Faro's Daughter Read online

  But although Miss Grantham had thought of a number of ways of punishing Mr Ravenscar, the introduction of his halfsister into gaming circles was not one of them, and she told Arabella that she could not permit her to visit the house while her relatives continued to disapprove of its inmates. `It would not be right, my dear,' she said, taking Arabella's hand, and patting it. `You must do what your Mama and - and your brother think proper.'

  Arabella pouted. `Oh, that is so stuffy, and I did not think you would be that! When you are married to Adrian, I shall visit you often, I warn you!'

  'Ah, then!' said Deborah, smiling. `That is another matter.'

  So Arabella went away, and was handed into her carriage by Mr Kennet, who told her that he for one was very sorry to think he should not see her in St. James's Square again, since he had had the oddest feeling when he had entered the saloon that the sun had got into it.

  `It is a very sunny day,' said Arabella demurely.

  `But the saloon looks north,' Mr Kennet reminded her. `Sure, there's no accounting for it at all!'

  Arabella's dimples peeped out. `It is very strange indeed,' she agreed, as innocent as a kitten.

  `I wonder, now, do you ever walk in the Park?' asked Kennet.

  `Why sometimes I do!' said Arabella. `In the morning, with my maid.' She paused, and added, with the naughtiest glean in her eye: `The most discreet creature!'

  He was still holding her tiny, gloved hand in his, and h pinched one of her fingers, and said, chuckling: `Miss Ravenscar, you're the prettiest rogue I've clapped eyes on this many a day! It will be a queer thing, so it will, if we do not meet in the Park, one of these fine days.'

  `Oh, do you walk there too?' asked Arabella ingenuously `Then I daresay we shall meet - one of these fine days!’

  She withdrew her hand, and Mr Kennet laughed, and signaled to the coachman to drive on.

  Mr Ravenscar, meanwhile, in happy ignorance of his half sister's activities, had received another letter from St James' Square, written in the same sloping characters as the first, but in far more agitated language. The letter hinted at unforeseen complications, held out a vague hope of capitulation, but ex pressed a desire on the part of the writer to meet him for the purpose of explaining the awkwardness of the situation. M Kennet, improvising freely in the guise of Miss Grantham wrote that it was imperative that Lady Bellingham should, know nothing either of this correspondence or of the propose negotiations, and desired Mr Ravenscar to be so obliging a to reply under cover to Mr Lucius Kennet, at 66 Jermyn Street.

  Mr Ravenscar found himself at a loss to understand either the mysterious references in the letter, or the need for discussion of his ultimatum, and wrote, as requested, to say. This brought forth a distracted note, the gist of which left him with the impression that Lady Bellingham, and not Miss Grantham, was the prime mover in the plot, to entrap Lord Mablethorpe; and indicated a fear of her aunt on Miss Grantham's part which would have astonished both ladies, had the been privileged to see this remarkable letter. It ended by begging Mr Ravenscar to do Miss Grantham the favour of meeting her at a rendezvous in the Park, on Wednesday afternoon at dusk, when she engaged herself to explain fully to him how matters stood, and to do what lay in her power to comply wit his wishes.

  Mr Ravenscar, being almost wholly unacquainted with Lady Bellingham, saw nothing incredible in the suggestion that he niece might be acting under her compulsion. He was even conscious of a faint feeling of satisfaction, and was not entirely averse from meeting Miss Grantham again. Mr Kennet, accordingly, was gratified to receive, on the following day, a brief intimation from Mr Ravenscar that he would present himself at the rendezvous.

  Silas Wantage, informed of the success of a strategem which had had his full support, grunted, and said that Mr Kennet might leave the rest to him.

  `My good man, Ravenscar's no Jessamy!' Kennet said impatiently. `He boxes with Mendoza!'

  `Handy with his fives, is he?' said Silas. `I thought when he walked in here that night as how he'd strip to advantage. Well, it'll suit me fine to have a turn-up with him. I haven't had a good set-to since I don't know when.'

  `Understand, Silas, this is no sporting event!' said Kennet. `Miss Deborah wants Ravenscar delivered to her without commotion. There will be no turn-up.'

  Mr Wantage seemed dissatisfied with this ruling, and shook his head disapprovingly at Lucius Kennet's plan of clubbing the victim into insensibility. But when it had, been shown to him that an impromptu turn-up in the Park, even at dusk and in a little-frequented locality, could scarcely fail to attract attention, he yielded the point, and promised to assist Kennet to accomplish the business with the least possible amount of uproar.

  Lady Bellingham's thoughts were diverted upon Wednesday afternoon by the arrival from Kent of Mr Christopher Grantham, in all the glory of his scarlet regimentals.

  Kit Grantham was three years younger than his sister. He was a pleasant-looking young man, fairer than Deborah, and without her brilliance of eye. From the circumstance of his having been granted every indulgence by his doting aunt, he had grown up to be rather spoilt, and not much inclined to consider the wishes of other people, but this selfishness arose more from thoughtlessness than from any badness of disposition, and he was in general very well-liked, having amiable manners, a good seat on a horse, and an open-handed nature which led him to spend a great deal of money in the sort of hospitality appreciated by his friends in the regiment.

  He had not been to London on leave for above a year, so that his aunt and sister were delighted to see him, and could not fail to notice many changes in him, due to his advancing years. They hung about him in the fondest way, and found him all that a young officer should be. He was glad to be with them again, kissed them both most affectionately, and did his best to answer all their eager questions. But Deborah's asking him if he were happy in his career, and liked the other officers in the 14th, recalled to his mind its most pressing preoccupation, and he immediately adverted to the desirability of his exchanging into a cavalry regiment.

  Deborah said at once that he must put such an idea out of his head, since the cost of it would be too great.

  `Oh, but it would not be above eight hundred pounds, and very likely less, with the exchange money!' Kit assured her. `I have a particular reason for wishing to be in a better regiment. You know, it is shabby work to be in a Line regiment, Deb! Only think how well a Hussar uniform would become your only brother!'

  Miss Grantham, however, was impervious to his cajolery, and replied: `Indeed, Kit, it would be impossible! Poor Aunt Lizzie has had such losses lately that you would not wish her to be put to extra expense on your account.'

  `Oh no. But you are bound to come about again, ma'am, I am persuaded! You would like to see me in a pelisse and silver lace, now, wouldn't you?'

  `Yes, but I do not know how it may be managed, dearest,' said Lady Bellingham, looking very much distressed. `You have no idea what a charge this house is upon me! And now here is-' She broke off, as she encountered a warning glance from her niece, and said hurriedly: `But that we shall say nothing about! We will talk of it later, Kit.'

  `But you are living in such famous style here!' he said, looking about him critically. `I never saw anything to equal it. It must have cost a fortune to furnish this house!’

  'Well, that is just it,' replied his aunt. `It did cost a fortune, not that it is paid for yet, because no one could possibly pay such bills as the wretched people are for ever dunning me with, but the thing is that everyone wants to run upon tick nowadays, and the times are so bad I declare it is a rarity to see a rouleau of as much as twenty guineas! And the E.O. table does not answer as well as we had hoped, besides being not quite the style of thing I like to have in my house.'

  `An E.O. table!’ he repeated, in astonished accents. `My dear ma'am, you do not have that here, surely?'

  `Why not?' asked his sister, in rather a hard voice. `This is a gaming-house, Kit.'

  He stirred uneasily in his chair, an