Cotillion (40 page)

“Not that one,” responded Freddy. “Tell you another instead!” He perceived that she was looking affronted, and added: “Not bamming you! Wish I was! Dashed awkward business! Fact is, need your help.”

A little mollified, but still suspicious, she looked an enquiry.

“Got the Broughty-girl downstairs,” said Freddy. “Put her in the Saloon.”

“Then I wish you will take her away again! I don’t want her!” said Meg, with asperity.

“That’s just it: I don’t want her either. Been thinking for some time I should have to get rid of her. Think I can do it! You knew that cousin of Kit’s was trying to fix his interest with her, didn’t you?”

“Oh, I know that Kitty was attempting to make up a match between them, but I think it most unsuitable!”

“No, it ain’t: best match she could make, if you ask me!”

“She! And what of the Chevalier, pray?”

“Now, listen, Meg! Going to tell you something I don’t want you to repeat. Got to trust you.”

“As though you did not know I would never breathe a word to a soul of anything you told me in confidence!”

“Well, see you don’t, because it ain’t a story I want to find flying round the town!” said Freddy, unimpressed. “You remember what we were saying about the Chevalier before Jack brought him here?”

“No,” said Meg, mystified.

“Yes, you do! Told Kit he’d very likely turn out to be a dirty dish.”

“Oh, that! Yes, why?”

“Exactly what he has turned out to be,” said Freddy. “Not a Chevalier at all: deuced loose fish, in fact! Just what I thought: a dashed ivory-turner!”

“Freddy,
no
!” cried Meg, turning quite pale. “Oh, poor Kitty! Does she know?”

“Stupid fellow told her. Thing is, Meg, must get rid of him too!”

“Good heavens, yes! Only think of the scandal, if anyone should discover the truth!”

“Exactly so! Dashed awkward situation. Queered me how to settle it, I can tell you. Hit on a notion just now. Get rid of them both!”

Meg stared at him. “Both? Do you mean Miss Broughty as well?”

“That’s it. Poor girl’s in the devil of a pucker! Gosford offering for her, and she won’t have him. Ran off to beg Kit to help her. Met her in the Square, and she told me all about it. Very fortunate circumstance, because it gave me a notion. Pack ‘em both off to France!”

“You must be mad!”

“No, I ain’t. In love with one another. At least, the girl is: keeps talking on about her Camille till you can’t but feel queasy! Kit says d’Evron is too. Shouldn’t be surprised: seems to be more of a gudgeon than you’d think. Trouble is, knows his case is hopeless.”

“I should think so, Indeed! If ever I saw an odious, scheming woman—”

“Got to elope with her. Going to tell him so,” said Freddy.

“
Freddy
!” gasped his scandalized sister.

“No need to screech,” said Freddy. “Dashed good notion!”

“It is quite
shocking
! And when I think that you are for ever telling me I am bird-witted, I declare I could slap you! She had very much better marry Sir Henry!”

“No, she hadn’t,” contradicted Freddy bluntly. “For one thing, not the sort of fellow anyone would do better to marry. For another, getting to be a trifle crack-brained— well, stands to reason he wouldn’t offer to marry this little article of virtue if he weren’t! If she marries him, sure as check she’ll be kicking up larks all over town within the twelvemonth, because it ain’t to be expected she’ll know how to do the thing neatly.”

“Well, it is no concern of yours if she does!” argued Meg.

“Dashed well is my concern!” said Freddy. “Nice thing if a friend of Kit’s was to be one of the
on-dits
of town, and very likely drawing Kit into her scrapes! If you think Kit wouldn’t be for ever trying to pull her out of ‘em, you don’t know Kit!”

Impressed by this eminently practical point of view, Meg said doubtfully: “Yes, but—an elopement! I cannot like it!”

“I should hope you would not,” said Freddy, with a touch of austerity. “Dash it, you’re a Standen! Point is, the Broughty girl ain’t! Mind, f don’t know yet how Kit’s cousin will take it, so I haven’t said anything to the girl. If he ain’t willing, I shall be at a stand. Going to visit him. Leave Miss Broughty here.’’

