The Black Moth: A Romance of the XVIIIth Century
men had gathered around them, professing themselves enraptured to behold
the fair Lady Lavinia once more. One of them fetched her a chair,
another a glass of negus, and the rest hovered eagerly about her.
Becomingly flushed with triumph, my lady gave her little hand to Mr.
Selwyn, who had been once a very ardent admirer, laughed at his neat
compliment, and declared that he was a dreadful flattering demon, and
positively she would not listen to him!
Sir Gregory Markham, who brought her the negus, she discovered to have
just returned from Paris. On hearing this, she broke off in the middle
of a conversation with an enchanted French Chevalier and turned to him,
raising her china-blue eyes to his face and clasping tight-gloved
hands.
"Oh, Sir Gregory! Paris? Then tell me--please, tell me--have you seen my
darling Devil?"
"Why, yes, madam," responded Markham, handing her the glass he held.
She sipped the negus, and gave it to the Chevalier to take care of.
"I declare, I quite love you then!" she exclaimed. "What is he doing,
and, oh! _when_ will he return to England?"
Sir Gregory smiled.
"How can I say?" he drawled. "I fear _monsieur s'amuse_!"
She flirted her fan before her face.
"Dreadful creature!" she cried. "How dare you say such things?"
"Belmanoir?" inquired Lord D'Egmont, twirling his cane.
"Enamoured of the Pompadour, is he not--saving your presence, Lady
Lavvy!"
Lavinia let fall her fan.
"The Pompadour! He had best have a care!"
"I believe there has already been some unpleasantness between his
Majesty and the fair Jeanne on the subject of Devil. Since then she is
supposed to have turned on him a cold shoulder."
"_I_ heard 'twas he wearied of madame," said Markham.
"Well, whichever it was, I am glad the episode is closed," decided
Lavinia. "'Tis too dangerous a game to play with Louis' mistresses. Oh,
mon cher Chevalier! if I had not forgot your presence! But I am sure you
say dreadful ill-natured things of our George, now don't you? Oh, and
have you held my negus all this time? How monstrous good of you! There,
I will drink it, and Julian shall take the glass away.... _Voila_!" She
handed it to D'Egmont and rapped Mr. Selwyn's knuckles with her fan,
looking archly up at him as he stood behind her chair.
"Naughty man! Will you have done whispering in my ear? I vow I will not
listen to your impudences! No, nor laugh at them neither! Sir Gregory,
you have given me no answer. When will Tracy return? For the Cavendish
rout on Wednesday week? Ah, say yes!"
"Certainly I will say yes, fair tormentor! But, to tell the truth, Tracy
said no word of coming to London when I saw him."
She pouted.
"Now I hate you, Sir Gregory! And he has been absent since May! Oh,
Julian, back already? You shall escort me to the fireworks then. Oh, my
fan! Where is it? I know I dropped it on the ground--Selwyn, if you have
taken it--Oh, Dicky, you have it! Thank you! See, I am going with
Julian, and you may ogle Mrs. Clive, whom I see walking over there--yes,
positively you may, and I shall not be jealous! Very well, Julian, I am
coming! Chevalier, I shall hope to see you at the rout on Wednesday
week, but you must wait upon me before then."
The Frenchman brightened.
"Madame is too good. I may then call at Wyncham 'Ouse? _Vraiment_, I
shall but exist until then!" In a perfectly audible whisper, he confided
to Wilding that "_miladi etait ravissante! mais ravissante!_"
Lady Lavinia went off on her gratified cavalier's arm, encountering many
bows and much admiration as she passed down the walk, leaving her
husband not to ogle the beautiful Kitty, as she had advised, but to
saunter away in the direction of the Pavilion in company with Tom
Wilding and Markham.
D'Egmont guided my lady into one of the winding alleys, and they
presently came out on a large lawn, dotted over with people of all
conditions. Towards them was coming Lavinia's brother--Colonel Lord
Robert Belmanoir--very richly clad and rakish in appearance. When he saw
his sister, a look of surprise came into his florid face, and he made
her a sweeping leg.
"'Pon my honour--Lavinia!"
My lady was not fond of her brother, and acknowledged the salutation
with a brief nod.
"I am delighted to see you, Robert," she said primly.
"The mere word 'delighted' in no way expresses my sensations," replied
the Colonel in the drawling, rather unpleasant voice peculiar both to
him and to the Duke. "Your servant, D'Egmont. I imagined, Lavvy, that
you were in the country?"
"Richard brought me to town last Tuesday," she answered.
"How unwise of him!" taunted the Colonel. "Or had he no choice?"
She tossed her head angrily.
"If you are minded to be disagreeable, Robert, pray do not let me detain
you!" she flashed.
D'Egmont was quite unembarrassed by this interchange of civilities. He
knew the Belmanoir family too well to be made uncomfortable by their
bickerings.
"Shall we leave him?" he asked Lavinia, smiling.
"Yes," she pouted. "He is determined to be unpleasant."
"My dear sister! On the contrary, I believe I can offer you some
amusement. Lovelace is in town."
"Captain _Harold_?" she cried incredulously.
"The same."
"Oh, Bob!" Impulsively she withdrew her hand from Julian's arm,
transferring it to the Colonel's. "I must see him at once! To think he
is returned after all these years! Quick, Julian, dear lad--go and find
him--and tell him 'tis I, Lavinia, who want him! You know him, do you
not? Yes--I thought you did. Send him to me at once!--at once!"
D'Egmont looked very crestfallen at having his walk with the goddess
thus cut short, but he had perforce to kiss her hand and to obey.
"Yes. I thought you would be pleased," remarked Lord Robert, and
chuckled. "Allow me to point out to you that there is a chair--two
chairs--in fact, quite a number of chairs--immediately behind you."
