The Shadow of Tyburn Tree rb-2 Page 2

  "I'll have a care," he agreed. "But from what you said it did appear that should rashness or stupidity bring us to this evil pass we'll both be concerned in it."

  "Dear Roger," she laid a hand on his. "How could it be otherwise when our destinies are so entwined? Would not either of us hasten from the ends of the earth to aid the other in such an hour of trial? Physical passion between all lovers must always wax and wane, and in that we can be no exception. Yet, in our case, passion is but a small part of the link that binds us, and we shall love one another till we die."

  He raised her hand to his lips. "Thou art right in that; and neither temporary disagreements nor long separations will ever sever this sweet bond, that I value more than life itself. But tell me. When you saw the wedding ring, had you no inkling at all for which of us it was intended?"

  "None. And that, m'dear, comes from thy foolishness in proposing that I should seek to tell the future for us both at the same time. 'Tis a thing that I have never before attempted and it created a sad con­fusion in my telling. Seeing that I am married already, though, the odds are clearly against it being for me."

  "Not necessarily. Humphrey may break his neck any day in the hunting-field, or die any night from an apoplexy brought on by his excessive punishing of the port."

  She sighed. "I wish him no harm; but each time I've seen him of late he's been more plaguey difficult. We liked one another well enough to begin with, but now we have not even friendship left, or mutual respect."

  Roger made a comic little grimace. "Your main reason for choosing him rather than one of your many other suitors was because you had set your heart on Stillwaters. You have it; and he leaves you free to lead the life you choose, so it does not seem to me that you have much cause to complain."

  "After the first year we agreed to go our separate ways, and until last autumn he gave me very little trouble. But since then he has developed sporadic fits of prying into my affairs, and 'tis a thing that I resent intensely."

  "You've never told me of this."

  "There was no point in doing so. 'Tis not normal jealousy that causes him to make me these scenes when we meet. 'Tis resentment that I should continue to enjoy life to the full while he is no longer capable of deriving pleasure from aught but horseflesh and the bottle; and, some­thing quite new in him, a morbid fear that he may become a laughing­stock should my infidelities to him be noised abroad. I've a notion that the liquor is beginning to effect his brain. Should I be right in that a time may come when he will have to be put under restraint; and if that occurs he may live to be a hundred. So you see all the chances are that you will marry long before there is any prospect of my being led to the altar as a widow."

  "I've no mind to marry," Roger declared. "I would hate to be shackled for life to any woman; that is, unless I could marry you. But perhaps the ring was an omen of the future meant for both of us. Would you marry me, Georgina, if in a few years time you became free?"

  "Lud no!" she exclaimed with a sudden widening of her eyes. "I thank thee mightily for the compliment, but 'twould be the height of folly. Marriage is the one and only thing which might sap away the true love which otherwise will last us a life-time. Once we were tied I vow we'd be hating one another within a year."

  "Nay. I'll not believe it. We have so many interests in common, and never know a single dull moment when in one another's company. Even when passion faded we'd have a wealth of joyous things to do together."

  "Be truthful, Roger," she chided him gently. "Although I have been your mistress only for some five months you have already come to take me for granted, and there are now times when you are just a little bored with me."

  "I deny it," he cried hotly.

  " 'Tis so, m'dear. Why did you ask me to invite your friend Lord Edward Fitz-Deverel down this week-end, if not because I am no longer capable of retaining your whole attention, and you are beginning to feel the need for other interests?"

  "Oh, cornel That is nonsense. Whenever you entertain you must, perforce, give much of your time to your other guests, and I have never taken the slightest umbrage over that. I simply wished Droopy Ned to see your lovely home; and to have someone to talk to, other than your father and the Duke, in order to lessen the chance of my being rude to Mr. Fox."

  She laughed. "How you dislike poor Charles, don't you? Yet he is the kindest and most genial of men."

  "He is amusing enough and generous to a fault. 'Tis not his company I hate, but his politics. Not a bill goes before the House but he uses his brilliant gifts and mastery of intrigue to get it thrown out—entirely regardless as to the degree of good its passage might do the country."

