The Black Moth: A Romance of the XVIIIth Century
complete the happy reunion. Pray excuse me!"
"With pleasure," replied the Duke gently, and bowed as if to a stranger.
"He grows tedious," he remarked, as soon as the Colonel was out of
earshot.
"Oh, Bob! I take no account of _him_! But, Tracy, how is it you have
come to-day? I thought--"
"My dear Lavinia, do I wear an air of mystery? I imagined you knew I was
promised to Dolly Cavendish to-night?"
"Yes, but--oh, what matters it? I am so charmed to see you again, dear!"
"You flatter me, Lavinia."
"And now that you have come, I want to hear why you ever went! Tracy,
take me into the room behind us. I know 'tis empty."
"Very well, child, as you will." He held back the curtain for her and
followed her into the deserted chamber.
"You want to know why I went?" he began, seating himself at her side. "I
counsel you, my dear, to cast your mind back to the spring--at Bath."
"Your _affaire_! Of course! So the lady proved unkind?"
"No. But I bungled it."
"_You_? Tell me at once!--at once!"
His Grace stretched out his leg and surveyed his shoe-buckle through
half-closed lids.
"I had arranged everything," he said, "and all would have been well but
for an interfering young jackanapes who chanced along the track and saw
fit to espouse Madam Diana's cause." He paused. "He tripped me up by
some trick, and then--_que veux-tu_?"
"Who was it?"
"How should I know? At first he seemed familiar. At all events, he knew
me. He may be dead by now. I hope he is."
"Gracious! Did you wound him?"
"I managed to fire at him, but he was too quick, and the bullet took him
in the shoulder. It may, however, have been mortal."
"And so you went to Paris?"
"Ay. To forget her."
"And have you forgotten?"
"I have not. She is never out of my thoughts. I plan again."
His sister sighed.
"She is then more beautiful than the Pompadour?" she asked meaningly.
Tracy turned his head.
"The Pompadour?"
"Ay! We heard you contrived to amuse yourself in a pretty fashion,
Tracy!"
"Really? I had no idea people were so interested in my affairs. But
'amuse' is an apt word."
"Ah? You were not then _épris_?"
"I? With that low-born cocotte? My dear Lavinia!"
She laughed at his haughty tone.
"You've not always been so nice, Tracy! But what of your Diana? An you
are so infatuated, you had best wed her."
"Why, so I think."
Lady Lavinia gasped.
"Tracy! You do not mean it? Goodness me, but a marriage!"
"Why not, Lavinia?"
"Oh, a respectable married man, forsooth! And how long will the passion
last?"
"I cannot be expected to foretell that, surely? I hope, for ever."
"And you'll tie yourself up for the sake of one chit? Lud!"
"I can conceive a worse fate for a man."
"Can you? Well, tell me more! 'Tis monstrous exciting. Do you intend to
court her?"
"At this stage of the proceedings? That were somewhat tactless, my dear.
I must abduct her, but I must be more careful. Once I have her, I can
propitiate Papa."
"Tracy, 'tis the maddest scheme ever I heard! What will the others say?"
"Do you really suppose I care?"
"No, I suppose not. Oh, will not Bob be furious, though!"
"It were almost worth while--just for the sake of foiling him. He would
so like to succeed me. But I really do not think he must." His elbow was
on his knee, his chin in his hand, and a peculiar smile on his lips.
"Can you imagine him stepping into my ducal shoes, Lavinia?"
"Very easily!" she cried. "Oh, yes, yes, Tracy! Marry the girl!"
"If she will."
"Why, 'tis not like you to underrate your persuasive powers!"
His Grace's thin nostrils wrinkled up in a curious grimace.
"I believe one cannot force a girl to the altar," he said.
"Unless she is a fool, she'll have you."
"Her parent would be influenced by my dukedom, but she, no. Not even if
she knew of it."
"Does she not know?"
"Certainly not. I am Mr. Everard."
"How wise of you, Tracy! So you've nought to fear?"
"Fear?" He snapped his fingers. "I?"
The heavy curtain swung noiselessly aside. Richard Carstares stood in
the opening.
Tracy turned his head and scrutinised him languidly. Then he put up his
hand and removed his mask.
"Is it possible the husband scented an intrigue? It seems I am doomed to
disappoint to-night."
Lavinia, smarting from her morning's wrongs, laughed savagely.
"More probable he mistook me for someone else!" she snapped.
Richard bowed, his hand on the curtain. He had shown no surprise at
seeing the Duke.
"Far more probable, my dear. I thought you Lady Charlwood! Pray give me
leave." He was gone on the word.
Tracy replaced his mask, chuckling.
"Honest Dick grows cold, eh? But what a snub, Lavinia!"
Her little hand clenched.
"Oh, how dare he! How dare he insult me so?"
"My dear sister, in all justice to him, you must admit the boot was
rather on the other leg."
"Oh, I know--I know! But he is so provoking!--so jealous!--so
unreasonable!"
"Jealous? And why?"
With an impatient twitch at her petticoat she made answer, not looking
at him.
"Oh, I do not know! Nor he! Take me back to the ball-room."
"Certainly, my dear." He rose and led her out. "I shall do myself the
honour of waiting on you--to-morrow."
"Yes? How delightful 'twill be! Come to dine, Tracy! Richard is promised
to the Fortescues."
"In that case, I have much pleasure in accepting your invitation.... In
heaven's name, who is this?"
Lovelace was bearing down upon them.
"Lavinia! I have been seeking you everywhere!--ah--your servant, sir!"
He bowed to his Grace, and took Lavinia's hand.
"Oh--oh, Harold!--you remember Tracy?" she said nervously.
"Tracy! I did not know you masked! I saw you last in Paris."
