The Chevalier had walked over to the window, but he turned swiftly at this. ‘You would say that Miss Broughty is in trouble?’
‘That’s it,’ nodded Freddy. ‘Run away from Hans Crescent. Not the thing, but can’t blame her. Never saw such a set of rum touches in my life as those relations of hers! What’s more,’ he added, considering the matter dispassionately, ‘not a good part of the town. Wouldn’t like to live there myself.’
‘For the love of God—!’ cried the Chevalier impatiently. ‘What has happened to her? Where is she?’
‘Left her with m’sister,’ Freddy replied. ‘She came to ask Kit to help her.’
‘Ah, she has a heart of gold, this Kitty, and she will do so!’ the Chevalier exclaimed, his brow lightening a little.
‘Daresay she might, but she ain’t there,’ said Freddy stolidly.
‘Not there! Where then is she?’
‘Gone down to my great-uncle’s. Poor girl’s at a standstill: don’t know what to do! Seemed to me I’d best come and tell you about it. Thing is, she can’t stay in Berkeley Square. First place that Broughty-woman will think of, when she starts searching for her.’
‘But tell me, I beg of you! It is not—mon Dieu, it is not that madame has discovered—? It is not I who am the cause—?’
‘Oh, no, nothing of that nature! You know Sir Henry Gosford? Offered for her.’
‘That ancient!’ the Chevalier said contemptuously. ‘I know well the intentions of Madame Broughty, but Olivia will laugh at the vieillard!’
‘Wasn’t laughing when I saw her. Said her mother would kill her if she didn’t do as she was bid. Shouldn’t think she would, myself, but no use telling Miss Broughty that: in the deuce of a pucker, y’know! Trembling all over.’
‘Ah, la pauvre! it is a dragon de femme, that one, but she cannot force that angel to the altar, after all! She will scold, she will threaten, but she will not harm her own daughter! This Sir Henry will be forgotten—I too must be forgotten!—and one da
y, I am assured, she will meet another—un brave homme!—and she will be happy. To think of it is to tear the heart from my body, but I must wish it for her sake—I must accustom myself to the thought!’
‘Well, it ain’t a particle of use accustoming yourself to it,’ said Freddy, unimpressed. ‘Won’t happen.’
‘She will not consent to marry that radoteur!’
‘No, very likely not. Seems to me she’ll accept a carte blanche from my cousin Jack,’ said Freddy brutally.
‘No! no!’ ejaculated the Chevalier, turning pale. ‘You shall not say such a thing!’
‘Have said it. Very understandable thing to do. Frightened of her mother: won’t return to her. You go off to France: nothing else she can do! Must know Jack would treat her devilish handsomely: at least, he would while she was living under his protection. Trouble is, these little affairs don’t commonly last long. Mind, I don’t say Jack would turn her off without a shilling, because he wouldn’t. Shabby thing to do, and he ain’t shabby. But—’
‘Stop! Stop!’ said the Chevalier hoarsely. He cast himself into a chair by the table, and buried his face in his hands. ‘Every word you speak is torture! Ah, why did I cross her path? I have brought misery upon her!’
‘Don’t see that at all,’ objected Freddy. ‘Dashed good thing you did cross her path! Able to rescue her.’
The Chevalier’s fingers, writhing amongst his glossy brown locks, were fast ruining what had been a admirable example of the Brutus, made fashionable by Mr Brummell. Freddy watched this with pained disapproval. It did not seem to him to serve any useful purpose; it was, in fact, a work of quite wanton destruction.
‘You do not understand!’ groaned the Chevalier. ‘I would give my life, my all, but I am helpless! I cannot help her, I, of all men! You may say I am au bout de mon Latin!’
‘Well, I shouldn’t say anything of the sort, because I ain’t at all easy in the French tongue, and I’m dashed if I know what it means. Daresay m’father would: they used to talk the devil of a lot of French in his day. Italian, too. Went junketing about all over the Continent, y’know. That fellow Bonaparte put a stop to that, which is why I never made the Grand Tour. Not that I’m complaining. Never thought I should have liked it above half, to tell you the truth.’
The Chevalier stared at him rather wildly. ‘Ah, what are you saying? It is hors de propos! You bring me news which kills me, and talk to me of the Grand Tour! It is entirely English, en effet!’
‘Well, what the deuce should it be?’ said Freddy reasonably. ‘Just told you I don’t speak French!’
The Chevalier once more sank his head in his hands, saying with a bitter laugh: ‘Oh, you are without sensibility, you!’
‘I may be without sensibility, but I’m dashed if I’d sit tearing my hair out when a man came to tell me Kit was in trouble!’ retorted Freddy. ‘Much good that would do her!’
The Chevalier raised his head, and flung out his hands. ‘But can you not understand that I am without power? Never would that woman permit me to marry Olivia! Ah, do you imagine that I do not care, that I do not desire with all my heart to call her my own, to take her to France, far, far from such as her mother—that Gosford—that roué, your cousin?’
‘Well, why the devil don’t you do it?’ demanded Freddy. ‘Never saw such a fellow for making speeches!’