‘Oh, but I know a deal of boxing cant! My brother George is much addicted to the Fancy—himself displays to advantage, so I’m told! No shifting, not at all shy; in fact rattles in full of gaiety!’
‘Bab, you incorrigible hussy!’
Their disagreement was forgotten; she began to talk to him of George, who was already on his passage to the Netherlands.
It was evident that George, a year older than his sister, was very near her heart. Colonel Audley was barely acquainted with him, but no one who had once met Lord George could fail to recognise him again. When he arrived in Brussels some days later it was from Liedekerke, in the vicinity of Ninove, where he was quartered. He rode into Brussels with the intention of surprising his family at dinner, but happening to encounter a friend on his way up the Montagne de la Cour, went off instead to join a riotous party at the Hôtel d’Angleterre. When he presented himself in the Rue Ducale some hours later it was to learn from the butler that Lord and Lady Vidal were at the Opera, and his sister at a soirée.
‘Well, I won’t go to the Opera, that’s certain,’ said his lordship. ‘What’s this soirée you talk of?’
‘I understand, my lord, a gathering of polite persons, with a little music, a—’
‘Sounds devilish,’ remarked his lordship. ‘Who’s holding it?’
‘Lord and Lady Worth, my lord.’
‘Lady Worth, eh?’ His lordship pricked up his ears. ‘Oh! Ah! I’ll go there. Won’t throw me out, will they?’
The butler looked horrified. ‘Throw you out, my lord?’
‘Haven’t been invited: don’t know the Worths,” explained George. ‘I’ll risk it. Where do they live?’
Judith’s salons were crowded when he arrived, and since the evening was too far advanced for her to expect any more guests, she had left her station by the door and was standing at the other end of the long room, talking to two Belgian ladies. The footman’s voice, announcing Lord George, was not audible above the clatter of conversation, and Judith remained unaware of his entrance until Madame van der Capellan directed her attention towards him, desiring to know who ce beau géant might be.
She turned her head, and saw his lordship standing on the threshold, looking round him with an air of perfect sangfroid. A handsome giant was a description which exactl
y hit him off. He stood over six foot, in all the magnificence of a Life Guardsman’s dress uniform. He was a blaze of scarlet and gold; a very dark young man with curling black hair, and dashing whiskers, gleaming white teeth, and a pair of bold, fiery eyes.
‘It is Lord George Alastair,’ said Judith. She moved towards him, by no means pleased at the advent of this uninvited guest.
He came at once to meet her. His bow was perfection: the look that went with it was that of a schoolboy detected in crime. ‘Lady Worth?’
‘Yes,’ she acknowledged. ‘You—!’
‘I know! I know! You’re not acquainted with me—don’t know me from Adam—wonder how the deuce I got in!’
She was obliged to smile. ‘Indeed, I do know you. You are Lord George Alastair.’
‘Oh, come now, that’s famous! I daresay you won’t have me thrown out after all.’
‘I am sure it would be a very difficult task,’ she said. ‘You have come in search of your sister, I expect? She is here, and your brother too. I think they must both be in the farther salon. Shall we go and find them?’
‘Devilish good of you, Lady Worth. But don’t put yourself out on my account: I’ll find ’em.’
She saw that he was looking beyond her, at someone at the other end of the room. She glanced in the same direction, and discovered that the object of his gaze was none other than Miss Devenish. It was plain that Lucy was aware of being stared at; she was blushing uncomfortably, and had cast down her eyes.
‘I will show you the way to your sister,’ said Judith firmly.
‘Thank you—in a moment!’ said his lordship, with cool impudence. ‘I have seen a lady I know. Must pay my respects!’
He left her side as he spoke, and bore ruthlessly down upon Miss Devenish. She was seated on a sofa, and cast such a scared look up at George that Judith felt impelled to go to her rescue. George was towering over her—enough to frighten any girl! thought Judith indignantly—and Lucy had half risen from the sofa, and then sunk back again.
By the time Judith, delayed by Mr Creevey in the middle of the room, reached her, George had not only shaken hands, but had seated himself beside her. His eyes were fixed on her downcast face with an ardent expression Judith much disliked, and a teasing smile, as impish as his sister’s, curled his lips. When Judith came up he rose. ‘I am recalling myself to Miss Devenish’s memory,’ he said. ‘It’s my belief she had forgotten me.’
‘I was not aware that you were acquainted with Lord George, my dear?’ Judith said, a question in her voice.
‘Oh!’ faltered Lucy. ‘We met once—at a ball!’
‘If that is all, it is no wonder that you were forgotten, Lord George!’ Judith said.