“His name, my dear Fanny, is Avon. I am fortunate to find you at home.”
Fanny shrieked, clapped her hands, and flew up to greet him.
“Justin! You! Oh, how prodigiously delightful!” She would not permit him to kiss her finger-tips, but flung her arms about his neck, and embraced him. “I declare, ’tis an age since I have seen you! The cook you sent is a marvel! Edward will be so pleased to see you! Such dishes! And a sauce at my last party which I positively cannot describe!”
The Duke disengaged himself, shaking out his ruffles.
“Edward and the cook would appear to have become entangled,” he remarked. “I trust I find you well, Fanny?”
“Yes, oh yes! And you? Justin, you cannot imagine how glad I am that you have come back! I vow I have missed you quite too dreadfully! Why, what is this?” Her eyes had alighted on Leonie, wrapped in a long cloak, her tricorne in one hand, a fold of the Duke’s coat in the other.
His Grace loosened the tight hold on his garment, and allowed Leonie to clutch his hand.
“This, my dear, was, until yesterday, my page. It is now my ward.”
Fanny gasped, and fell black a pace.
“Your—your ward! This boy? Justin, have you taken leave of your senses?”
“No, my dear, I have not. I solicit your kindness for Mademoiselle Leonie de Bonnard.”
Fanny’s cheeks grew crimson. She drew her small figure up, and her eyes became haughtily indignant.
“Indeed, sir? May I ask why you bring your—your ward here?”
Leonie shrank a little, but spoke never a word. Very silky became Avon’s voice.
“I bring her to you, Fanny, because she is my ward, and because I have no duenna for her. She will be glad of you, I think.”
Fanny’s delicate nostrils quivered.
“You think so? Justin, how dare you! How dare you bring her here!” She stamped her foot at him “You have spoiled everything now! I hate you!”
“You will perhaps accord me a few minutes’ private conversation?” said his Grace. “My infant, you will await me in this room.” He went to one end of the room and opened a door, disclosing an antechamber. “Come, child.”
Leonie looked up at him suspiciously.
“You’ll not go?”
“I will not.”
“Promise! Please, you must promise!”
“This passion for oaths and promises!” sighed Avon. “I promise, my infant.”
Leonie released his hand then, and went into the adjoining room. Avon shut the door behind her, and turned to face his wrathful sister. From his pocket he drew his fan, and spread it open.
“You are really very foolish, my dear,” he said, and came to the fire.
“I am at least respectable! I think it very unkind and insulting of you to bring your—your——”
“Yes, Fanny? My——?”
“Oh, your ward! It’s not decent! Edward will be very, very angry, and I hate you!”
“Now that you have unburdened yourself of that sentiment no doubt you will allow me to explain.” His Grace’s eyes were nearly shut, and his thin lips sneered.
“I do not want an explanation! I want you to take that creature away!”
“When I have told my story, and if you still wish it, I will take her away. Sit down, Fanny. The expression of outraged virtue is entirely wasted on me.”
She flounced into a chair.
“I think you are very unkind! If Edward comes in he will be furious.”
“Then let us hope that he will not come in. Your profile is enchanting, my dear, but I would sooner see both your eyes.”
“Oh, Justin!” She clasped her hands, anger forgotten. “You think it enchanting still? I vow, I thought I looked a positive fright when I looked in the mirror this morning! ’Tis age, I suppose. Oh, I am forgetting to be angry with you! Indeed, I am so thankful to see you again I cannot be cross! But you must explain, Justin.”
“I will start mine explanation, Fanny, with an announcement. I am not in love with Leonie. If you will believe that it will make matters more simple.” He tossed the fan on the couch, and drew out his snuff-box.
“But—but if you are not in love with her, why—what—Justin, I don’t understand! You are most provoking!”
“Pray accept my most humble apologies. I have a reason for adopting the child.”
“Is she French? Where did she learn to speak English? I wish you would explain!”
“I am endeavouring to do so, my dear. Allow me to say that you give me very little opportunity.”
She pouted.
“Now you are cross. Well, start, Justin! The child is pretty enough, I grant you.”
“Thank you. I found her in Paris one evening, clad as a boy, and fleeing from her unpleasant—er—brother. It transpired that this brother and his inestimable wife had made the child masquerade as a boy ever since her twelfth year. She was thus of more use to them. They kept a low tavern, you see.”
Fanny cast up her eyes.
“A tavern-wench!” She shuddered, and raised her scented handkerchief to her nose.
“Precisely. In a fit of—let us say—quixotic madness, I bought Leonie or Leon, as she called herself, and took her home with me. She became my page. I assure you she created no little interest in polite circles. It pleased me to keep her a boy for a time. She imagined that I was in ignorance of her sex. I became a hero to her. Yes, is it not amusing?”
“It is horrid! Of course the girl hopes to intrigue you. La, Justin, how can you be such a fool?”
“My dear Fanny, when you know Leonie a little better you will not accuse her of having designs upon me. She is in very truth the infant I call her. A gay, impertinent, and trusting infant. I have a notion that she regards me in the light of a grandparent. To resume: as soon as we arrived at Dover I told her that I knew her secret. It may surprise you to hear, Fanny, that the task was damnably hard.”
“It does,” said Fanny, frankly.
“I was sure it would. However, I did it. She neither shrank from me nor tried to coquette. You can have no idea how refreshing I found it.”
“Oh, I make no doubt you found it so!” retorted Fanny.
“I am glad that we understand one another so well,” bowed his Grace. “For reasons of mine own I am adopting Leonie, and because I will have no breath of scandal concerning her I bring her to you.”
“You overwhelm me, Justin.”
“Oh, I trust not! I believe you told me some months ago that our cousin by marriage, the unspeakable Field, had died?”
“What has that to do with it?”
“It follows, my dear, that our respected cousin, his wife, whose name I forget, is free. I have a mind to make her Leonie’s chaperon.”
“Lud!”
“And as soon as may be I will send her and Leonie down to Avon. The infant must learn to be a girl again. Poor infant!”
“That is all very well, Justin, but you cannot expect me to house the girl! I vow ’tis preposterous! Think of Edward!”
“Pray hold me excused. I never think of Edward unless I can help it.”
“Justin, if you are minded to be disagreeable——”
“Not at all, my dear.” The smile faded from his lips. Fanny saw that his eyes were unwontedly stern. “We will be serious for once, Fanny. Your conviction that I had brought my mistress to your house——”
“Justin!”
“I am sure you will forgive my plain speaking. That conviction, I say, was pure folly. It has never been my custom to compromise others by my numerous affairs, and you should know that I am sufficiently strict where you are concerned.” There was peculiar meaning in his voice, and Fanny, who had once been famed for her
