Cotillion (33 page)

Kitty found this dramatic phrase so strongly reminiscent of Miss Fishguard in her more sentimental moments that she was nearly betrayed into a giggle. After a short struggle with herself, she asked bluntly: “Why?”

He replied, with a hopeless gesture: “I have been permitted a glimpse of paradise! It is not for me!”

“I do wish, Camille, that you will speak more plainly!” said Kitty, rather exasperated. “If you mean that Olivia is paradise, and that it is she who is not for you, pray why should you say such a thing? Have you quarrelled with her?”

“A thousand times no!” he declared vehemently. “Would I quarrel with an angel from heaven? The very thought is a blasphemy!”

“Yes, very true, but Olivia is not an angel from heaven,” Kitty pointed out. “Is it that her lack of fortune makes her ineligible, or that you fear she would not be acceptable to your family? I own that Mrs. Broughty is a dreadful woman, but—”

“It is I who cannot be acceptable to Mrs. Broughty!” he interrupted.

A suspicion that he had been drinking crossed her mind. She looked anxiously at him, and said: “Come, you are talking nonsense, cousin! Perhaps you are not as wealthy as that odious Sir Henry Gosford, but I am persuaded, from what Olivia has told me, that Mrs. Broughty is inclined to look upon you with the utmost complacence!”

He gave a short laugh. “Without doubt!
C’est hors de propos, ma chère cousine
! It is the Chevalier she looks upon with complacence. You, of all people, must know that there is no Chevalier!” She was now more than ever convinced that he had been drinking deeply, and said in some concern: “Camille, I think you don’t know what you are saying! No Chevalier? But—are not you the Chevalier d’Evron?”

He looked intently at her, and made a fatalistic gesture.

“I am in your hands, in effect! But you are my cousin! I thought—it did not seem to me possible that you should not know the truth. I have been grateful to you for your silence. When the so-obliging Mr. Westruther told me that you desired to renew your acquaintance with me—eh, that was a moment indeed! But always I am a gamester: it is my profession. Impossible to refuse the offered introduction! I came to Madame la Baronne’s house, risking all upon one throw of the dice.” A hint of his dancing smile appeared in his face; he said ruefully: “Ah, I will be frank, my dear cousin! Trusting in—in—oh, in
mes agréments
! You were silent: I believed I had once more succeeded!
Quel fat
! You did not know the truth!”

“My guardian has never talked to me of my mother’s family,” she faltered. “I thought, when Mr. Westruther brought you to Berkeley Square—that is, I did not question —”

“My credentials? But had you known that our family is not a noble one—? Would you have betrayed me?”

“Oh, no!” she said quickly. “How could I do such a thing? But—but
why
, Camille? What can it signify? Jack— Mr. Westruther—has no title, but he is at the very top of the
ton
, I assure you!”

“Ah, he has birth,
ma petite
! For me, a title is a necessity. I shall not deceive you: I am, as well Mr. Westruther knows, an adventurer! I have said: I am in your hands!”

This dramatic finish to his speech went wide of the mark. Ignoring it, Kitty said: “
Jack
knows?”

“Be sure! He is no fool, that one! Also, he is dangerous. I have had the effrontery to love the object of his desire, you must understand. With my rich widow, he wishes me all success: ah, bah! what do I care, when I have seen that angel? I shall love her
à jamais
, but I know well she is not for me!”

He sank his head in his hands as he spoke, and so did not perceive the effect of his remarks upon Miss Charing. Much that she had not previously understood now became plain to her. Opening and shutting her fan, and staring with unseeing eyes at the medallions painted on its leaf, she wondered, in a curiously detached way, how it came about that her most pronounced emotion was a feeling of disgust. “Jack wishes to marry Olivia?” she said slowly.

“Marry! No!” he returned. “Pardon! You know him well! You have perhaps a kindness for him! I should not have allowed myself to speak!” She remembered remarks made by Olivia which had puzzled her. Drawing an audible breath, she said: “It does not signify. I understand you, I suppose. Jack wishes her to be his mistress. And you—loving her as you say you do! —will permit this?”

