Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 06] - The Noblest Frailty (14 page)

Happily misinterpreting the quotation, Devenish soothed, "Do
not get up into the boughs, ma'am. Tyndale's becoming accustomed to it."

Puzzled, Yolande asked, "Accustomed to what?"

"Good old Socrates went after some Canadian beef again. Aunt
Arabella had to struggle to restrain him."

"Oh, my goodness! That wretched little beast!" Yolande moved
to sit beside her aunt on the rather faded sofa. "You really should
keep him on a lead, Aunt Arabella."

"No, but it was famous," Devenish exclaimed, blithely ignoring
the thoughtful gaze Craig turned upon him. "That was how we discovered
you was here."

Mrs. Drummond said a surprised, "You did not know? But I had
supposed you were seeking to come up with us."

"No, ma'am." Tyndale settled himself against a side table.
"Devenish guides me to my inheritance. At least, he says that is what
he's about."

"Your inheritance… ? Surely you never mean that horrid old
haunted castle on the edge of the cliffs?"

"Aunt!" gasped Yolande, her apologetic glance flying to
Craig's impassive features. "What a thing to say!"

"It is truth, after all," said Devenish, suddenly grim. "I
understand you have been put in possession of all the hideous facts,
Yolande?"

"I marvel that you two gentlemen can be so convivial," Mrs.
Drummond interposed. "Now in
my
young days—"

"I am delighted you are so
civilized
,"
Yolande interjected swiftly. And in a desperate attempt to change the
subject, "Only think, Aunt, we shall now have
six
escorts!"

"If the arrival of your cousins does not discourage our
charming gallant," Mrs. Drummond pouted.

Devenish and Tyndale exchanged taut glances. "Gallant?"
Tyndale murmured.

"What—has some impertinent fellow been annoying you?" asked
Devenish, bristling.

Mrs. Drummond tittered. "
Annoying
? An odd
way to describe a gentleman who is all consideration. Quite, in fact,
the most courteous and charming man I have met this twelvemonth and
more!" Her sharp eyes rested fixedly on Tyndale as she spoke, and he
reddened and looked away.

Devenish experienced an odd surge of resentment. His unwanted
cousin was a clod, and Lord knows he had reason to detest the fellow,
but—he
was
family. With a hauteur that startled
Tyndale and astonished Yolande, he said, "Then I'm obliged to him.
Perhaps I may have the name and direction of this paragon?"

For a second, Mrs. Drummond fancied it had been the Colonel
who spoke and she was shocked into silence.

Yolande said, "His direction is here, for he stays at the
hotel. I fancy you are already acquainted, Alain, for he is very highly
regarded and you may see him everywhere. He is Mr. James Garvey, and I—"

Devenish, who had disposed himself with careless grace upon an
arm of the sofa, uttered a muffled exclamation and shot to his feet. "
Garvey
?
By God! Why the deuce is
that
loose fish hanging
about you?"

Mrs. Drummond uttered a shriek and clapped protecting hands
over her ears. Yolande frowned upon her suitor. Intrigued, Tyndale
waited.

With no more than a rageful look at Mrs. Drummond, Devenish
started for the door.

"Wait!" Yolande ran to stand before him. "Whatever is wrong?
Mr. Garvey is the best of good ton!"

"Much you know about it! Stand aside, miss!"

"No! Are you run quite mad, Dev? Mr. Garvey is a close friend
of the Prince, and—"

"Which of itself should tell you something! Move, I say!"

"I shall
not
move!" She leaned back
against the door, barring her seething suitor's way, her eyes flashing
with rare anger. "Devenish, I warn you! Do you embarrass me with your
unsufferable jealousy, do you insult a gentleman who has been all that
is helpful and conciliating—"

"I'll conciliate the b—" Devenish gritted his teeth as Mrs.
Drummond again squealed.

Yolande threw a frantic glance at Tyndale. "Cousin Craig! He
is insupportable! You must see that!"

"I do, indeed, ma'am," he drawled with his slow smile.

"Oh, do you? Damn you!" snarled Devenish.

A moan arose from Mrs. Drummond.

"Then—stop him!" Yolande implored.

Craig said gently, "Your wish is my command. At any other
time. But now, I think it would be best that you should stand aside,
Cousin Yolande."

"So much for your promises and declarations!" Her temper
thoroughly aroused, Yolande did not pause to reflect that the only
promises and declarations that had passed between them had been silent
ones, conveyed by the eyes.

