‘In doing so, sir, I am forced to betray the – folly – of my sister. I dare say I need not ask you to – to forget that part of the tale.’
‘My memory is most adaptable, Miss Challoner.’
‘Thank you, sir. You must know then that I have a sister who is very young, foolish as girls are sometimes, and very, very lovely. Her path was crossed, not so long ago, by the Marquis of Vidal.’
‘Naturally,’ murmured her host.
‘Naturally, sir?’
‘Oh, I think so,’ he said, with a faintly satirical smile. ‘If she is – very, very lovely – I feel sure that the Marquis of Vidal would cross her path. But continue, I beg of you!’
She inclined her head. ‘Very well, sir. This part of the story is very hard to tell, for I do not wish to give you to understand that the Marquis – forced his attentions upon an unwilling female. My sister encouraged him, and led him to suppose that she was – that she –’
‘I comprehend perfectly, Miss Challoner.’
She threw him a grateful look. ‘Yes, sir. Well, the end of it was that the Marquis induced my sister to consent to fly with him. I discovered their assignation, which was for eleven o’clock one evening. I should explain that the billet his lordship sent my sister, appointing the hour, fell into my hands, and not hers. There were reasons, sir, into which I shall not drag you, which prevented me from informing my mother of this dreadful elopement. I need not tell you, sir, that his lordship did not contemplate marriage. It seemed to me that I must contrive not only to stop the actual flight, but to put an end to an affair that would only mean Sophia’s ruin. When I look back I marvel at my own simplicity. I conceived the notion of taking Sophia’s place in the coach, and when he discovered the imposture it was my intention to make him believe that Sophia and I had planned it between us, for a jest. I thought that nothing would more surely disgust him.’ She paused, and added drily: ‘I was quite right.’
The gentleman twisted the emerald ring on his finger. ‘Do I understand that you carried out this remarkable plan?’ he inquired.
‘Oh, yes, sir. But it went sadly awry.’
‘That was to have been expected,’ he said gently.
‘I suppose so,’ she sighed. ‘It was a silly plan. Lord Vidal did not discover the cheat until next morning, when we reached Newhaven. To find myself by the sea was a shock to me. I had not guessed that his lordship intended to leave England. I entered the inn on the quay in his company, and in the private room he had engaged I discovered myself to him.’ She stopped.
‘I can well imagine that Lord Vidal’s emotions baffle description,’ said the gentleman.
She was looking straight in front of her. She nodded, and said slowly: ‘In what followed, sir, I do not wish to lay any blame on Lord Vidal. I played my part too well, not dreaming of the revenge he would take. I must have appeared to him – I did appear to him – a vulgar, loose female.’ She turned her head towards him. ‘Are you acquainted w
ith Lord Vidal, sir?’
‘I am, Miss Challoner.’
‘Then you will know, sir, that his lordship’s temper is extremely fiery and uncontrolled. I had provoked it, and it – it was disastrous. Lord Vidal forced me to go on board his yacht, and carried me to Dieppe.’
The gentleman felt for his quizzing-glass, and raised it. Through it he surveyed Miss Challoner. ‘May I ask what were his lordship’s tactics?’ he inquired. ‘I feel an almost overwhelming interest in the methods of daylight abduction employed by the modern youth.’
‘Well, it was not very romantic,’ confessed Miss Challoner. ‘He threatened to pour the contents of his flask down my throat, thereby rendering me too drunk to resist.’ She saw a frown in his eyes, and said: ‘I fear I shock you, sir, but remember that his lordship was enraged.’
‘I am not shocked, Miss Challoner, but I infinitely deplore such a lack of finesse. Did his lordship carry out this ingenious plan?’
‘No, for I submitted. To be made drunk seemed to me a horrid fate. I said I would go with him. It was very early, and there was no one on the quay, so that I could not call for help, even had I dared. And since his lordship threatened to strangle me if I made the least outcry, I am sure I should not have dared. I went on board the yacht, and as our passage was rough, I was most vilely unwell.’
A smile flickered across her hearer’s countenance. ‘My sympathies are with Lord Vidal. He no doubt found you most disconcerting.’
She gave a little laugh. ‘I think you don’t know him very well, sir, for it is one of the nice things about him that he was not disconcerted, but on the contrary, extremely prompt in dealing with the situation.’
He was looking at her rather curiously. ‘I thought that I knew him very well,’ he said. ‘Apparently I was wrong. Pray continue: you begin to interest me vastly.’
‘He has a dreadful reputation,’ she said earnestly, ‘but he is not wicked at heart. He is nothing but a wild, passionate, spoiled boy.’
‘I am all admiration for your shrewdness, Miss Challoner,’ said the gentleman politely.
‘It is true, sir,’ she insisted, suspecting him of irony. ‘When I was sick on that yacht –’
He raised one thin hand. ‘I accept your reading of his lordship’s true nature, Miss Challoner. Spare me a recital of your sufferings at sea, I beg of you.’
She smiled. ‘They were excessively painful, sir, I assure you. But we arrived at length at Dieppe, where his lordship had planned to spend the night. We dined. His lordship had, I think, been drinking aboard the yacht. He was in an ugly mood, and I was compelled, in the end, to protect my virtue in a somewhat drastic manner.’