Making a deep, flourishing bow, he said, ‘My lord Marquis – your most obedient servant!’
Grey-green eyes laughed back at him as Amberley rose to respond in kind.
‘And yours, my lord Duke!’ Then, raising one eyebrow, he said pleasantly, ‘Well, Rock? You interrupt the game, you know.’
‘Indeed,’ drawled Rockliffe, flicking an invisible speck from one deep, braided cuff. ‘Indeed. That was my intention.’
Somehow – and Philip was not at all sure how he did it – the Duke was commanding everyone’s attention. Gradually, the room’s companionable chatter faded and died until every man there had his eyes fixed on the two facing each other across the Hazard table. And, as Philip watched, he was struck by a strange sense of likeness between them. Something that had nothing to do with parity of height or age but was more a similarity of type; of affinity in experience and character. Then he shrugged the ridiculous notion aside. The Duke was languid and smooth-spoken with, apparently, some sense of honour; and at least his hair was conventionally powdered.
Amberley, it appeared, was waiting with unabated good-humour for his Grace to continue – and eventually he did so.
‘I’ve a mind, if you will permit me, to try a throw for your bank.’
If the atmosphere had been tense before, it was now positively electric. Philip glanced down at Robert and perceived from his glazed expression that he no longer had any clear idea of what was happening.
The Marquis spread eloquent hands and smiled.
‘For myself, I have no objection. But perhaps these gentlemen … ?’ It was a courteous appeal to the table and, one by one, as if some master-puppeteer had pulled their strings, each signified his consent. All that is, except Robert – who was fast coming to resemble a glassy-eyed effigy.
Like all moments of eagerly anticipated crisis, it was over in a flash, leaving the company silent and faintly dissatisfied. And the one man amongst them who ought, by rights, to show some disappointment or shame, apparently felt neither.
‘Behold, your Grace,’ announced Amberley, with what Philip privately considered inappropriate levity, ‘the bank is yours.’
Amusement lurked in Rockliffe’s eyes.
‘Behold also,’ he returned suavely, ‘that Mr Dacre has fallen asleep.’
As he glanced quickly down to see that it was, alas, all too true, Philip heard the Marquis give a tiny choke of laughter and say unsteadily, ‘Pique, repique and capot – and let that be a lesson to you!’
This made no sense whatsoever to Philip. He’d have liked to thank Rockliffe for his intervention which, though it had turned out to be unnecessary, he was convinced had been well-meant; but his acquaintance with the Duke was almost non-existent and he therefore had no idea of how such an overture would be received, so he gave a faint sigh and turned his attention to the tedious task of getting Robert home.
He was in the vestibule, engaged in keeping his future brother-in-law upright against the wall whilst waiting for the porter to summon a chair when he heard a now-familiar voice say lightly, ‘Shades of Milo and his ass. Do you need any help?’
It was the last straw and Philip, his patience tried to the limit, cast the Marquis a look of blazing scorn. ‘Thank you, no. I think you’ve left it a little late, don’t you?’
Amberley met the angry blue gaze sympathetically.
‘You would naturally assume so. Have I quite spoilt your evening?’
‘Oh no! I enjoy watching a boy being fleeced by a hardened gamester nearly twice his age,’ snapped Philip. ‘But that’s beside the point. I don’t know if you make a habit of this sort of thing, but – ‘
‘No, indeed. How should you?’ enquired the Marquis cheerfully. ‘Forgive me but I’m afraid I really have no intention of explaining myself to you – nor do I have the remotest interest in your opinion of my character.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘Permit me to point out that Mr Dacre is slipping.’
Philip stifled an oath, caught swiftly at Robert’s coat and jerked him upright. When he turned round again it was to find that Mr Ingram had appeared and was regarding them with mild anxiety.
The Marquis strolled unhurriedly to the door, pausing to cast a knowledgeable eye over Robert before addressing himself once more to Philip.
‘When your friend has recovered what little sense God gave him, I should be obliged if you will tell him to wait on me before noon the day after tomorrow. Without fail.’
‘Duns after you, my lord?’ taunted Philip before he could stop himself.