  "That is but natural in a leader of the Opposition."

  "There are times when the Government has the right to expect the co-operation of the Opposition for the well-being of the State," Roger replied warmly. "But Fox would not restrain his venomous animosity to the Ministers of the Crown even if the Cinque Ports were in jeopardy. He is the bond-slave of an ungovernable ambition and would stick at nothing to obtain office. His unholy pact with my Lord North in '83 was proof enough of that. 'Twas the most despic­able manoeuvre that has ever disgraced British politics, and why you should elect to make a friend of such a man passes my comprehension."

  Georgina shrugged her ample shoulders. "I have three perfectly good reasons. Firstly, I like Charles for himself. Secondly, your idol Mr. Pitt is a boorish, uncouth recluse, who despises society; and since I cannot have the Prime Minister at my table, the next best thing is the leader of the Opposition. Thirdly, Mr. Pitt's reign cannot last in­definitely, and when he falls Charles will become the occupant of Number Ten. Then, Roger, my love, I'll be able to make you Paymaster of the Forces—as I promised I would when you were fifteen."

  "You are wrong about Mr. Pitt," Roger smiled, his good humour restored. "He is very shy, but neither boorish nor uncouth; and while your Mr. Fox is making pretty speeches to the ladies at Carlton House, or gambling thousands a night away at Brook's, Mr. Pitt is at his desk, working into the small hours for the good of the nation. As for your offer of the most lucrative post in the Kingdom, I am mightily obliged; but rather than accept it from the hands of Charles James Fox I would prefer to starve in the gutter."

  "Hoity-toity!" Georgina mocked him. "What high principles we have, to be sure. But as your patron, Mr. Pitt, has the King's purse to play with no doubt you can count on his keeping you from beggary."

  Roger ignored the gibe, and asked, "Is Mr. Fox bringing Mrs. Armistead with him?"

  "Yes. His 'dear Betty' has become an institution rather than a mistress these days. He rarely leaves London now without her, and makes her place at Chertsey his home whenever the House is not sitting. She has some education and is not a bad creature, even if she did graduate by somewhat dubious ways from being a serving wench."

  "How will his Grace of Bridgewater and his sister take her presence here? If Lady Amelia Egerton is as straightlaced as her brother I foresee noses in the air."

  "There will be no awkwardness," Georgina replied easily. "They are old friends and I know their tastes well. His Grace will be perfectly happy talking of canals and coalmines with Papa, and Lady Amelia, like many another old spinster, finds the breath of life in scandal. 'Tis for her that I asked that delightful old rake George Selwyn. He will keep her amused for hours."

  Roger laughed. "I had temporarily forgotten your artistry in mixing the most diverse types successfully."

  "I owe much of my success as a hostess to it; yet 'tis easy enough. One has only to give a little thought to seeing that each guest is paired by love or interest to another and, their own happiness being assured, none of them will give a fig who else is in the party."

  "All the same thou art a witch, my pet, in more ways than looking bewitching. Few other women would dare to brew the politics of both parties, the demi-monde and the aristocracy, industry and vested interests, a puritan Duke and an ex-member of the Hell-Fire Club, all in one week-end cauldron, without fea
r of its boiling over."

  "You may add diplomacy," Georgina told him with a smile. "Methinks I had forgot to tell you that Count Sergius Vorontzoff, the Russian Ambassador, is also coming."

  "And where does he fit into your scheme of pairs?" Roger asked with the lift of an eyebrow.

  Georgina's smile became seraphic. "Why, I have asked him to amuse myself, of course; while you are playing backgammon with your crony, Droopy Ned."

  "Seeing that Droopy is not a woman that hardly seems a quid pro quo."

  "Indeed it is. The conversation of your friend will entertain you admirably twixt now and Monday; whereas I have yet to meet the female who could engage my attention pleasurably for more than an hour or two at a stretch."

  "What sort of a man is this Muscovite?"

