The Wicked Marquis Read online

  CHAPTER XXXII

  Grantham, who had been unusually silent throughout the service ofdinner, slipped away from the room a few minutes before the other men.He found Letitia arranging a bridge table, and drew her a little on oneside.

  "Letitia," he said, "I am annoyed."

  "My dear Charles," she replied, "was anything ever more obvious!"

  "You perhaps do not realise," he continued, "that you are the cause."

  She shrugged her shoulders.

  "Well?"

  "In the first place," he complained, "you are not wearing my ring."

  "I thought I told you," she reminded him, "that I would prefer not tountil we formally announced our engagement."

  "Why on earth shouldn't we do that at once--this evening?" hesuggested. "I can see no reason for delay."

  "I, on the other hand, have a fancy to wait," she replied carelessly,"at least until your visit here is over.

  "Your hesitation is scarcely flattering," he remarked with someirritation.

  "Is there anything else you wish to say?" she enquired. "I really mustget out those bridge markers."

  He began to show signs of temper. Watching him closely for the firsttime, Letitia decided that he had most unpleasant-looking eyes.

  "I should like to know the subject of your conversation with that Thainfellow when I came in this evening," he demanded.

  "I am sorry," she said coolly. "We were speaking upon a privatesubject."

  The anger in his eyes became more evident.

  "Private subject? You mean to say that you have secrets with a fellowlike that?"

  "A fellow like that?" she repeated. "You don't like Mr. Thain, then?"

  "Like him? I don't like him or dislike him. I think he ought to bevery flattered to be here at all--and you are the last person in theworld, Letitia, I should have expected to find talking in whispers withhim, with your heads only a few inches apart. I feel quite justifiedin asking what that confidence indicated."

  Letitia smiled sweetly but dangerously.

  "And I feel quite justified," she retorted, "in refusing to answer thator any similar question. Are you going to play bridge, Charlie?"

  "No!" he replied, turning away. "I am going to talk to Miss Laycey."

  Sylvia was quite willing, and they soon established themselves on asettee. The Duchess, rather against her inclinations, was included inthe bridge quartette. Letitia, having disposed of her guests, strolledover towards David, who was standing with his hands behind him,gloomily studying one of the paintings.

  "I must show you our Vandykes, Mr. Thain," she said, leading him alittle further away. "When these wonderful oil shares of yours havemade us all rich, we shall have little electric globes round our oldmasters. Until then, I find it produces quite a curious effect to tryone of these."

  She drew an electric torch from one of the drawers of an oak cabinetand flashed a small circle of light upon the picture. Thain gave alittle exclamation. The face which seemed to spring suddenly intolife, looking down upon them with a faintly repressed smile upon theMandeleys mouth, presented an almost startling likeness to the Marquis.

  "Fearfully alike, all our menkind, aren't they?" she observed, loweringthe torch. "Come and I will show you a Lely."

  They passed further down the gallery. She looked at him a littlecuriously.

  "Is it my fancy," she asked, "or have you something on your mind? Thenote which reached you contained no ill news, I hope?"

  "I don't know," he answered, with unexpected candour. "I have a greatdeal on my mind."

  "I am so sorry," she murmured.

  They had reached the further end of the gallery now. She sank into thewindow seat and made room for him by her side. For a moment he lookedout across the park. In the moonless night the trees were like littledark blurs, the country rose and fell like a turbulent sea. And veryclose at hand, ominously close at hand as it seemed to him, a brightlight from Richard Vont's cottage was burning steadily.

  "Let me ask you a question," he begged a little abruptly. "Supposingthat you had given your word of honour, solemnly, in return for a vitalservice rendered, to commit a dishonourable action; what should you do?"

  "Well, that is rather a dilemma, isn't it?" she acknowledged. "To tellyou the truth, I can't quite reconcile the circumstances. I can't, forinstance, conceive your promising to do a dishonourable thing."

  "At the time," he explained, "it did not seem dishonourable. At thetime it seemed just an act of justice. Then circumstances changed, newconsiderations intervened, and the whole situation was altered."

  "Is it a monetary matter?" she enquired, "one in which money would makeany difference, I mean?"

  He shook his head.

  "Money has nothing to do with it," he replied. "It is just a questionwhether one is justified in breaking a solemn oath, one's word ofhonour, because the action which it entails has become, owing to latercircumstances, hideously repugnant."

  "Why ask my advice?"

  "I do not know. Anyhow, I desire it."

  "I should go," she said thoughtfully, "to the person to whom I hadbound myself, and I should explain the change in my feelings and in thecircumstances. I should beg to be released from my word."

  "And if they refused?"

  "I don't see how you could possibly break your word of honour," shedecided reluctantly. "It is not done, is it?"

  He looked steadily down the gallery, through the darkened portion, towhere the soft, overhead lights fell upon the two card tables. Therewas very little conversation. They could even hear the soft fall ofthe cards and Sylvia's musical laugh in the background. All the timeLetitia watched him. The strength of his face seemed only intensifiedby his angry indecision.

  "You are right," he assented finally. "I must not."

  "Perhaps," she suggested, "you can find some way of keeping it, and yetkeeping it without that secondary dishonour you spoke of. Now I mustreally go and see that my guests are behaving properly."

  She rose to her feet. Sylvia's laugh rang out again from the farcorner of the gallery, where she and Grantham were seated, their headsvery close together. Letitia watched them for a moment tolerantly.

  "I will recall my fiance to his duty," she declared, "and you can goand talk nonsense to Sylvia."

  "Thank you," he answered, "I am afraid that I am not in the humour totalk nonsense with anybody."

  She turned her head slightly and looked at him.

  "Sylvia is such an admirer of yours," she said, "and she has such adelightful way of being light-hearted herself and affecting others inthe same fashion. If I were a man--"

  "Yes?"

  "I should marry Sylvia."

  "And if I," he declared, with a sudden flash in his eyes, "possessedthat ridiculous family tree of Lord Charles Grantham's--"

  "Well?"

  "I should marry you."

  She looked at him through half-closed eyes. There was a little smileon her lips which at first he thought insolent, but concerning whichafterwards he permitted himself to speculate. He stopped short.

  "Lady Letitia," he pleaded, "there is a door there which leads into thehall. You don't expect manners of me, anyway, but could you accept myfarewell and excuse me to the others? I have really a serious reasonfor wishing to leave--a reason connected with the note I received atdinner time."

  "Of course," she answered, "but you are sure that you are well? Thereis nothing that we can do for you?"

  He paused for a moment with his hand upon the fastening of the door.

  "There is nothing anybody can do for me, Lady Letitia," he said."Good-by!"

  She stood for a moment, watching the door through which he had passedwith a puzzled frown upon her face. Then she continued her progressdown the room. Arrived at the bridge table, she stooped for a momentto look over her aunt's score.

  "Finished your flirtation, my dear?" the latter asked coolly.

  Letitia accepted the challenge.

  "So eff
ectually," she replied, "that the poor man has gone home. I amto present his excuses to every one."

  The Duchess paused for a moment in the playing of her hand. Herbrother, with unfailing tact, threw himself into the breach.

  "I suppose," he said, "that we can scarcely realise theresponsibilities which these kings of finance carry always upon theirshoulders. They tell me that Mr. Thain has his telegrams and cablesstopped in London by a secretary and telephoned here, just to save afew minutes. He receives sometimes as many as half a dozen messagesduring the night."

  The Duchess continued to play her hand.

  "After all," she remarked, "I fear that I shall not be able to ask Mr.Thain to Scotland. One would feel the responsibility so much if hewere to lose anything he valued, by coming."