“Freddy, I won’t be a party to it! Only fancy how displeased Buckhaven would be, if it came to his ears! Besides, what a fix I should be in if Mrs. Broughty knew that I had helped her daughter to do anything so improper!”

“Won’t know it: told Skelton to say she wasn’t here, if anyone came asking for her,” replied Freddy. “Can’t stay longer: devil of a lot to do!”

He waited for no further expostulation, but left the dressing-room, and ran down the stairs. Pausing only to look into the Saloon, and to tell Olivia, nervously seated on the edge of a chair, that he would be back presently, he again left the house, and set off in the direction of Duke Street.

He was fortunate enough to find the Chevalier at home. The Chevalier, in fact, had—risen at a late hour, had partaken of breakfast at noon, and received his unexpected guest in a magnificent dressing-gown, for which he made rueful apologies.

“You find me
en dishabille
! I have had last night what I think you call a pretty batch of it!”

He set a chair for Freddy as he spoke. He was smiling, but his bright eyes were wary, and there was a suggestion of tautness about him. He would have assisted Freddy to divest himself of his long coat, but Freddy shook his head, saying: “Don’t mean to make a long stay: got a great deal to do!”

The Chevalier bowed, and turned away to produce from a cupboard a bottle and two glasses. “You will, however, take a glass of madeira with me?”

“Do that with pleasure,” said Freddy. “Come to see you on a devilish ticklish business, d’Evron. Daresay you know what it is.”

“In effect,” said the Chevalier, after a momentary silence, “my cousin has told you certain things?”

“Knew ‘em already,” replied Freddy. He added apologetically: “Been on the town for some time, y’know!”

“
Quoi
?” ejaculated the Chevalier, flushing. “There is, then, something in my
ton
, my
tenue
, which betrays me?”

“No, no, nothing like that!” Freddy assured him. “No need to take a pet! Thing is—well, it’s what I was saying to m’father t’other day: can’t be on the town without learning to know a flat from—” He broke off in some slight confusion, as the infelicitous nature of this reminiscence occurred to him.

The Chevalier burst out laughing. “Ah, I can supply the word! I become very much
au fait
with your idioms. You would say ‘from a leg,’ I think!”

“Well, I would,” owned Freddy. “It ain’t your
ton
. Dashed if I know what it is! Just thought you was a trifle smoky.”

“It is to be hoped that others are not so—how shall I say? —intelligent! Or have you come to threaten me with exposure?”

“Must know I haven’t,” replied Freddy. “Cork-brained thing to do! Engaged to your cousin: don’t want her to be uncomfortable; don’t want any scandal either. What’s more, don’t wish you any harm.”

The Chevalier made him a mock bow, and began to pour out the wine. “I thank you! Well, and so I am a leg! I live, in fact,
d’invention
! I take risks, yes, but not, perhaps so great risks as some have thought. I will tell you, M. Standen, that if you had come to threaten me I would have snapped my fingers in your face, so! As I have snapped them in the face of your so-amiable cousin!”

“Which one?” enquired Freddy. “What I mean is, got a lot of cousins! Quite safe to snap your fingers in my cousin Dolphinton’s face, but if you mean my cousin Jack, which I fancy you do, silly thing to have done! Dangerous fellow to cross.”

“Be content! He will not expose me, for he dare not!”

“Might not do that,” agreed Freddy. “Wouldn’t lay a groat, though, against the chance of his doing you a mischief. Very seldom seen him queered on any suit. However, it ain’t any concern of mine.” He sipped his wine, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Come to think of it, might be able to put you in the way of serving Jack a back-handed turn,” he remarked.

The Chevalier shrugged his shoulders. “
A quoi sort de le faire
? If I chose to do it, I would remain in England. I do not fear him, believe me! That he knows! It is a little amusing that he should have put himself to such pains to persuade me to return to my own country. It has been my intention to do so, since—several days. That gave me to laugh
sous cape
! Will he flatter himself I went away because he bade me? No, I think—but it matters nothing! Did you come to visit me to tell me to go, sir?
Cela n’en vaut pas la peine
!”

“Came to tell you Miss Broughty’s in the devil of a fix,” said Freddy calmly.