  "He comes of one of the great families of his country. His father was Grand Chancellor to the Empress Elizabeth. One of his sisters was the mistress of her nephew, the ill-fated Emperor Peter III; while another, the Princess Dashkoff, entered the other camp, and play­ed a leading part in the conspiracy by which the present Empress Catherine unseated her husband and usurped his throne."

  "I had meant, what is he like personally?"

  "He is a dark man, not yet past the prime of life, with a clever, forceful face; and, I should hazard, is quite unscrupulous by nature. Underneath his culture there is a touch of barbarism which must give him a strong appeal to women. I met him at the Duchess of Devon­shire's several times this winter, and on the very first occasion he showed the good taste to express the most ardent desire to become my lover."

  Roger frowned. " 'Tis my belief that you have asked him down with the deliberate intent to make me jealous."

  "Lud no, dear man!" she replied airily. "We are both, thank God, far too sophisticated to fall a prey to such a sordid emotion. Did we not agree when first we became lovers that if either of us should choose to be unfaithful to the other no word-of reproach should mar our friendship?"

  "I know it!" Roger stood up and walked over to the window. The dark blue eyes that he had inherited from his Highland mother had become a shade darker, as he went on a little sullenly. "Yet I am not of the temperament to stand idly by and watch another man making a play for your favours."

  Georgina stretched and yawned. "Then m'dear, you are about to become a plaguey bore, and will be going back upon our clear under­standing. We agreed that we would remain free to indulge in casual amours if we wished, and tell or not tell of them as we felt inclined; to ignore such frailties in one another or, if in the case of either such a matter developed into a grande affaire, to separate without ill-will. 'Tis the only condition upon which I have ever entered on a liaison, or ever will; and you entirely agreed with me that, only so could two people live together and be certain of escaping sordid, wearing scenes of futile recrimination."

  Turning back from the window Roger said quietly, "That was our pact, and I will honour it. But tell me, frankly. Is it your intention to start an affair with the Russian this week-end?"

  She shrugged. "You know better than anyone how varied are my moods, and how unpredictable. How can I tell in advance what my feelings may be towards him upon closer acquaintance."

  He scowled at her for a moment, then said reproachfully. "I've felt for the past week or two that you were becoming restless, and that we were no longer in perfect accord; but I had not thought that our parting was to come so soon."

  "Dear Roger," she murmured, with a sudden return to gentleness. "I confess that my heart no longer leaps at the sound of your footfall coming to my room. But you too have lost something of your first fine rapture in me; and if you are honest you will admit it. A time always comes when even the best of friends should part for a season; and wise lovers always do so while there is still an edge upon their passion, instead of waiting for it to become entirely blunted. Only by so doing can they preserve a hope of coming together again with renewed zest sometime in the future."

  "So be it then; but at least let our relationship remain unchanged throughout the week-end. Then I will take my congéwith a good grace, and leave with your other guests on Monday."

  She hesitated a second, then she said. "I am most loath to do any­thing which would give you pain. And think not, I beg, that I am wearied of you to a point where I would have you make so hurried a departure. Stillwaters is so lovely in the Spring, and there is no one with whom I would rather gather daffodils in the woods than your dear self. Stay on for a further week or two, and bear me company while you make your future plans. But for this evening and to-morrow I crave your indulgence to try my wiles on Sergius Vorontzoff."

  Roger had too much pride to accept the proferred olive branch at the price. Instead, he snapped sarcastically. "From what you've already said 'twill need but little trying on your part to rouse the cave-man in this northern barbarian; and you must forgive me if I say that you seem in a positively indecent hurry to begin."

  "Nay. 'Tis not that," she murmured, her tone still mild. "I'll admit the man intrigues me, but I would have been well content to wait until our affair was ended, had not circumstances forced my hand. The truth is Charles knows that the Russian has a fancy for me and wrote asking permission to bring him down. It seems that the Opposition are particularly anxious to gain his interest, and, naturally, if I decide to take him in hand I shall be in a position to exert a certain influence over him."

  "May the devil take Charles Fox!" cried Roger angrily. "Damn him and his filthy political intrigues."