The grey-green eyes surveyed him with resigned patience. Then, ‘You would do well to acquire a little tolerance – and to recollect that you don’t know me at all. This matter is between Mr Dacre and myself and your interference in it does me no harm and you little credit. As for my message – try to accept that it’s in Mr Dacre’s best interest to do as I ask.’
No longer amused, the voice held a crisp authority uncannily like Philip’s erstwhile senior officers. Uncomfortably aware that his anger had betrayed him into a gross lack of conduct – a fact which naturally did nothing to improve his temper – he put a rigid curb on his tongue and said coldly, ‘I doubt we are likely to agree on that, sir. But you need have no fear. I’ll see to it that Mr Dacre is made aware of your wishes.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ The ice melted and, after a second’s shrewd appraisal, the Marquis asked abruptly, ‘Hussars or Grenadiers?’
Philip’s jaw dropped. ‘G-grenadiers. I sold out.’
Amberley smiled. ‘I see. You should try persuading Mr Dacre to sign up for a time. It would do him a great deal of good.’ And with a slight, graceful bow he was gone, leaving Mr Ingram to follow helplessly in his wake while Lord Philip stared after them in complete bewilderment.
Strolling across Chesterfield Street in the direction of Berkeley Square, Jack caught up with the Marquis and began with the question that took rather ridiculous precedence over all others.
‘How did you know he was an army man?’
‘Impressed, Jack?’
‘Very. I thought you left omniscience to Rockliffe.’
‘And so I do,’ came the laughing reply. ‘No – I’m afraid it was merely something in his bearing. That and the severity of his tailoring. Do you know who he is?’
Mr Ingram shook his head. ‘No. But I’ve spent very little time in town this winter. Rock could probably tell you.’
‘Not a doubt of it.’ Amberley paused and then said thoughtfully, ‘A pleasant enough young fellow when he’s off his high ropes, I should think – but I can’t imagine what leads him to spend time with Robert Dacre. Apart from the fact that there must be five or six years between them, I can’t imagine they’ve very much in common.’
‘No.’ Jack thought for a moment and then said, ‘I suppose you know what everyone was saying back there?’
‘Why, yes.’ Amusement rippled through the pleasant voice. ‘They think I lost my fortune in the wicked flesh-pots of Paris and have come home to repair it; that I’m a ravening wolf, preying on the innocent – a villainous fleecer of youths – a leader of lambs to the slaughter. And worse still, they’re not at all sure I’m not a Captain Sharp.’
‘Don’t be an idiot!’ snapped Jack, crossly. ‘No one thinks you cheated – though, if they did think it, you’d have no one to blame but yourself. It’s one thing not to care what’s said of you but quite another to deliberately create a false impression. There are times when I think you’re a candidate for Bedlam!’
The Marquis eyed him with mischievous concern.
‘Calm down, Jack – before you suffer an apoplexy. And you should know by now that I never deliberately create anything. I simply let things take their course.’
Grasping his arm, Mr Ingram pulled him to a halt.
‘Nick - how much does that young fool owe you?’
‘I’m afraid I wasn’t counting,’ replied Amberley, his attention plainly elsewhere. ‘If I promise not to run away, do you think you might cease mauling
my favourite coat?’
‘Rock thinks it to be over three thousand,’ said Jack, letting go of the coat but not of his argument.
‘Does he? Well, well – he has been busy.’ This with a certain acidity. ‘And there I was thinking that he only interfered out of a desire to steal the stage.’
‘You know perfectly well that he did,’ came the dry response. ‘It’s a habit with him. He no more thinks you a flat-catcher than I do.’
‘I thank you both.’
‘Don’t mention it. I assume you’ve no intention of letting the boy pay you?’
The Marquis crossed northwards into Berkeley Street.
‘Do you? Now why should you think that?’ he asked sweetly.
‘Oh bloody hell!’ breathed Mr Ingram, disgust getting the better of him. ‘I wonder if you know just how infuriating you can be?’
‘Well, I think I do,’ murmured Amberley meekly.
‘I doubt it. I’ve known you for a dozen years or more and – ‘
‘As long as that?’
‘Yes. And you’ve never been any different. For – ‘
‘Really? Well, that’s a comfort.’
