Devil's Cub (2 page)

“He is very young, Fanny,” Hugh said, still watching the Marquis across the room.

“That makes it worse,” declared her ladyship. “Oh, my dear Lady Dawlish, I wondered whether I should see you to-night! I protest, it’s an age since I had a talk with you .... Odious woman, and as for her daughter, you may say what you choose, Hugh, but the girl
squints
!
Where was I? Oh, Vidal, of course! Young? Yes, Hugh, I marvel that you should find that an excuse for him. The poor Hollands had trouble enough with their son, not but what I consider Holland was entirely to blame—but I never heard that Charles Fox ever did anything worse than lose a fortune at gaming, which is a thing no one could blame in him. It is very different with Vidal. From the day he left Eton he has been outrageous, and I make no doubt he was so in the nursery. It is not only his duels, Hugh—my dear, do you know he is considered positively deadly with the pistols? John tells me they say in the clubs that it makes no odds to the Devil’s Cub whether he is drunk or sober, he can still pick out a playing card on the wall. He did that at White’s once, and there was the most horrid scandal, for of course he was in his cups, and only fancy, Hugh, how angry all the people like old Queensberry and Mr. Walpole must have been! I wish I had seen it!”

“I did see it,” said Hugh. “A silly boy’s trick, no more.”

“I dare say, but it was no boy’s trick to kill young Ffolliot. A pretty to-do there was over that. But as I say, it is not only his duels. He plays high—well, so do we all, and he is a true Alastair—and he drinks too much. No one ever saw Avon in his cups that I ever heard of, Hugh. And worse—worse than all—” she stopped and made a gesture with her fan.

“Opera dancers,” she said darkly.

Davenant smiled. “Well, Fanny, I deplore it as much as you do, but I believe you cannot say that no one ever saw Avon—”

He was interrupted. “I am very fond of Justin,” said Lady Fanny tartly, “but I never pretended to approve of his conduct. And with all his faults Justin was ever
bon ton
.
It is no such thing with Vidal. If he were my son, I should never have consented to let him live anywhere but under my roof. My own dear John scarce leaves my side.”

Hugh bowed. “I know you are very fortunate in your son, Fanny,” he said.

She sighed. “Indeed, he is prodigiously like his poor papa.”

Hugh made no reply to this but merely bowed again. Knowing her ladyship as he did, he was perfectly well aware that her son’s staid disposition was something of a disappointment to her.

“I am sure,” said Lady Fanny, with a touch of defiance, “that if I heard of my John holding—holding orgies with all the wildest young rakes in town I should die of mortification.”

He frowned. “Orgies, Fanny?”

“Orgies, Hugh. Pray do not ask more.” Davenant had heard a good many stories concerning the doings of Vidal’s particular set, and bearing in mind what these stories were, he was somewhat surprised that they should have come to Lady Fanny’s ears. From her expression of outraged virtue he inferred that she really had heard some of the worst tales. He wondered whether John Marling had been her informant, and reflected that in spite of his excesses one could not but like the Marquis better than his impeccable cousin.

At that moment Mr. John Marling came across the room towards his mother. He was a good-looking young man of rather stocky build, dressed very neatly in Spanish-brown velvet. He was in his thirtieth year, but the staidness of his demeanour made him appear older. He greeted Davenant with a bow and a grave smile, and had begun to inquire politely after the older man’s health, when his mother interrupted him.

“Pray, John, where is your sister? I was put out to see that young Comyn was present here to-night I do trust you have not let her slip off with him?”

“No,” John said. “She is with Vidal.”

“Oh!” A curiously thoughtful expression came into her ladyship’s face. “Well, I make no doubt they were glad to see each other.”

“I don’t know,” John said painstakingly. “Juliana cried out: `Why, my dear Dominic, you here?’ or some such thing, and Vidal said: ‘Good God! Have I stumbled on a family gathering?’”

“That is just his way,” Lady Fanny assured him. She turned her limpid gaze upon Davenant. “Vidal has a great kindness for his cousin, you know, Hugh.”