"Really? I regret I was not aware of your presence. It is a good many
years since I had the honour of seeing you."
"Five," nodded Lovelace, and sent a smiling, amorous glance at Lavinia.
"Exactly," bowed his Grace. "You have, I perceive, renewed your
acquaintance with my sister."
When they were gone he caressed his chin, thoughtfully.
"Lovelace ... and Richard is so jealous, so unreasonable. Now I do hope
Lavinia will do nothing indiscreet--Yes, Frank, I was talking to myself;
a bad habit."
Fortescue, who had come up behind him, took his arm.
"A sign of lunacy, my dear. Jim Cavendish demands you."
"Does he? May I ask why?"
"He is in the card-room. There is some bet on, I believe."
"In that case I shall have to go. You had best accompany me, Frank."
"Very well. You have seen Lady Lavinia?"
Beneath the mask his Grace's eyes narrowed.
"I have seen Lavinia. Also I have seen an old friend--Lovelace by name."
"The captain with the full-bottomed wig? Your friend, you say?"
"Did I say so? I should correct myself: a friend of my sister's."
"Indeed? Yes, I believe I have seen him in her company."
Tracy smiled enigmatically.
"I daresay."
"And what of you, Tracy?"
"Well? _What_ of me?"
"You told me this morning that you had at last fallen in love. It is
true? You are honestly in love?"
"Honestly? How do I know? I only know that I have felt this passion for
four months, and now it is stronger than ever. It sounds like love."
"Then, an she is a good woman, I hope she will consent to take you, such
as you are, and make of you such as she can!"
"Now that is very neat, Frank. I congratulate you. Of course she will
take me; as to the rest--I think not."
"Tare an' ouns, Tracy! but an that is the tone you take with her, she'll
have none of you!"
"I have never found it unsuccessful."
"With your common trollops, no! But if your Diana is a lady, she will
dispatch you about your business! Woo her, man! Forget your own damned
importance, for I think you will need to humble yourself to the dust if
all that you tell me has passed between you is true!"
They had paused outside the card-room. A curtain shut it off from the
ball-room, and with his hand on it, Tracy stared arrogantly down at his
friend.
"Humble myself? 'Fore Gad, you must be mad!"
"Belike I am; but I tell you, Tracy, that if your passion is love, 'tis
a strange one that puts yourself first. I would not give the snap of a
finger for it! You want this girl, not for her happiness, but for your
own pleasure. That is not the love I once told you would save you from
yourself. When it comes, you will count yourself as nought; you will
realise your own insignificance, and above all, be ready to make any
sacrifice for her sake. Yes, even to the point of losing her!"
His Grace's lips sneered.
"Your eloquence is marvellous," he remarked. "I have not been so amused
since I left Paris."
CHAPTER XX
HIS GRACE OF ANDOVER TAKES A HAND IN THE GAME
When the Duke of Andover dined next day at Grosvenor Square, he
contrived, by subtle means, to make his sister feel inexplicably ill at
ease. He let fall pleasant little remarks concerning her friendship with
Captain Lovelace, in which she read disapproval and a sinister warning.
She was afraid of him, as she was not of her husband, and she knew that
if he ever guessed at the depths of her affection for the old flame, he
would take very effective measures towards stopping her intercourse with
him. It was, then, entirely owing to his return that she told Lovelace
that he must not so palpably adore her. Neither must he visit her so
frequently. They were both in her boudoir at the time, one morning, and
no doubt Lavinia looked very lovely and very tempting in her wrapper,
with her golden curls free from powder and loosely dressed beneath her
escalloped lace ruffle. At all events, Lovelace abandoned his daintily
bantering pose and seized her in his arms, nearly smothering her with
fierce, passionate caresses.
Her ladyship struggled, gave a faint shriek, and started to cry. As his
kisses seemed to aggravate her tears, he picked her up, and carrying her
to a chair, lowered her gently into it. Then, having first dusted the
floor with his handkerchief, he knelt down beside her and possessed
himself of both her hands.
"Lavinia! Goddess! I adore you!"
Bethinking herself that tears were ruinous to her complexion, Lady
Lavinia pulled her hands away and dabbed at her eyes.
"Oh, Harold!" she reproached him.
"I have offended you! Wretch that I am--"
"Oh, no, no!" Lady Lavinia gave him her hand again. "But 'twas wicked of
you, Harry! You must never, never do it again!"
His arm crept round her waist.
"But I love you, sweetheart!"
"Oh! Oh! Think of Dicky!"
He released her at that, and sprang to his feet.
"Why should I think of him? 'Tis of you and myself I think! Only a week
ago you vowed he was unkind--"
"You are monstrous wicked to remind me of that! We were both cross--and
then we were both sorry. I am very fond of poor Dicky."
"Fond of him! Ay, so you may be, but you do not love him! Not as a woman
loves a man--do you?"
"Harold!"
"Of course you do not! You used to love me--no, do not shake your head,
'tis true! You would have married me had it not been for Tracy."
"Oh, Harry! How can you say so? What had he to do with it?"
"What, indeed! Whose fault was it that I was time after time refused
admittance at Andover? Whose fault was it that you were induced to marry
Carstares?"
"Not Tracy's. 'Twas my own wish."
"Fostered by his influence?"
"Oh, no!"
"You never loved Carstares--"
"I did! I do!"
"You may think so, but I know better. Why, he is not even suited to you!
You were made for life and pleasure and hazard! With me you would have
had all that; with him--"
She had risen to her feet and drawn nearer to him, her eyes sparkling,
but now she covered her ears with her hands and stamped pettishly.
"I will not listen! I will not, I tell you! Oh, you are unkind to plague
me so!"