Devenish fired up at once. "So you've made promises and
declarations, have you? You'll answer to me for that treachery,
bumpkin! Yolande—blast it all! Move aside!"

"Profanity will not move me!" she declared, assuming an Early
Christian Martyr pose that must have made the great Sarah Siddons
envious.

"In that case," he said, grimly determined, "I'll go out the
window."

He strode across the room. Knowing him to be quite capable of
doing just that, Yolande uttered a shriek and ran after him. He eluded
her by means of a lithe spring over the sofa, drawing a faint yelp from
Mrs. Drummond, and was to the door and in the hall in a flash.

Callously ignoring her aunt, who was flapping a handkerchief
feebly at her face, Yolande ran wildly after Devenish. "Do
not
!
Alain! If you do, I
never
will speak to you
again!"

"Silly chit!" Devenish shouted, racing down the stairs.

Distraught, Yolande turned and pounced upon Craig. "Stop him!
Oh, you
must
stop him! This is utterly
disgraceful! I shall be humiliated beyond bearing. Can you not see that
he is crazed with jealousy? And—poor Mr. Garvey has done nothing!
Nothing!"

"From what I have heard, cousin, Mr. Garvey has traits you
could not be expected to—"

"Why do you not help me?" She tugged at him distractedly. "Do
something!"

He took up her hand and kissed it gently. "Do not worry so. I
very much doubt it will come to a duel."

Sudden tears blinded Yolande. Frightened by the unfamiliar
emotions stirring in her heart, she took refuge in anger. "A duel! Oh,
you are just as bad as Devenish! I think you both utter—utter
boors
!
I had sooner be escorted by—by warthogs! And so you may tell Dev!"

The corners of his mouth twitched suspiciously. "I suppose,"
he sighed, "it's no great distance from a clod to a wart-hog. Very
well—I will go and try to keep Devenish from throttling your beau
ideal."

"Oh! He is not! How dare you!"

Craig looked at her affronted beauty with a rueful smile,
bowed, and left.

Mrs. Drummond who had viewed the exchange with interest,
soothed, "Never fear, my love. Dear Mr. Garvey will be quite capable of
defending himself against those two uncouth creatures."

Yolande choked out, "Oh—Aunt!" and burst into tears.

"One thing," said Devenish savagely, sauntering back across
the cobbled stableyard, "according to the ostler, the silly court card
will be back before evening, and you may depend on it I shall soon nip
in the bud any plans he may have to escort Yolande in to dinner."

Tyndale glanced curiously at his cousin's set scowl. "Is he?"

"Taking her in to dinner? Doubtless he thinks so. It is
perfectly obvious that he has made a strong bid to engage her
affections, which only proves what a ramshackle cawker he is! Only a
few weeks back he was in a passion because Justin Strand is to wed
Lisette Van Lindsay."

"And this Garvey admired the lady?"

"Fairly slathering for her."

"Hmmm. He would appear to make a fast recover. However, you
misunderstood my initial question. What I meant was, is this Garvey a
silly court card? Yolande seems to rate him high."

"He's a damn slippery customer is what he is! Trust a woman to
see no further than a handsome face!"

Tyndale shot him an amused glance.

Devenish growled, "Do not dare say it!" and stamped in through
the door a boy ran to swing open.

Chuckling, Tyndale tossed the boy a coin and followed his
cousin into the cool and fragrant hall. Devenish sniffed. "Ale. By gad,
but it tempts me and I've no wish to go upstairs, at all events."

Tyndale accompanied him into the dim old tap and they occupied
settles on either side of an oak table that was dark with years.
Tyndale called an order for a jug of ale. Turning back, he was met by a
cold stare and lifted one eyebrow enquiringly, "Are you still raging
about my alleged promises and declarations?"

"I shall take your word as a gentleman that you did no more
than offer any service you might to my lady. Nonetheless, I wonder that
you do not gallop above stairs and charm her with the news I could not
find Garvey."

Tyndale smiled thoughtfully. "She was not encouraging."

"So I should hope!"

"She said, in fact, that she would sooner be escorted by—
warthogs!"

"Did she now. Er—plural… ?"

"Decidedly plural."

