Devil’s Cub

fiend?”

Leonie had gone over to the window, but she turned quickly. “What do you mean—even Vidal?” she snapped. “Oh, nothing, my dear!” said her ladyship hastily. “Not but what it would be the most dastardly thing, and I must say I am thankful my son is not of Dominic’s disposition. I vow my heart positively bleeds for you, my love.”

“And mine for you,” said Leonie with awful politeness.

“Pray why?” demanded her ladyship, preparing for battle.

Leonie shrugged. “For a whole day I have been shut up in a coach with the so estimable John. It is enough, mordieu!”

Lady Fanny arose in her wrath. “I vow and declare I never met with such ingratitude!” she said. “I wish I had sent John to Avon, as I promise you I’d half a mind to.”

Leonie softened instantly. “Well, I am sorry, Fanny, but you said worse of my son than I said of yours, and you said it first.”

For a moment it seemed as though her ladyship would stalk from the room, but in the end she relented, and said pacifically that she would not add to the disasters befalling the family by quarrelling with Leonie. She then demanded to be told how Leonie proposed to avert the gathering scandal. Leonie said: “I do not know, but if it is necessary I will get that girl a husband.”

“Get her a husband?” repeated Fanny, bewildered. “Who is he to be?”

“Oh, anyone!” Leonie said impatiently. “I shall think of something, because I must think of something. Perhaps Rupert will be able to help.”

“Rupert!” almost snorted her ladyship. “As well ask help of my parrot! There’s nothing for it, my dear; you will have to tell Avon the whole.”

Leonie shook her head. “No. Monseigneur is to know nothing. I cannot bear it if there is to be more trouble between him and Dominique.”

Fanny sat down limply. “I could shake you, Leonie; I vow I could! Avon will be in town again by the end of the week, and when he finds you and Rupert gone off together he’ll come to me, and what, pray, am I to tell him?”

“Why, that I have indeed gone to Cousin Harriet.”

“And Rupert? A likely tale!”

“I do not think that he will know whether Rupert is in London or not—or care.”

“Take my word for it, child, he will know. And I’m to embroil myself in this affair, if you please! I won’t do it!”

“Fanny, you will!—Dear Fanny?”

“I’m too old for these wild coils. If I do, I shall tell Avon I know nothing about you or Rupert or anyone. And you may inform Vidal from me that the next time he abducts a young female he need not come to me for aid.” She got up, and began to look for the hartshorn. “If you dare to bring Rupert here I shall have an attack of the vapours.” She went out, but a moment later put her head in at the door to say:

“I’ve a mind to come with you. What do you think, my love?”

“No,” said Leonie positively. “If Monseigneur finds us all gone he would think it very odd.”

“Oh well!” said Fanny. “At least I should not have to face him with a mouthful of lies, which of course he will see through. However, If you are set on going with Rupert I’d as soon stay at home.” She disappeared again, and Leonie picked up her hat, and once more tied it over her curls.

She took a chair to Half Moon Street, and was fortunate enough to find his lordship at home. Lord Rupert greeted her jovially. “I thought you were in Bedford, m’dear. Couldn’t stand it, eh? I told you so. Devilish dull is old Vane.”

“Rupert, the most dreadful thing has happened, and I want you to help me,” Leonie interrupted. “It’s Dominique.”

Lord Rupert said testily: “Oh, plague take that boy! I thought we’d got him safe out of the country.”

“We have,” Leonie assured him. “But he has taken a girl with him!”

“What sort of a girl?” demanded his lordship.

“A—a hussy! A—I do not know any word bad enough!”

“Oh, that sort, eh? Well, what of it? You ain’t turning pious, are you, Leonie?”

“Rupert, it is most serious. He meant to elope with the bourgeoise, and oh, Rupert, he has taken the wrong sister!”

Rupert stared at her blankly. “Taken the wrong sister? Well, I’ll be damned!” He shook his head. “Y’know, Leonie, that boy drinks too much. If this don’t beat all!”

“He wasn’t drunk, imbecile! At least,” added Leonie conscientiously, “I do not think he was.”

“Must have been,” said his lordship.

“I shall have to explain it all to you.” Leonie sighed.

At the end of her explanation his lordship gave it as his opinion that his nephew had gone stark, staring mad. “Does Avon know?” he asked.

“No, no, not a word! He must not, you understand, and that is why we are going to France at once.”

His lordship regarded her with profound suspicion. “Who’s going to France?”

“But you and I, of course!” Leonie replied.

“No, I’m not,” stated Rupert flatly. “Not to meddle in Vidal’s affairs. I’ll see him damned first, saving your presence.”

“You must,” Leonie said, shocked. “Monseigneur would not at all like me to go alone.”

“I won’t,” said Rupert. “Now, don’t start to argue, Leonie, for God’s sake! The last time I went to France with you I got a bullet in my shoulder.”

“I find you ridiculous,” Leonie said severely. “Who is to shoot bullets at you now?”

“If it comes to that, I wouldn’t put it above Vidal, if I go meddling in his concerns. I tell you I won’t have a hand in it.”

“Very well,” Leonie said, and walked to the door.

Rupert watched her uneasily. “What are you going to do?” he asked.

“I am going to France,” said Leonie.

His lordship requested her to have sense; she looked wood-enly at him. He pointed out to her the extreme folly of her behaviour; she yawned, and opened the door. His lordship swore roundly and capitulated. He was rewarded by a beaming smile.

“You are very kind to me, Rupert,” her grace said enthusiastically. “We will go at once, do you not think? For I am late already, five days.”

“If you’re five days behind that young devil you’re too late altogether, m’dear,” said his lordship sensibly. “Lord, Avon will murder me for this!”

“Of course he will not murder you!” said Leonie. “He will not know anything about it. When shall we start?”

“When I’ve seen my bankers. Ill do that in the morning, and I only hope the fellows don’t take it into their heads I’m flying the country. We can catch the night packet from Dover, but don’t bring a mountain of baggage, Leonie, if you want to travel fast.”

The Duchess took him at his word, and when his coach arrived in Curzon Street next morning she had only one band-box to be put into it. “You can’t travel like that!” he protested. “And ain’t you taking your abigail along too?”

She rejected the suggestion with scorn, and pointed an accusing finger at the baggage already piled on the roof of the coach. After a lively dispute, in which Lady Fanny and her son joined, two of Lord Rupert’s trunks were left behind in his sister’s charge. An errand-boy, two loiterers, and a cook-girl were interested spectators of the start, and Mr. Marling delivered a lecture, which no one paid any attention to, on the amount of baggage he himself considered necessary for a gentleman to take to Paris.

When the coach at last moved forward Lady Fanny announced that she had the migraine, and went off upstairs, leaving Mr. Marling to order the disposal of the two trunks left on the pavement.

She expected to see his grace of Avon within three days. She saw him within two, greatly to her dismay.