The Black Moth Read online



  ‘It has chafed you – eh? I knew it would. I’ve watched you.’ He chuckled beneath his breath. ‘And those fools never looked beneath the surface. One and all, they believed that John would cheat. John! They swallowed it tamely and never even guessed at the truth.’

  ‘You, at least, did not believe?’

  ‘I? Hardly. Knowing you for a weak fool and him for a quixotic fool, I rather jumped to conclusions.’

  ‘Instead, you tried to throw the blame on him. I would to God you had exposed me!’

  ‘So you have remarked. I confess I do not understand this heroic attitude. Why should I interfere in what was none of my business? What proof had I?’

  ‘Why did you raise no demur? What motive had you?’

  ‘I should have thought it fairly obvious.’

  Richard stared at him, puzzled.

  ‘Gad, Richard! But you are singularly obtuse. Have I not pointed out that John was a quixotic fool? When did I say he was a weak one?’

  ‘You mean – you mean you wanted Lavinia to marry me – because you thought to squeeze me as you willed?’ asked Carstares slowly.

  His Grace’s thin nostrils wrinkled up.

  ‘You are so crude,’ he complained.

  ‘It suited you that Jack should be disgraced? You thought I should seize his money. You – You –’

  ‘Rogue? But you will admit that I at least am an honest rogue. You are – er – a dishonest saint. I would sooner be what I am.’

  ‘I know there is nothing on God’s earth more vile than I am!’ replied Carstares violently.

  His Grace sneered openly.

  ‘Very pretty, Richard, but a little tardy, methinks.’ He paused, and something seemed to occur to him. ‘’Tis why you purpose to let Lavinia go, I suppose? You confess the truth on Friday – eh?’

  Richard bowed his head.

  ‘I have not the right to stop her. She – chooses her own road.’

  ‘She knows?’ sharply.

  ‘She has always known.’

  ‘The jade! And I never guessed it!’ He paused. ‘Yes, I understand your heroic attitude. I am sorry I cannot pander to it. In spite of all this, I cannot permit my sister to ruin herself.’

  ‘She was as effectually ruined when she stayed with me.’

  ‘Pshaw! After seven years, who is like to care one way or the other which of you cheated? Play the man for once and stop her!’

  ‘She loves Lovelace, I tell you!’

  ‘What of it? She will recover from that.’

  ‘No – I cannot ask her to stay with me – ’twould be damnably selfish.’

  His Grace appeared exasperated.

  ‘’Fore Gad, you are a fool! Ask her! Ask her! Force her! Kick Lovelace from your house and abandon the heroic pose, I beg of you!’

  ‘Do you suppose I want to lose her?’ cried Carstares. ‘’Tis because I love her so much that I will not stand in the way of her happiness!’

  The Duke flung round and picked up his hat.

  ‘I am sorry I cannot join with you in your heroics. I must take the matter into my own hands, as usual, it seems. Lord, but you should have learnt to make her obey you, my good Dick! She has led you by the nose ever since she married you, and she was a woman who wanted mastering!’ He went over to the door and opened it. ‘I will call upon you to-morrow, when I shall hope to find you more sane. They do not propose to leave until late, I know, for Lovelace is promised to Mallaby at three o’clock. There is time in which to act.’

  ‘I shall not interfere,’ repeated Richard.

  His Grace sneered.

  ‘So you have remarked. It remains for me to do. Good-night.’

  Twenty-four

  Richard Plays the Man

  Lady Lavinia’s frame of mind when she awoke next morning was hardly befitting one who contemplated an elopement. A weight seemed to rest on her chest, hopeless misery was gathered about her head. She could not bring herself to drink her chocolate, and feeling that inaction was the worst of all, she very soon crawled out of bed and allowed her maid to dress her. Then she went with dragging steps to her boudoir, wondering all the time where Richard was and what he was doing. She seated herself at her window and looked out on to the square, biting the edge of her handkerchief in the effort to keep back her tears.

  Richard was in no more cheerful mood. He, too, left his chocolate untouched, and went presently down to the breakfast table and looked at the red sirloin with a feeling of acute nausea. He managed to drink a cup of coffee, and immediately afterwards left the room and made his way to his wife’s boudoir. He told himself he was acting weakly, and had far better avoid her, but in the end he gave way to his longing to see her, and knocked on one white panel.

  Lavinia’s heart leapt. How well she knew that knock!

  ‘Come in!’ she called, and tried to compose her features.

  Richard entered and shut the door behind him.

  ‘Oh – oh – good-morning!’ she smiled. ‘You – wanted to speak with me – Dick?’

  ‘I – yes – that is – er – have you the Carlyles’ invitation?’

  It was perhaps, an unlucky excuse. Lavinia turned and fought against her tears.

  ‘I – I believe – ’tis in my – escritoire,’ she managed to say. ‘I – I will look for it.’

  She rose and unlocked the bureau, standing with her back to him.

  ‘’Tis no matter,’ stammered Carstares. ‘I – only – ’twas but that I could not find it. Pray do not disturb yourself!’

  ‘Oh – not – at all,’ she answered, scattering a handful of letters before her. ‘Yes – here ’tis.’ She came up to him with the note in her hand, extending it.

  Carstares looked down at the golden head, and at the little face with its eyes cast down, and red mouth set so wistfully. Heavens, how could he bear to live without her! Mechanically he took the letter.

  Lavinia turned away, and as she stepped from him something snapped in Richard’s brain. The luckless invitation was flung down.

  ‘No, by God you shall not!’ he cried suddenly.

  Lavinia stopped, trembling.

  ‘Oh – oh, what do you mean?’ she fluttered.

  The mists were gone from his mind now, everything was clear. Lavinia should not elope with Lovelace. In two strides he was at her side, had caught her by the shoulders and swung her to face him.

  ‘You shall not leave me! Do you understand? I cannot live without you!’

  Lavinia gave a little cry of relief, joy and wonderment, and shrank against him.

  ‘Oh, please, please forgive me and keep me with you!’ she cried, and clung to the lapels of his coat.

  Carstares swept her right off the ground in the violence of his embrace, but she did not mind, although the crushing was ruinous to her silks. Silks were no longer uppermost in her brain. She returned his kisses eagerly, sobbing a little.

  When Carstares was able to say anything beyond how he loved her, he demanded if she did not love him?

  ‘Of course I do!’ she cooed. ‘I always, always did, only I was so selfish and so careless!’

  He carried her to the sofa and sat down with her on his knee, trying to look into her face. But she had somehow contrived to hide it on his shoulder, and he did not succeed.

  ‘Then you never loved that puppy?’ he asked, amazed.

  One hand crept up to his other shoulder.

  ‘Oh, Dicky, no! And – and you – you don’t love that horrid Mrs Fanshawe, do you?’

  He was still more amazed.

  ‘Mrs Fanshawe? Great heavens, no! You never thought that, surely?’

  ‘I did – I did! Since you were always at her house, and so cold to me – how could I help it?’

  ‘Cold to you? My dearest, surely not?’

  ‘You were – you truly were – a