He raised his head, saying hotly: “What can I do? Do you imagine that madame her mother would for one little instant entertain my suit, if she knew the truth? That I have neither title nor fortune! That my father is the proprietor of a
maison de jeu
—what you call a gaming-house!”

“Good God!” said Kitty, rather faintly. “D-does Olivia know this?” “She knows all! Could you believe me capable of deceiving one whom I worship? Of stealing her from her mother
à la derobée
! No! I am not so infamous! I do not conceal from you that I came to England an adventurer! It is known that if one is of—of
bonne tenue, bien né, riche
, and above all French—
c’est drôle, ça
—one may be
bien-venu
in London! To be French, that bestows upon one a
cachet
!— It is known, then, that with these qualities one may do very well in England.” He spread out his hands. “
De plus
, in my childhood I lived here. I know England; I can speak the language with fluency. Perhaps I have not always the right idiom, or the accent, but that,
chère
Kitty, is regarded by the English as
fort attrayant
!”

“Yes, but I don’t understand. Did you—did you come to England to marry an heiress?” asked Kitty wonderingly.

“To seek my fortune, let us say.”

“Lady Maria? Camille, was it to pay your addresses to her that you came?”

“Ah, no! My meeting with Lady Maria was a
coup de bonheur
. Naturally, I am interested in ladies of large fortune, but of her existence I did not know until I was presented to her.”

This frank exposition of his aims very much shocked Miss Charing. She uttered a protest. “Oh, pray do not—! Surely you cannot mean to offer for Lady Maria! How could you
bear
to be married to her? I cannot believe it of you!”

“Marriage!” he said, smiling. “My dear little cousin, do you think that that would be permitted? If she would consent—
eh bien
, one must resign oneself! But I find her a woman insufferably proud, and I think she could not support the mortification of having so plainly encouraged the advances of one who is not—how shall I say?—a
chevalier d’honneur
, but a
chevalier d’ industrie
.”

She gazed at him uncomprehendingly. “No, indeed! I think she would die of shame! But—”

“She would wish the so-fascinating Chevalier to depart from England without scandal, is it not so? Well, that could be arranged.”

She was by this time so much shocked and distressed that she could only find voice enough to say: “Olivia knows this? You have told her?”

“I have told her!” he said, with a groan. “But just now! It was necessary: I could not continue—! You must understand that I have for her a passion, a devotion, which makes it impossible that I should deceive her!”

“Oh, I wish to heaven I had never made you known to her!” Kitty exclaimed. “This is dreadful! I perceived, when she came back to the box, that she was suffering from some agitation, but that it could be as bad as
this
I had not the least apprehension!”

“Believe me,” he said earnestly, “it was not
à dessein
that I engaged her affection! When first I saw her I was carried beyond myself—I did not consider—I had never imagined to myself that I should ever meet one who so exactly fulfilled the dreams a man of sensibility must make for himself!
Bécasse
! I should have acted with resolution. I allowed myself to be transported. When I tore myself away, I believed I was the only sufferer. But when, after so many days of misery, I received her billet, and yielded to the temptation of seeing her again, it was made plain to me that I had wounded her. She asked me, as you did, if I was troubled. What would you? I told her that I was not what she thought me to be, but a gamester, one on whom she would never be permitted to bestow her hand! She saw that there could be no hope for either of us. You may say that we have received our deathblows!”

She was easily able to refrain from making any such remark. In a tone of considerable censure, she said: “Good God, Camille, how could you distress her so? Surely you would have done better to have held your tongue—to have made up your mind not to see her again?”

“I could not!” he replied. “Would you have had me allow her think that she had bestowed her heart upon a mere
coquet
?”

“Yes, indeed I would!” said Kitty. “I daresay she would very soon have forgotten all about you. But now—! Oh, what a shocking tangle it is! I don’t know what to say! I wish you will take me back to the box!”

He rose at once. “I will do so. And you? I am at your mercy!”

She said crossly: “If you mean, shall I tell the world that you are an—an
impostor
, no, I shall not! You must perceive how reluctant
I
must be to see my own cousin exposed in such a way. In fact, I expect you were very well aware of that when you disclosed the truth to me!”