Jack was forced to smother a grin. ‘Who for?’ he retorted. And then, without waiting for a reply, ‘You know that I know you won’t take Dacre’s money – but for some lunatic reason you’d sooner bleed to death than admit it. Well? Correct me if I’m wrong!’
‘I wouldn’t dare,’ said Amberley amicably.
There was an explosive silence and then Mr Ingram said carefully, ‘I sometimes wonder why I put up with you.’
‘No you don’t.’ His lordship laughed. ‘It’s because I can give you the entrée to Richmond. Can you doubt it? And, by the way, I’ll be driving there tomorrow – if you care to come with me.’
This was obvious bait but none the less tempting for that and it was with very real regret that Jack recollected a previous engagement. Invitations to the Dowager Marchioness of Amberley’s charming retreat were all too rare and the Dowager herself [though anyone less like a dowager Jack had never met] rarely left it.
‘I can’t,’ he said. ‘I’m promised to Gilmore.’
They had reached Bruton Place and Mr Ingram’s lodgings. The Marquis turned to him with a teasing smile. ‘Just as well. I’ve really no ambition to acquire you as a step-father.’
Jack grinned back sheepishly. ‘Hardly! It’s just that she’s so … so … ‘
‘I know. And, like you, I’ve never met a woman who could hold a candle to her. So if and when I do, I’ll take the greatest care not to present the lady to you.’
‘Wise of you!’ laughed Jack. Then, ‘Are you staying in Richmond or shall I see you in the Club on Friday?’
‘Neither. I leave for Amberley when I’ve settled matters with young Dacre.’
Mr Ingram stared at him. ‘You’re mad! It’s January and there’s more snow on the way, if I’m any judge.’
‘I’m only going to Hertfordshire,’ the Marquis protested. ‘It’s not entirely beyond the realms of civilisation, you know – and I haven’t seen the place in over a year. My agent writes of a score of matters requiring my attention and, if I don’t go now, I doubt I’ll get there before the spring. Only four days back in London and already the tentacles of Society are beginning to close in on me.’
‘You may find they unclose again fast enough after tonight,’ warned Jack, reverting to his original theme. ‘I know Robert Dacre is a spoilt and mannerless young cub sharply in need of a kicking but he already resents you more than is reasonable and, given the opportunity, I believe he’d be glad to do you a mischief.’
‘Don’t worry. He won’t be given the opportunity.’
‘Well, I hope not.’ Mr Ingram eyed his friend with resigned exasperation. ‘You’re not going to discuss it, are you?’
‘No. I rather hoped, you see,’ replied the Marquis with a hint of wistfulness, ‘that I didn’t need to.’
Jack was not proof against that tone.
‘Oh devil take you, Nick – you’re impossible. Go home to bed.’
Amberley laughed. ‘Is that a blessing or a curse? Either way, I feel I should sympathise with you.’
‘Cold comfort!’ Jack hesitated and then said, ‘By the way – what happened to Fanny? I take it you didn’t bring her back with you?’
His lordship turned back to survey him mockingly from the middle of the road.
‘No. I didn’t bring her back. I think, like you, she found my levity rather trying – especially when relating to such vital necessities of life as emerald tiaras and Mediterranean villas. At all events, she hurled a coffee-pot at my head one morning, favoured me with a sadly unflattering description of my person, my character and my … er … capabilities – and finished with a graphic hypothesis on my genealogy. Then she ran off with a Genoese Count. A very rich Genoese Count, so I believe.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Jack. ‘So what did you do?’
‘The only thing possible,’ replied Amberley gravely. ‘I’m afraid that I laughed.’
~ * * * ~
TWO
The clock was just striking noon when the Marquis of Amberley’s valet informed him that the Honourable Robert Dacre had arrived and was waiting to see him. Still gorgeously attired in a frogged silk dressing-gown, the Marquis raised his eyes from the absorbing task of buffing his nails and said gently, ‘Already? Well, well.’
Saunders met the guileless stare stoically.
‘Yes, my lord. Shall I get your lordship’s coat?’