She sat down, chattering excitedly.
"Why, 'tis nigh on five years since I saw Harry! Has he changed? Lud!
but he will deem me an old woman! Is he like to be in town for long, I
wonder?--Dear me, Bob, look at the two ladies over behind that
seat!--Gracious! what extraordinary _coifs_, to be sure! And cherry
ribbons, too!... Tell me, Bob, where did you meet Harry Lovelace?"
The Colonel, who, far from attending to her monologue, had been sending
amorous glances across to a palpably embarrassed girl, who hung on her
papa's arm while that gentleman stopped to speak to a stout dowager,
brought his gaze reluctantly back to his sister.
"What's that you say, Lavvy?"
"How provoking of you not to listen to me! I asked where you met
Harold."
"Where I met him? Let me see--where did I meet him? Oh, I remember! At
the Cocoa-Tree, a fortnight since."
"And he is altered?"
"Not in any way, dear sister. He is the same mad, reckless rake-hell as
ever. And unmarried."
"How delightful! Oh, I shall be so glad to see him again!"
"You must present him to Richard," sneered the Colonel, "as an old
flame."
"I must, indeed," she agreed, his sarcasm passing over her head. "Oh, I
see him! Look! Coming across the grass!"
She rose to meet the tall, fair young Guardsman who came swiftly towards
her, curtsying as only Lady Lavinia could curtsy, with such stateliness
and coquetry.
"Captain Lovelace!"--she put forward both her hands.
Lovelace caught them in his, and bent his head over them so that the
soft, powdered curls of his loose wig fell all about his face.
"Lady Lavinia!--Enchantress!--I can find no words! I am dumb!"
"And I!"
"In that case," drawled the Colonel, "you are not like to be very
entertaining company. Pray give me leave!" He bowed and sauntered away
down the path with a peculiarly malicious smile on his lips.
Lavinia and Lovelace found two chairs, slightly apart from the rest, and
sat down, talking eagerly.
"Captain Lovelace, I believe you had forgot me?" she rallied him.
"Never!" he answered promptly. "Not though you well-nigh broke my
heart!"
"No, no! I did not do that. I never meant to hurt you."
He shook his head disbelievingly.
"You rejected me to marry some other man: do you say you did not mean
to?"
"You naughty Harry!... You never married yourself?"
"I?" The delicate features expressed a species of hurt horror. "I marry?
No! I was ever faithful to my first love."
She unfurled her fan, fluttering it delightedly.
"Oh! Oh! _Always_, Harold? Now speak the truth!"
"Nearly always," he amended.
"Disagreeable man! You admit you had lapses then?"
"So very trivial, my dear," he excused himself. "And I swear my first
action on coming to London was to call at Wyncham House. Imagine my
disappointment--my incalculable gloom (on the top of having already
dropped a thousand at faro) when I found the shell void, and Venus--"
She stopped him, her fan held ready for chastisement.
"Sir! You said your _first_ action was to call upon me!"
He smiled, shaking back his curls.
"I should have said: my first action of any importance."
"You do not deem losing a thousand guineas important?" she asked
wistfully.
"Well--hardly. One must enjoy life, and what's a thousand, after all? I
had my pleasure out of it."
"Yes!" she breathed, her eyes sparkling. "That is how I think! What
pleasure can one get if one neither hazards nor spends one's money? Oh,
well!" She shrugged one shoulder, dismissing the subject.
"Have you seen Tracy of late?"
"He was at a court ball I attended at Versailles, but I did not have a
chance of speaking with him. I heard he was very popular at Paris."
"Ay!" she said proudly. "He has the French air.... I so desire to see
him again, but I fear he does not think of returning. I know he was
promised for the Duchess of Devonshire's rout months ago--before even
the date was fixed, she so dotes on him--but I do not expect to see him
there." She sighed and drummed on the ground with her diamond-buckled
shoe. "Harry, I am chilled! Take me to the Pavilion! I doubt they are
dancing--and Dicky will be there."
"Dicky?" he repeated. "Dicky! Lavinia, do not tell me there is another
claimant to your heart?"
"Wicked, indelicate creature! 'Tis my husband!"
"Your _husband_! Enfin--"
She cast him a sidelong glance of mingled coquetry and reproof.
"Your mind is at rest again, I trust?"
"Of course! A husband? Pooh, a bagatelle, no more!"
"My husband is not a bagatelle!" she laughed. "I am very fond of him."
"This grows serious," he frowned. "'Tis very unfashionable, surely?"
She met his teasing eyes and cast down her lashes.
"Captain Lovelace, you may take me to the Pavilion."
"Sweet tormentor, not until you cease so to misname me."
"Harold, I am indeed chilly!" she said plaintively and snatched her hand
from his lips. "No, no! People will stare--look, there is my odious
brother returning! I declare I will not stay to listen to his hateful,
sneering remarks!... Come!"
They walked across the grass together, keeping up a running fire of
raillery, punctuated on his side by extravagant compliments filled with
classical allusions, all more or less erroneous, and on hers by
delighted little laughs and mock scoldings. So they came to the
Pavilion, where the musicians fiddled for those who wished to dance, and
where most of the company had assembled now that it was growing chilly
without. Down one end of the hall, card-tables were set out, where
members of both sexes diced and gambled, drinking glasses of burgundy or
negus, the men toasting the ladies, and very often the ladies returning
the toasts with much archness and low curtseying.
Lavinia cast off her _capuchin_ and plumed her feathers, giving a
surreptitious shake to her ruched skirts and smoothing her ruffles. She
rustled forward with great stateliness, fan unfurled, head held high,