Davenant did not know it, but he was perfectly well aware of Lady Fanny’s ambition. Whatever might be the imperfections of Vidal’s character, he was one of the biggest prizes on the matrimonial market, and for years her ladyship had cherished hopes which she fondly believed to be secret.

John seemed disposed to argue the matter. “For my part I do not believe that Vidal cares a fig for Juliana,” he said. “And as for her, I very much fear this Frederick Comyn has taken her fancy to an alarming degree.”

“How can you be so teasing, John?” Fanny demanded petulantly. “You know very well she is nothing but a child, and I am sure no thought of—of marriage, or love, or any such folly has entered her head. And if it had, it is no great matter, and when she has been in Paris a week, she will have forgotten the young man’s very existence.”

“Paris?” said Hugh, foreseeing that John was going to try and convince his mother for her own good. “Is Juliana going to Paris?”

“Why yes, Hugh. Have you forgotten that my dear mamma was a Frenchwoman? I am sure it is no matter for wonder that the child should visit her French relatives. They are quite wild to know her, so John is to take her next week. I don’t doubt they will make so much rout with her she will hardly wish to come home again.”

“But I do not feel at all hopeful that it win answer the purpose,” said John heavily.

“Pray, John, do not be so provoking!” implored Lady Fanny, somewhat tartly. “You make it sound as though I were one of those odious scheming females whom I detest.”

Hugh thought it time to withdraw, and tactfully did so, leaving mother and son to argue in comfort.

Meanwhile, Miss Juliana Marling, a charming blonde dressed in blue lustring with spangled shoes, and her curls arranged
a la Gorgonne
,
had dragged her cousin into one of the adjoining saloons. “You are the very person I wished to see!” she informed him.

The Marquis said with conspicuous lack of gallantry: “If you want me to do something for you, Juliana, I warn you I never do anything for anybody.”

Miss Marling opened her blue eyes very wide. “Not even for me, Dominic?” she said soulfully.

His lordship remained unmoved. “No,” he replied.

Miss Marling sighed and shook her head. “You are horridly disobliging, you know. It quite decides me not to marry you.”

“I hoped it might,” said his lordship calmly.

Miss Marling made an effort to look affronted, but only succeeded in giggling. “You needn’t be afraid. I am going to marry someone quite different,” she said.

His lordship evinced signs of faint interest at that “Are you?” he inquired. “Does my aunt know?”

“You may be very wicked, and quite hatefully rude,” said Miss Marling, “but I will say one thing for you, Dominic: you do not need to have things explained to you like John. Mamma does not mean me to marry him, and that is why I am to be packed off to France next week.”

“Who is ‘he?’ Ought I to know?” inquired the Marquis.

“I don’t suppose you know him. He is not at all the sort of person who would know your set,” said Miss Marling severely.

“Ah, then I was right,” retorted my lord. “You are contemplating a
mesalliance
.”

Miss Marling stiffened in every line of her small figure. “It’s no such thing! He may not be a brilliant match, or have a title, but all the men I have met who are brilliant matches are just like you, and would make the most horrid husbands.”

“You may as well let me know the worst,” said my lord. “H you think it would annoy Aunt Fanny, I’ll do what I can for you.”

She clasped both hands on his arm. “Dear, dear Dominic! I knew you would! It is Frederick Comyn.”

“And who,” said the Marquis, “might he be?”

“He comes from Gloucestershire—or is it Somerset? Well, it doesn’t signify—and his papa is
Sir
Malcolm Comyn, and it is all perfectly respectable, as dear Aunt Léonie would say, for they have always lived there, and there is an estate, though not very large, I believe, and Frederick is the eldest son, and he was at Cambridge, and this is his first stay in town, and Lord Carlisle is his sponsor, so you see it is not a
mesalliance
at all.”

“I don’t,” said his lordship. “You may as well give up the notion, my dear. They’ll never let you throw yourself away on this nobody.”

“Dominic,” said Miss Marling with dangerous quiet.

My lord looked lazily down at her.

“I just want you to know that my mind is made up,” she said, giving him back look for look. “So that it is no use to talk to me like that.”

