‘Monseigneur, he was a pig-person. Now tell me how it happened. Who was there?’
‘We were all of us there, babe, even M. Marling, and Milor’ Merivale. For the rest there was Condé, the de la Roques, the d’Aiguillons, the Saint-Vires, including Armand; Lavoulère, d’Anvau – in fact, infant, all the world.’
‘Did Lady Fanny and the others know that you were going to kill the pig-person, Monseigneur?’
‘Infant, pray do not go through the world, saying that I killed him.’
‘No, Monseigneur. But did they know?’
‘They knew that I meant to strike that night. They were all very bloodthirsty.’
‘Vraiment? Even M. Marling?’
‘Even he,’ nodded Avon. ‘You see, ma fille, they all love you.’
She blushed.
‘Oh…! What did you wear, Monseigneur?’
‘Thus the female mind,’ murmured his Grace. ‘I wore gold, infant, and emeralds.’
‘I know. It is a very fine dress, that one. Go on, please, Monseigneur.’
‘Rupert and Hugh stood by the doors,’ said his Grace, ‘and Merivale engaged Saint-Vire in pleasant converse. Lady Fanny had your mother in hand. I told them your story, child. That is all.’
‘Voyons! ’ she exclaimed. ‘It is nothing! When you had told them what happened?’
‘Your mother collapsed. You see, my child, I let them think that you had drowned yourself. She cried out then, and Saint-Vire, since she had thus betrayed him, shot himself.’
‘It must have been very exciting,’ she remarked. ‘I wish I had been there. I am sorry for Madame de Saint-Vire, a little, but I am glad that the pig-person is dead. What will the Vicomte do? I think it is very sad for him.’
‘I believe he will not be sorry,’ replied Avon. ‘No doubt your uncle will make provision for him.’
Her eyes sparkled.
‘Voyons, I have a family, it seems! How many uncles have I, Monseigneur?’
‘I am not quite sure, infant. On your father’s side you have one uncle, and an aunt, who is married. On your mother’s side you have several uncles, I think, and probably many aunts and cousins.’
She shook her head.
‘I find it very hard to understand it all, Monseigneur. And you knew? How did you know? Why did you not tell me?’
His Grace looked down at his snuff-box.
‘My child, when I bought you from the estimable Jean it was because I saw your likeness to the Saint-Vire.’ He paused. ‘I thought to use you as a weapon to – er – punish him for something – he had once done to me.’
‘Is – is that why – why you made me your ward, and gave me so many, many things?’ she asked in a small voice.
He rose, and went to the window, and stood looking out.
‘Not entirely,’ he said, and forgot to drawl.
She looked at him wistfully.
‘Was it a little because you liked me, Monseigneur?’
‘Afterwards. When I came to know you, child.’