  "Oh, be sensible, m'dear. 'Twill prove well worth my while to render him this service, should I find that my own inclinations coincide with his interests."

  "Surely you would lose nothing by postponing the issue for a while?"

  "There lies the rub. I fear one might lose everything. 'Tis said that these Russians are as proud as they are bold. After the avowals he has already made me he will come with high expectations. Should I not give him some encouragement he may think that I have deliberately made a fool of him, and the strength of his resentment might rob me of any future chance to develop his acquaintance."

  Roger's face hardened. "You must have known he was coming days ago, yet you told me nothing of it. 'Tis clear that you were already considering him as a possible successor to myself yet lacked the frank­ness to tell me what was in your mind."

  "I thought of doing so but refrained, from an instinct that you would take it ill and behave towards me like a jealous husband; and rightly, so it seems."

  "On the contrary, Madam, I should have packed my bags and relieved you of my presence; as I would this very afternoon were it not that Droopy is coming here at my behest. Since that renders my immediate departure impossible I feel that I have the right to ask that, whatever assignations you may choose to make with Vorontzoff for the near future, you will spare me the humiliation of allowing him to make love to you till I have left your house."

  Georgina sighed. "Roger you weary me a little. I have been entirely faithful to you for these past five months; but now I invoke our pact. Before Athenais de Rochambeau gave you her heart you already loved her desperately; yet, as you have told me, you did not scruple to take mistresses for your amusement. Why then should you cavil so now if I elect to give something of myself to another, which will not detract one iota from my deep, abiding love for you. Besides, .as I have already said, I may give the Russian no more than a few kisses."

  "If you'll promise that I'll say no more."

  Slowly Georgina stood up, shook out the folds of her voluminous red velvet gown and drew herself up to her full height. They faced one another only a yard apart; two splendid, strong-willed, passionate young people. Then she said firmly:

  "I have already told you, Sir, all will depend upon how much or how little he attracts me on closer acquaintance. I refuse to be dictated to, and I will promise nothing."

  At that moment a coach-horn sounded in the distance, and she added, "There! That will be some of my guests arriving. I must hurry down to join Papa f
or their reception."

  As she was about to turn away he seized her by the arm, and cried furiously: "I'm damned if I'll let you tromper me under my very nose."

  "About that we'll see!" she snapped back, her dark eyes blazing. "But please to understand that from this instant I forbid you the entrée to my private apartments; and that I'll do as I damn well please!"

  Then, wrenching her arm from his grasp, she sailed regally from the room.

  CHAPTER II

  A LOSING BATTLE

  As Georgina reached the top of the main staircase Roger caught her up. Below them her father, Colonel Thursby, who adored, spoilt and lived with her almost permanently, although he had two houses of his own, had just come out of one of the four splendid reception rooms that gave onto the spacious entrance hall of the mansion.

  On catching sight of him Roger made Georgina a formal bow and offered her his arm. Laying her hand lightly on it she gathered up her billowing skirts with the other, and they walked down the broad, shallow stairs. By the time they reached the bottom not a trace of ill temper was to be seen on the face of either, although both their hearts were still beating with unnatural swiftness as a result of their quarrel.

  The front door was already open and a squad of liveried footmen were relieving the first arrivals of their wraps. These proved to be Lord Edward Fitz-Deverel and Mr. Selwyn. Both were members of White's Club and it transpired that the former, learning that the latter was also going to Stillwaters for the week-end, had carried him from London in his curricle.

  Roger's friend was some three years older than himself; an ex­tremely thin but rather tall young man with pale blue eyes and a beaky nose. He had derived his nickname of Droopy Ned from his chronic stoop, but he was a great dandy; and under his lazy manner he con­cealed a quick, well-balanced and unusually profound mind.

  George Selwyn was nearly seventy, although he did not look it; and from his mild, benign face no one would ever have guessed that in his youth he had been one of the most notorious rakes in London. He possessed an enchanting wit, a most kindly disposition and friends without number, being equally popular with Queen Charlotte and Betty the flower woman of St. James's Street.