These Old Shades Read online

  Thirty-two

  His Grace of Avon Astonishes Everyone for the Last Time

  My dear Comte,’ said Fanny, in a voice of long-suffering, ‘I have not seen Justin since that terrible night.’

  Armand threw out his hands.

  ‘But it is over a week ago!’ he cried. ‘Where is he? Where is the child?’

  Lady Fanny cast up her eyes. Davenant it was who answered.

  ‘If we knew, Armand, we should be more at ease, I assure you. The last we saw of Avon was at Madame du Deffand’s.’

  ‘Where did he go?’ demanded Armand. ‘Did he not return here at all?’

  Marling shook his head.

  ‘He vanished,’ he said. ‘We knew that he meant to set out for Anjou after the soirée, in search of Léonie, but he did not tell us exactly where he was bound. His valet is with him, and he has taken the light chaise. That is all we know.’

  Armand sat down weakly.

  ‘But – but did he set out in his ball-dress?’ he said. ‘He must surely have returned here first to change it for something more convenable !’

  ‘He didn’t,’ Fanny replied positively. ‘That gold dress is not in his room. We looked.’

  ‘Fi, donc! ’ cried Armand. ‘Is he travelling through France in it?’

  ‘I should hardly think so.’ Davenant was amused. ‘He will have halted somewhere for the night, and if I know aught of Justin he did not set out without some baggage.’

  Armand looked round helplessly.

  ‘And not one of you in his confidence!’ he said. ‘It becomes serious! Three times have I come to see –’

  ‘Four,’ said my lady wearily.

  ‘Is it so, madame? Four times, then, I have come to see if you have news of him, and of my niece! What can have happened, think you?’

  Davenant looked at him.

  ‘We try not to think, Armand. Believe me, our anxiety is as great as yours. We do not know whether Léonie be alive or dead.’

  Lady Fanny blew her nose, and cleared her throat.

  ‘And we can’t do anything!’ she said. ‘We must just sit idle, waiting!’

  Marling patted her hand.

  ‘You at least have not been idle, my love.’

  ‘No, indeed!’ Armand turned to her. ‘Madame, your kindness to my unfortunate sister overwhelms me! I can find no words! That you should have brought her here, and housed her – Madame, I can only thank –’

  ‘Oh, fiddle!’ said Fanny, reviving. ‘What else could I do? She is in no fit case to be alone, I do assure you. At one time I feared she was like to die of her hysterics, pour soul! She has seen a priest, and since she wrote her confession I do think she is easier. If only Justin would send us word! I cannot sleep o’ nights for thinking of what may have befallen that poor, poor child!’

  Davenant stirred the fire to a blaze.

  ‘In truth,’ he said, ‘there can be no ease for any of us, until we know her to be safe.’ His smile went awry. ‘The house is like a tomb since she left it.’

  No one answered him. Rupert walked in, to an uncomfortable silence.

  ‘Hey, in the dumps again?’ he said breezily. ‘What, Armand here again? You’d best come and live with us, and ha’ done with it!’

  ‘I don’t know how you can find the heart to laugh, Rupert!’ said my lady.

  ‘Why not?’ replied the graceless Rupert, coming to the fire. ‘Justin told us that he knew where Léonie had gone, and I don’t see him failing now, Fan, damme, I don’t! I’ll lay a monkey he’ll bring her back before the week’s out, safe and sound.’

  ‘If he finds her,’ Marling said quietly. ‘It’s more than a week now, Rupert.’

  ‘That’s right, Edward,’ retorted his lordship. ‘Look on the cheerful side! Stap me if ever I met such a gloomy fellow! We don’t know how far Justin may have had to go.’

  ‘But he’s sent us no word, Rupert!’ Fanny said anxiously. ‘This silence frightens me!’

  Rupert regarded her in some surprise.

  ‘Lord, and did you ever know Justin send word of what he would be at?’ he demanded. ‘He’ll play his own game, mark my words! He’s not one to take others into his confidence, and he don’t need any help.’ He chuckled. ‘We saw that on Tuesday last, so we did! The man likes to keep us in the dark, and that’s all there is to it.’

  A lackey announced my Lord Merivale, and Anthony came in.

  ‘No news?’ he asked, bowing over Fanny’s hand.

  ‘No, alas!’

  Rupert made room for my lord on the couch.

  ‘Fan’s in the dumps over it,’ he said. ‘I’m telling her she should have more faith in Justin.’ He wagged his finger at her. ‘He’s won every trick in the game, Fan, and he wouldn’t be Justin an he lost the last.’

  ‘Faith, I believe Rupert is right,’ Merivale agreed. ‘I am fast coming to think Avon omnipotent.’

  Marling spoke gravely.

  ‘He is a very dangerous man,’ he said. ‘It will be long before I forget the happenings at that soirée.’

  Rupert was disgusted.

  ‘Y’know, Edward, you’re a kill-joy,’ he said.

  Fanny shuddered.

  ‘Oh, Edward, pray do not speak of it! It was horrible, horrible!’

  ‘I do not wish to speak ill of the dead,’ Davenant said, ‘but it was – justice.’

  ‘Ay, and he did it well, by Gad!’ said Rupert. ‘I can see him now, standing there like – damme, like an executioner! But he was devilish, oh, he was devilish! He had me fascinated, I give you my word!’

  The door opened.

  ‘Madame est servie,’ bowed a lackey.

  Fanny rose.

  ‘You’ll dine with us, Comte? And you, Anthony?’

  ‘I trespass upon your hospitality!’ Armand protested.

  ‘Devil a bit, man!’ said Rupert. ‘It’s Avon’s hospitality you trespass on, and our patience.’

  Fanny laughed.

  ‘Disagreeable boy! Comte, will you give me your arm? I protest I am shy amongst so many of you men!’

  ‘What of Madame?’ Marling asked, as she passed him.

  ‘She has a tray in her room,’ Fanny replied. ‘I cannot induce her to join us yet, and indeed, I think she is better alone.’

  So they went into the dining-room, and seated themselves round the long table, Fanny at one end, and Marling at the other.

  ‘Y’know I scarce dare venture abroad nowadays,’ remarked Rupert, shaking out his napkin. ‘Wherever I go I’m pounced on for news.’

  ‘Ay, no one seems able to believe that we know no more than the rest of the world,’ said Davenant.

  ‘And the people who flock to the house to inquire if Léonie is safe!’ said my lady. ‘This very day I have received Condé, and de Richelieu, and the de la Roques! The child will have a great welcome when – if – if she returns.’

  ‘Plague take your “ifs”, Fan!’ said Rupert. ‘Will you have claret, Tony?’

  ‘Burgundy, I thank you, scamp.’

  ‘I have ceased to answer the letters,’ said Fanny. ‘People have been very kind, but in truth I cannot hope to reply to all.’

  ‘Kind?’ snorted Rupert. ‘Damned inquisitive, is what I say!’

  ‘Armand, what becomes of de Valmé – I mean, Bonnard?’

  Armand laid down his fork.

  ‘If you will believe me, the boy is almost glad!’ he said. ‘He understood not in the least what was toward at Madame du Deffand’s that night, but when I explained the matter to him – what do you think he said?’

  ‘We don’t know,’ said Rupert. ‘We’ve enough mystery without you trying to start a fresh one, stap me if we’ve not!’

  ‘Rupert!’ My lady frowned upon him. ‘Rude boy!’

  ‘He said,’ Armand went on, ‘“At last, at last I may have a farm!”’ He looked round impressively. ‘Did you ever hear the like of it?’

  ‘Never,’ said Davenant gravely. ‘And so?’

  ‘I shall buy him a farm, of cour