“Very well,” said my lord.

“And you will make a push to help us, won’t you, dearest Dominic?”

“Oh certainly, child. I will tell Aunt Fanny that the alliance has my full approval.”

“You are quite abominable,” said his cousin. “I know you dislike of all things to bestir yourself, but recollect, my lord, if once I am wed you need not be afraid any more that mamma will make you marry me.”

“I am not in the least afraid of that,” replied his lordship.

“I declare it would serve you right if I did marry you!” cried Miss Marling indignantly. “You are being quite atrocious and all I want you to do is to write a letter to Tante Elisabeth in Paris!”

His lordship’s attention seemed to have wandered, but at this he brought his gaze back from the contemplation of a ripe blonde who was trying to appear unconscious of his scrutiny, and looked down into Miss Marling’s face.

“Why?” he asked.

“If s perfectly plain, Dominic, I should have thought. Tante Elisabeth so dotes on you she win do whatever you wish, and if you were to solicit her kindness for a friend of yours about to make his debut in Paris “

“Oh, that’s it, is it?” said the Marquis. “Much good will a letter from me avail you if my respected Aunt Fanny has already warned Tante against your nobody.”

“She won’t do that,” Miss Marling replied confidently. “And he is not a nobody. She has no notion, you see, that Frederick means to follow me to Paris. So you will write, will you not, Dominic?”

“No, certainly not,” said my lord. “I’ve never set eyes on the fellow.”

“I knew you would say something disagreeable like that,” said Miss Marling, unperturbed. “So I told Frederick to be ready.” She turned her head and made a gesture with her fan, rather in the manner of a sorceress about to conjure up visions. In response to the signal a young man who had been watching her anxiously disengaged himself from a knot of persons near the door, and came towards her.

He was not so tall as Vidal, and of a very different
ton
.
From his moderate-sized pigeon’s-wing wig to his low-heeled black shoes, there did not seem to be a hair or a pin out of place. His dress was in the mode, but not designed to attract attention. He wore Lunardi lace at his throat and wrists, and a black solitaire adorned his cravat Such usual adjuncts to •a gentleman’s costume as quizzing-glass, fobs, and watches, he had altogether dispensed with, but he had a snuff-box in one hand, and wore a cameo-ring on one finger.

The Marquis watched his approach through his quizzing-glass. “Lord!” he said. “What’s the matter with you Ju?”

Miss Marling chose to ignore this. She sprang up as Mr. Comyn reached them, and laid her hand on his arm. “Frederick, I have told my cousin all!” she said dramatically. “This is my cousin, by the way. I dare say you know of him. He is very wicked and kills people in duels. Vidal, this is Frederick.”

His lordship had risen. “You talk too much, Juliana,” he drawled. His dark eyes held a distinct menace, but his cousin remained unabashed. He exchanged bows with Mr. Comyn. “Sir, your most obedient.”

Mr. Comyn, who had blushed at his Juliana’s introduction, said that he was honoured.

“Vidal is going to write to my French aunt about you,” stated Miss Marling blithely. “She is really the only person in the family who is not shocked by him. Except me, of course.”

The Marquis caught her eye once more. Knowing that dangerous look of old, Miss Marling capitulated. “I won’t say another word,” she promised. “And you will write, will you not, dear Dominic?”

Mr. Comyn said in his grave young voice: “I think my Lord Vidal must require to know my credentials. My lord, though I am aware that I must sound like a mere adventurer, I can assure you it is no such thing. My family is well known in the West of England, and my Lord Carlisle will speak for me at need.”

“Good God, sir! I’m not the girl’s guardian!” said his lordship. “You had better address all this to her brother.”

Mr. Comyn and Miss Marling exchanged rueful glances.

“Mr. Marling and Lady Fanny can hardly be unaware of my estate, sir, but—but in short I cannot flatter myself that they look upon my suit with any favour.”

“Of course they don’t,’’ agreed the Marquis. “You’ll have to elope with her.”

Mr. Comyn looked extremely taken aback. “Elope, my lord!” he said.

“Or give the chit up,” replied his lordship.