.’
The Duke looked at him in some amusement.
‘Did you set out on this venture penniless?’ he inquired.
‘No, I’d a couple of crowns in my pocket,’ Rupert answered.
‘You make me feel incredibly old,’ complained his Grace. He smiled down at Léonie. ‘What happened to you, my infant?’
‘Oh, I was just teasing Rupert!’ Léonie replied buoyantly. ‘That is why I am in these clothes. I put them on to make him angry. And I ran away from him into the wood, and that pig-person was there –’
‘One moment, my infant. You will pardon my ignorance, but I do not know who the – er – pig-person is meant to be.’
‘Why, the wicked Comte!’ said Léonie. ‘He is a pig-person, Monseigneur.’
‘I see. I do not think I admire your choice of adjective, though.’
‘Well, I think it is a very good name for him,’ said Léonie, unabashed. ‘He seized me, and threw me into his coach, and I bit him till there was blood.’
‘You distress me, child. But proceed.’
‘I called to Rupert as loud as I could, and I kicked the pig-person –’
‘The Comte de Saint-Vire.’
‘Yes, the pig-person – on his legs a great many times. He did not like it at all.’
‘That,’ said his Grace, ‘does not altogether surprise me.’
‘No. If I had had my dagger I would have killed him, for I was very angry – oh, but very angry! But I had no dagger, so I could only call to Rupert.’
‘The Comte de Saint-Vire has yet something to be thankful for,’ murmured his Grace. ‘He little knows the temper of my ward.’
‘Well, but would not you have been angry, Monseigneur?’
‘Very, infant; but continue.’
‘Oh, you know the rest, Monseigneur! He gave me an evil drink – pig-wash! He called it coffee.’
‘Then let us also call it coffee, child, I beg of you. I can support “pig-person”, but “pig-wash” I will not endure.’
‘But it was, Monseigneur! I threw it at him, and he swore.’
His Grace regarded her inscrutably.
‘You seem to have been a pleasant travelling companion,’ he remarked. ‘What then?’
‘Then he brought more pig – coffee, and he made me drink it. It was drugged, Monseigneur, and it made me go to sleep.’
‘Poor infant!’ His Grace tweaked one curl. ‘But a most indomitable infant withal.’
‘There is nothing more to tell you, Monseigneur. I woke up next day at the inn at Le Havre, and I pretended to be asleep. Then the coach broke, and I escaped.’
‘And what of Rupert?’ The Duke smiled across at his brother.
‘Faith, I don’t think I stopped running till I came here!’ said Rupert. ‘I am still something out of breath.’
‘Oh, Rupert was very clever!’ Léonie struck in. ‘Monseigneur, he even sold his diamond to follow me, and he came to France in a dirty old boat, without a hat or a sword!’
‘Nonsense, silly chit, Fletcher gave me his Sunday beaver. You talk too much, Léonie. Stop it!’
‘I do not talk too much, do I, Monseigneur? And it is as I say. I do not know what would have happened to me but for Rupert.’
‘Nor I, ma fille. We owe him a very big debt of gratitude. It is not often that I put my faith in another, but I did so these last two days.’
Rupert blushed and stammered.
‘’Twas Léonie did it all. She brought me here, wherever we are. Where are we, Justin?’
‘You are at Le Dennier, some ten miles from Le Havre, my children.’
‘Well, that’s one mystery solved, at all events!’ said Rupert. ‘Léonie went ’cross country till the head turned on my shoulders. Oh, she diddled Saint-Vire finely, I give you my word!’
‘But if you had not come I could not have got away,’ Léonie pointed out.
‘If it comes to that,’ said Rupert, ‘the Lord alone knows what would have happened if you’d not caught us, Justin.’
‘I understand that my bloodthirsty ward would have shot the so dear Comte – er – dead.’
‘Yes, I would,’ Léonie averred. ‘That would have taught him a lesson!’
‘It would indeed,’ agreed his Grace.
‘Will you shoot him for me, please, Monseigneur?’
‘Certainly not, infant. I shall be delighted to see the dear Comte.’
Rupert looked at him sharply.
‘I’ve sworn to have his blood, Justin.’
His Grace smiled.
‘I am before you, my dear, by some twenty years, but I bide my time.’
‘Ay, so I guessed. What’s your game, Avon?’
‘One day I will tell you, Rupert. Not to-day.’
‘Well, I don’t envy him if you’ve your claws on him,’ said Rupert frankly.
‘No, I think he is not to be envied,’ said his Grace. ‘He should be here soon now. Infant, a trunk has been carried to your chamber. Oblige me by dressing yourself once more à la jeune fille. You will find a package sent by my Lady Fanny, which contains, I believe, a sprigged muslin. Put it on: it should suit you.’
‘Why, Monseigneur, did you bring my clothes?’ cried Léonie.
‘I did, my child.’
‘By Gad, you’re an efficient devil!’ remarked Rupert. ‘Come Justin! Tell us your part in the venture.’
‘Yes, Monseigneur, please!’ Léonie seconded.
‘There is very little to tell,’ sighed his Grace. ‘My share in the chase is woefully unexciting.’
‘Let’s have it!’ requested Rupert. ‘What brought you down to Avon so opportunely? Damme, there’s something uncanny about you, Satanas, so there is!’
L?
‘You shall not call him by that name!’ she said fiercely. ‘You only dare to do it because you are ill and I cannot fight you!’
‘My esteemed ward, what is this lamentable talk of fighting? I trust you are not in the habit of fighting Rupert?’
‘Oh no, Monseigneur, I only did it once! He just ran and hid behind a chair. He was afraid!’
‘Small wonder!’ retorted Rupert. ‘She’s a wild-cat, Justin. It’s Have-at-you! before you know where you are, ’pon my oath it is!’
‘It seems I stayed away too long,’ said his Grace sternly.
‘Yes, Monseigneur, much, much too long! said Léonie, kissing his hand. ‘But I was good – oh, many times!’
His Grace’s lips twitched. At once the dimple peeped out.
‘I knew you were not really angry!’ Léonie said. ‘Now tell us what you did.’
The Duke flicked her cheek with one finger.
‘I came home, my infant, to find my house invaded by the Merivales, your duenna being prostrate with the vapours.’
‘Bah, she is a fool!’ said Léonie scornfully. ‘Why was Milor’ Merivale there?’
‘I was about to tell you, my dear, when you interrupted me with your stricture upon my cousin. My Lord and Lady Merivale were there to help find you.’
‘Faith, it must have been a merry meeting!’ put in the irrepressible Rupert.
‘It was not without its amusing side. From them I learned of your disappearance.’
‘Did you think we had eloped?’ Rupert inquired.
‘That explanation did present itself to me,’ admitted the Grace.
‘Eloped?’ Léonie echoed. ‘With Rupert ? Ah, bah, I would as soon elope with the old goat in the field!’
‘If it comes to that, I’d as soon elope with a tigress!’ retorted Rupert. ‘Sooner, by Gad!’
‘When this interchange of civilities is over,’ said his Grace languidly, ‘I will continue. But do not let me interrupt you.’