He replied, with a faint smile: “
C’est ce qui saute aux yeux, enfin
!”

“You are quite abominable!” she told him.

He began to walk with her down the corridor. “I know it, alas!”

She was too much mortified to make any reply. They proceeded in silence for a moment or two, and might have exchanged no further remarks had not a most unwelcome sight suddenly presented itself. Strolling towards them, a masked lady in a black domino on his arm, his own mask dangling by its strings from his hand, was Mr. Westruther. “Oh, good God!” Kitty exclaimed involuntarily. “Put your mask on, for heaven’s sake, Camille!”

“It is too late: he has seen me,” he responded quietly. “It is no matter: he will not recognize you. Do not speak!”

The advancing couple halted before them. “My very dear friend the Chevalier!” said Mr. Westruther. “Now, what an agreeable surprise!” His penetrating eyes ran over Kitty’s form, and remained fixed on her face. His brows lifted a little, and to her annoyance she knew herself to be blushing. “Dear me!” he said, a note of amusement in his voice. “May I hazard a guess, or would that be indiscreet?”

The Chevalier returned a light answer; but Kitty was staring at the lady on Mr. “Westruther’s arm. She had untied the strings of her black domino, and it fell apart to reveal a gown of lilac silk and gauze which Kitty knew well. The discovery that Mr. Westruther had brought his cousin Meg clandestinely to the masquerade seemed to her to set the crowning touch to an evening of unalleviated mortification. She lost her temper. “Indiscreet? No, how should it be?” she said, with unusual asperity. “To be sure, it is quite a family-party! For goodness’ sake, Meg, keep your domino closely tied, if you don’t wish to be recognized! I daresay half London must know that dreadful lilac dress, for nothing that Freddy, or Mallow, or I can say to you serves to convince you that it is not at all becoming to you!”

“
Kitty
!” gasped Meg, clutching Mr. Westruther’s arm. “Good God, what can have possessed you to come to this place? It is most improper in you!”

“I am sure that if
you
feel no scruple in coming
I
need not!” returned Kitty swiftly. “I, after all, came under the protection of Mrs. Scorton!”

“Fine protection!” said Meg, with a little angry titter.

“Very true, but better than none!” flashed Kitty. “Nor did I tell lies about dining with aunts!”

“You did! You said you were dining in Hans Crescent!”

“It was the truth! I
did
dine there, and I hadn’t the least notion
this
was intended!”

The Chevalier, considerably alarmed by these signs of brewing storm, tried at this point to intervene, saying: “
Ma chère cousine
, we must return to our box, or Mrs. Scorton will become anxious!”

Neither lady paid any heed to this foolish interruption. Meg said: “Let me tell you that I am under the protection of my own cousin!”

“
Fine
protection!” instantly replied Kitty.

Mr. Westruther began to laugh. “End of Round 1!” he said. “Largely cross-and-jostle work, though both opponents appeared full of gaiety, ready to sport their canvases. We shall see some flush hits in the next round, Chevalier.”

“How dare you?” exclaimed Meg furiously. “I think, of all the
odious
people—”

“No, no, my love, you must not start sparring with me! I am your second!” said Mr. Westruther.

“I beg of you, my cousin, only consider!” said the Chevalier. “Already we attract notice!”

“I am perfectly ready to return to Mrs. Scorton, I assure you.”

“What a spoil-sport you are, Chevalier!” drawled Mr. Westruther. “Mere flourishing so far! We have not yet arrived at the lilac gown, which I take to be the crux of the matter. Come now, Meg, rattle in!”

But this mocking encouragement had the effect of turning his principal into a stiff figure of outraged propriety. “Pray take me back to our own box!” said Meg, in freezing accents. “We are keeping dear Kitty from what I am persuaded must be a most agreeable party. I am myself returning to Berkeley Square in a very few minutes, but no doubt Mrs. Scorton will convey you there when the masquerade is over, Kitty.” She then swept a dignified curtsy, took Mr. Westruther’s arm again, and walked away with him down the corridor.