Awed, Devenish murmured, "By… Jove!" Then broke into a shout
of laughter. "What a termagant she can be! But it only adds spice to
her charm, bless her! I shall have to spruce up a bit for dinner and
try to mend my fences, if— Oh, my God!" He directed a dismayed gaze at
Tyndale: "This morning we sent Monty on to Northampton with the chaise
and all our luggage! Damn! I shall have to send a groom after him!"

A message having been despatched to the stables, the two men
settled down to enjoy their ale. Sighing his appreciation, Tyndale set
down the tankard and asked, "How is our friend Garvey, a… er, slippery
customer?"

"Why, he's supposed to be such a bosom bow of Prinny's, ain't
he? Oh, Lord! I keep forgetting you don't know anyone! Well, he is.
But—" Devenish glanced around the empty tap.

Tyndale said an amused, "State secrets, cousin?"

Devenish met his eyes gravely. "After a fashion. I mean to
tell you some of it, because there's just the barest chance Garvey may
have seen me and made himself least in sight. If that is so, I'd not
put it past him to—" He frowned. "Never mind. But one of us must be
here to keep an eye on Yolande."

This was a side of his cousin he'd not seen before. Intrigued,
Tyndale leaned forward. "Has he 'done a deed whereat valour will weep'?"

"So you did go to school! I am all admiration."

"And I am all ears."

"You had better be part discretion. I'll have your word you
won't repeat any of this, Tyndale."

"You have it." There could be no doubt but that Devenish was
deadly serious. Impressed by this calm stranger, Tyndale begged,
"Please go on. He's more than silly, I take it."

"I judge him by the company he keeps. You will remember our
earlier discussion regarding Tristram Leith? As I told you, Tris is a
grand fellow. He was at Waterloo and rather badly mauled. An English
lady named Rachel Strand found and tended him, and he fell head over
ears into love with her. Unfortunately, it turned out she was already
promised. To a Frenchman. A quiet little fellow named Claude Sanguinet,
richer than Golden Ball, up to his eyebrows in international intrigues,
and as safe to annoy as any Bengal tiger."

Tyndale's brows went up. "And—Leith annoyed him?"

"Considerably. Tristram was shattered, you see, when he
fancied Miss Strand lost to him." His gaze becoming reminiscent,
Devenish went on, "At about that same time, my governor and I having
had—er, a slight misunderstanding, I was drifting about Sussex.
Tristram came back to England, and we met and joined forces. I won't go
into the details—suffice it to say that Tris discovered his lady's
betrothed, this Sanguinet fellow, was up to some very dirty work
indeed. A scheme that threatened the safety, perhaps the very life, of
our Fair Florizel."

"The Regent?" Tyndale whistled softly. "The plot thickens. Did
Miss Strand know of all this?"

"Not a glimmer. And when Leith realized what she was getting
mixed up in, he went to her home to warn her. Unfortunately, Miss
Strand had already gone to Brittany for her betrothal ball."

"I doubt that would stop him," muttered Tyndale. "He followed,
eh?"

"We both did. I—" Devenish checked and, scanning his cousin's
faintly amused expression with a suspicious frown, demanded, "See
here—do you know Leith?"

Tyndale blinked at him. "How the devil could a simple Colonial
be acquainted with Colonel the Honourable Tristram Leith?"

"I suppose not, but—Hey! I didn't say he was a Colonel! Nor an
Honourable, neither!"

"Did you not? Gracious me. Told you I've heard about him He's
quite famous, after all. Do go on, Sir Coz."

Devenish regarded him dubiously. There had been some talk, of
course, despite the Horse Guards' struggles to keep everything quiet,
and there was no knowing how many people Tyndale may have met before
he'd come to Aspenhill.

The picture of interested innocence, Tyndale prompted, "You
were saying that Leith followed his lady to Brittany, and that you
accompanied him."

"Yes." Devenish nodded, still frowning. "And never in all my
days have I seen a chateau so beautiful as Sanguinet's, nor one filled
with a more unsavoury lot of guests. We had walked into a veritable
hornets' nest of intrigue, and had our hands full getting the girl and
her sister out of it, I can tell you!"

"But you did get them out? How? Come on, coz! You're leaving
out all the meat of the tale."

"It is too long a story for me to relate now. The point is…"
Devenish paused, all this chatter having increased his thirst. He
attended to the matter, set down his tankard and resumed. "The point
is, my clod, that in amongst that nasty little clutch of ruthless,
scheming connivers was our own James Garvey, Esquire. The Regent's
bosom bow."