Devil's Cub Read online

  But it was not until the porter had been reinforced by the appearance of a very superior personage indeed that Mrs Challoner could be induced to leave the doorstep. The superior personage required to know Mrs Challoner’s business, and when she replied that this concerned the Duke and Duchess only, he shrugged in a very insulting manner, and said that he was sorry for it, as neither the Duke nor the Duchess was in town.

  ‘I want to know where I can find them!’ said Mrs Challoner belligerently.

  The superior personage ran her over with a dispassionately appraising eye. He then said suavely: ‘Their graces’ acquaintances, madam, are cognisant of their graces’ whereabouts.’

  Mrs Challoner went off with a flounce of her wide skirts at that, and reached home again in a very bad temper. She found Eliza Matcham sitting with Sophia, and it was plain from Eliza’s demeanour that she had been the recipient of all Sophia’s angry confidences. She greeted Mrs Challoner with an excited laugh, saying: ‘Oh, dear ma’am, I never was more shocked in my life! Only conceive how we have been hoodwinked, for I could have sworn ’twas Sophia he wanted, could not you?’

  ‘It was me! It is me!’ choked poor Sophia. ‘I hope he strangles Mary! And I dare say he has strangled her by now, for he has a horrid temper. And it will serve her right, the mean, designing thing!’

  Finding Mrs Challoner in an unresponsive mood, Miss Matcham soon took her leave of Sophia, and went away agog with her news. When she had gone Mrs Challoner soundly rated Sophia for her indiscretion. ‘It will be all over town by tonight!’ she said. ‘I would not have had you tell Eliza for the world.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ Sophia answered viciously. ‘People shan’t think that he preferred her to me, for it’s not true! She’s a shameless hussy, and so I shall tell everyone.’

  ‘You’ll be a fool if you do,’ her mother informed her. ‘Pray who would believe such a tale? People will only laugh at you the more, and say you are jealous.’

  She did not tell Sophia of her fruitless mission to Avon House, but went off again directly after luncheon to visit her brother Henry.

  She found only her sister-in-law at home, Henry Simpkins being in the city, but Mrs Simpkins, perceiving her to be big with news, pressed her warmly to await his return, and dine with them. It did not take Mrs Simpkins long to possess herself of her sister’s news, and the two dames spent a very comfortable few hours, discussing and exclaiming, and forming plans for the runaways’ marriage.

  When Henry and Joshua came in, shortly before five, they were immediately apprised of the whole story. Mrs Challoner told it with a wealth of detail and surmise, and Mrs Simpkins added riders here and there.

  ‘And only fancy, Henry,’ Mrs Challoner ended triumphantly, ‘she is the slyest thing! For she pretended she was gone off to save Sophy’s reputation, and all the time she must have meant to run away with the Marquis herself, for if she did not, why didn’t she return as she said she would? Oh, she is the naughtiest piece imaginable!’

  A deep groan brought her attention to bear upon her nephew. ‘Ay, Joshua, it is a sad thing for you,’ she said kindly. ‘But you know I never thought she would have you; for she’s a monstrous pretty girl, and I always said she would make a brilliant marriage.’

  ‘Marriage?’ Joshua said deeply. ‘I wish you don’t live to see her something far other than a wife. Shameless, shameless!’

  Mr Simpkins supported his son. ‘Time enough to brag of marriages when you have her safe tied to the Marquis,’ he said. ‘If the Duke is indeed from home you must find him. Good God, Clara, one would think you were glad the girl’s gone off like this!’

  Mrs Challoner, knowing her brother’s Puritanical views, hastily dissembled. She told him how she had found both the Duke and the Duchess of Avon absent from town, and he said that she must lose no time in running one or the other to earth. She had no notion how to set about this task, but her sister-in-law was able to assist her. Mrs Simpkins had not read all the Court journals for years past in vain. Not only could she recite, unerringly, all his grace of Avon’s names and titles, but she was able to inform her sister-in-law that he had a brother living in Half Moon Street, and a sister who had married a commoner, and was now a widow.

  Mr Simpkins, upon hearing the name of his grace’s brother, brushed him aside. Lord Rupert Alastair was known to him by reputation, and he could assure his sister that this nobleman was depraved, licentious, and a spendthrift, and would be the last person in the world likely to aid her to force Vidal into marriage. He advised her to visit Lady Fanny Marling in the morning, and this she in the end decided to do.

  Lady Fanny’s servants were not so well trained as those at Avon House, and Mrs Challoner, by dint of saying that Lady Fanny would regret it if she refused to see her, managed to gain an entrance.

  Lady Fanny, dressed in a négligée of Irish polonaise, with a gauze apron, and a point-lace lappet-head, received her in a small morning-room at the back of the house, and having a vague notion that she must be a mantua-maker, or milliner come to demand payment of bills long overdue, she was in no very good humour. Mrs Challoner had prepared an opening speech, but had no opportunity of delivering it, for her ladyship spoke first, and in a disconcerting fashion. ‘I vow and declare,’ she said stringently, ‘things are come to a pretty pass when a lady is dunned in her own house! My good woman, you should be glad to have the dressing of me, and as for the people I’ve recommended you to, although I can’t say I’ve ever heard your name before – (I suppose you are Cerisette, or Mirabelle) – I am sure there must be dozens of them. And in any case I’ve not a penny in the world, so it is of no avail to force your way into my house. Pray do not stand there goggling at me!’

  Mrs Challoner felt very much as though she had walked by mistake into a madhouse. Instead of her fine speech, all she could think of to say was: ‘I do not want money, ma’am! You are quite mistaken!’

  ‘Then if you don’t want money, what in the world do you want?’ demanded her ladyship, opening her blue eyes very wide.

  She had not offered her unwelcome visitor a chair, and somehow Mrs Challoner did not care to take one without permission. She had not supposed that Lady Fanny would be so formidable, but formidable she certainly was, in spite of her lack of inches; and her imperious way of speaking, coupled with her air of the great lady, quite threw Mrs Challoner off her balance. She said somewhat lamely: ‘I have come to you, ma’am, to learn where I may find the Duke of Avon.’

  Lady Fanny’s jaw dropped. She stared at Mrs Challoner with a mixture of astonishment and indignation. ‘The Duke of Avon?’ she repeated incredulously.

  ‘Yes, ma’am, the Duke of Avon,’ reiterated Mrs Challoner. ‘It is a matter concerning his honour, let me tell you, and I must see him at once.’

  ‘Good God!’ said her ladyship faintly. A flash of anger came into her eyes. ‘How dare you come to me?’ she said. ‘I vow it passes all bounds! I shall certainly not direct you where you may find him, and I marvel that you should expect it of me.’

  Mrs Challoner took a firm hold on her reticule, and said with determination: ‘Either the Duke or her grace the Duchess I must see and will see.’

  Lady Fanny’s bosom swelled. ‘You shall never carry your horrid tales to the Duchess, I promise you. I make no doubt at all it’s a pack of lies, but if you think to make mischief with my sister, let me tell you that I’ll not permit it.’

  ‘And let me assure you, ma’am, that if you try to prevent me seeing the Duke you will be monstrous sorry for it. Your ladyship need not suppose that I shall keep my mouth shut. If I do not obtain his grace’s direction from you I’ll make an open scandal of it, and so I warn you!’

  Lady Fanny curled her lip disdainfully. ‘Pray do so, my good woman. Really, I find you absurd. Even were his grace ten years younger, I for one should never believe such a nonsensical story.’

  Mrs C