The Chevalier had walked over to the window, but he turned swiftly at this. “You would say that Miss Broughty is in trouble?”

“That’s it,” nodded Freddy. “Run away from Hans Crescent. Not the thing, but can’t blame her. Never saw such a set of rum touches in my life as those relations of hers! What’s more,” he added, considering the matter dispassionately, “not a good part of the town. Wouldn’t like to live there myself.”

“For the love of God—!” cried the Chevalier impatiently. “What has happened to her? Where is she?”

“Left her with m’sister,” Freddy replied. “She came to ask Kit to help her.”

“Ah, she has a heart of gold, this Kitty, and she will do so!” the Chevalier exclaimed, his brow lightening a little.

“Daresay she might, but she ain’t there,” said Freddy stolidly.

“Not there! Where then is she?”

“Gone down to my great-uncle’s. Poor girl’s at a standstill: don’t know what to do! Seemed to me I’d best come and tell you about it. Thing is, she can’t stay in Berkeley Square. First place that Broughty-woman will think of, when she starts searching for her.”

“But tell me, I beg of you! It is not—
mon Dieu
, it is not that madame has discovered—? It is not I who am the cause—?”

“Oh, no, nothing of that nature! You know Sir Henry Gosford? Offered for her.”

‘“That ancient!” the Chevalier said contemptuously. “I know well the intentions of Madame Broughty, but Olivia will laugh at the
vieillard
!”

“Wasn’t laughing when I saw her. Said her mother would kill her if she didn’t do as she was bid. Shouldn’t think she would, myself, but no use telling Miss Broughty that: in the deuce of a pucker, y’know! Trembling all over.”

“Ah,,
la pauvre
! it is a
dragon de femme
, that one, but she cannot force that angel to the altar, after all! She will scold, she will threaten, but she will not harm her own daughter! This Sir Henry will be forgotten—I too must be forgotten!— and one day, I am assured, she will meet another—
un brave homme
!—and she will be happy. To think of it is to tear the heart from my body, but I must wish it for her sake—I must accustom myself to the thought!”

“Well, it ain’t a particle of use accustoming yourself to it,” said Freddy, unimpressed. “Won’t happen.”

“She will not consent to marry that
radoteur
!”

“No, very likely not. Seems to me she’ll accept a carte blanche from my cousin Jack,” said Freddy brutally.

“No! no!” ejaculated the Chevalier, turning pale. “You shall not say such a thing!”

“Have said it. Very understandable thing to do. Frightened of her mother: won’t return to her.
You
go off to France: nothing else she can do! Must know Jack would treat her devilish handsomely: at least, he would while she was living under his protection. Trouble is, these little affairs don’t commonly last long. Mind, I don’t say Jack would turn her off without a shilling, because he wouldn’t. Shabby thing to do, and he ain’t shabby. But—”

“Stop! stop!” said the Chevalier hoarsely. He cast himself into a chair by the table, and buried his face in his hands. “Every word you speak is torture! Ah, why did I cross her path? I have brought misery upon her!”

“Don’t see that at all,” objected Freddy. “Dashed good thing you did cross her path! Able to rescue her.”

The Chevalier’s fingers, writhing amongst his glossy brown locks, were fast ruining what had been an admirable example of the Brutus, made fashionable by Mr. Brummell. Freddy watched this with pained disapproval. It did not seem to him to serve any useful purpose; it was, in fact, a work of quite wanton destruction.

“You do not understand!” groaned the Chevalier. “I would give my life, my all, but I am helpless! I cannot help her, I, of all men! You may say I am
au bout de mon Latin
!”

“Well, I shouldn’t say anything of the sort, because I ain’t at all easy in the French tongue, and I’m dashed if I know what it means. Daresay m’father would: they used to talk the devil of a lot of French in his day. Italian, too. Went junketing about all over the Continent, y’know. That fellow Bonaparte put a stop to that, which is why I never made the Grand Tour. Not that I’m complaining. Never thought I should have liked it above half, to tell you the truth.”

The Chevalier stared at him rather wildly. “Ah. what are you saying? It is
hors de propos
! You bring me news which kills me, and talk to me of the Grand Tour! It is entirely English,
en effet
!”