‘My coat? Ah yes.’ Amberley leaned back in his chair and surveyed the garment pensively. ‘Do you know, Jim – I don’t believe I’ll wear the grey after all. It has an appearance of austerity that I feel may not appeal to Mr Dacre. I shall wear … claret.’
‘Yes, my lord.’ Well aware what game was being played, a sardonic gleam replaced Saunders’ wooden expression as he turned to restore the grey coat to the clothes-press.
‘Or should it be blue?’ mused the light voice behind him. ‘Blue … with the cream embroidered vest.’
The valet turned back with every appearance of helpfulness.
‘There’s the purple velvet you haven’t worn yet, my lord.’
‘Mm.’ Mischief danced in the grey-green eyes but his lordship’s mouth was prim. ‘But it seems a pity to waste it on a mere … on a journey. Don’t you agree?’
Saunders’ impassivity because a trifle strained.
‘As you say, my lord.’ He fixed his gaze on a point some six inches above his master’s head and said disinterestedly, ‘I quite forgot to tell you, my lord – but Barrow did happen to mention as how he’d left a bottle of the best Chambertin in the library with Mr Dacre. He hoped he’d done right, sir.’
There was a brief silence and then the Marquis succumbed to long, infectious laughter.
‘You should have been a General, Jim. Such tactics are worthy of a better cause,’ he said unsteadily. And then, getting up, ‘Oh very well. You may get out the blue coat. But if Barrow finds out how you impugned his honour, you’ll be thoroughly ditched - and so I warn you!’
By the time Amberley entered the library, Robert had been waiting a full half hour and his angry flush and smouldering gaze spoke volumes for the state of his temper. He was a good-looking youth and mercifully not addicted to the extremes of fashion favoured by the Macaroni Club but his face was constantly overlaid by an expression of petulance and his manners were frequently careless to the point of rudeness. Just now, he swept round to fix his lordship with a scorching stare and said furiously, ‘At last! I daresay you think it funny to order me here and then keep me kicking my heels while you … ‘ And then he caught the look in the other man’s eyes and the words seemed to wither on his tongue.
‘Not at all,’ replied Amberley equably. ‘You’re merely a little more punctual than I expected.’
Robert cast him a glance of acute dislike. It was true that he’d intended to be late but Lord Philip had nipped that idea in the
bud by handing over the wad of bank-notes and then personally driving him to Hanover Square to deliver them.
The Marquis had no difficulty in interpreting that look and a mocking smile played about his mouth. ‘Just so. I did not, however, invite you here to discuss your views on punctuality. Sit down.’
‘Invite?’ flared Robert. ‘I understood it was more in the nature of a command. And you had absolutely no right to behave as though I couldn’t be trusted to come and pay you of my own accord. I don’t forget my debts and if you’ll be so good as to produce my vowels, I’m more than willing to redeem them. I – ‘
‘Sit down,’ said Lord Amberley again and this time his voice was stripped of both amusement and patience.
Robert swallowed convulsively – and sat.
‘That’s better. I have no taste for lengthy rodomontades – nor they impress me,’ the Marquis went on crisply. ‘Neither do I care for ill-mannered young men who habitually play with money they don’t possess. Yes – I know you’ve apparently found the funds to pay me; but that merely means that you now owe somebody else – unless your father has been persuaded to bail you out yet again. And I doubt that very much because I imagine that it would puzzle him to do it.’
Robert’s hand clenched on the arm of his chair. ‘Damn you – that’s no concern of yours!’
‘No, it isn’t. But it ought to be a concern of yours. And though I would have been very happy to remain outside your affairs, you made that impossible when you indulged in what I can only assume to be an ill-judged attempt to wreak vengeance on my head. Do you really think I derive any pleasure from winning large sums from such as you?’
‘Are you telling me you don’t?’ sneered Robert. ‘You certainly didn’t try very hard to prevent it, did you?’
Amberley sighed. ‘And just how exactly would you have wanted me to do that? By a point-blank refusal to have you at the table - or by allowing you to chase me from it? The first could surely have occasioned you no satisfaction whatsoever and the second is possibly a little too much to expect.’
‘I expect nothing from you – except that you go out of your way to make a fool of me.’
Parfit Knight Page 2