Indeed, it seemed so, for there was at once a bustle made. The numerous valises and boxes were brought into the house; a footman came bowing to inform Mr Tremaine that his lordship was unfortunately out, but should be sent for in a trice, to White’s.
Mr Tremaine refused this offer. Having drunk a glass of excellent Burgundy, brought by yet another footman, he announced his intention of setting forth himself in search of his father. Faith, one must face everyone sooner or later; then a’ God’s name let it be at once!
One of the lackeys at White’s escorted Mr Tremaine to the card-room, and stood for a moment by the door looking round for my lord. Robin paused beside him, holding his hat under his arm, and his handkerchief and snuff-box in the other hand. Several people looked up, wondering who the handsome young stranger might be. Mr Belfort, dicing with Devereux and Orton, said: – ‘Gad, that’s a devilish modish wig! Who is it?’
Sir Raymond looked round and met Robin’s eyes. ‘I don’t think I know him,’ he said hesitatingly. ‘Yet – there’s something faintly familiar in his face.’
Mr Devereux put up his glass. ‘’Pon my soul, Bel, that’s a monstrous pretty fashion of lacing he has to his coat! A prodigiously modish young buck, I protest!’
At the next table Mr Troubridge said: – ‘Who’s the stranger? I seem to have seen that face before. A handsome boy, and carries himself well. A little arrogant, perhaps.’
Certain, Robin carried himself well, and had his trim figure well set off by a marvellously cut coat of dark blue cloth. He appeared to have been travelling, for he wore top-boots, highly polished, on his small feet, and a sword at his side. His coat was heavily laced with gold, tight across the shoulders and at the waist, and spreading them into wide skirts, silk-lined, the cuffs very large and turned back almost to the elbow to show a profusion of Mechlin ruffles. His waistcoat, a dozen men of fashion noted at once, was of the very latest style; the lace at his throat was arranged to fall in cascades down his chest, and there was a sapphire pin glinting in it. His wig, at which Mr Belfort, an expert in these matters, had exclaimed, must have come direct from Paris; the hat under his arm was richly edged with finest point. His blue eyes were cool; his mouth, though delicately curved, was firm enough; when he turned that arrogant profile towards Mr Troubridge that gentleman said with greater emphasis than before: – ‘Gad, yes! A remarkably handsome boy. A pity he is not taller.’
The lackey had perceived my lord over by the window, and pointed him out now to Robin. Robin went forward between the tables, and stood at his father’s elbow. ‘Sir –’
My lord was playing picquet with my Lord March. He looked round and exclaimed. ‘My Robin!’ He threw down his cards and sprang up. ‘My son!’ he said joyously.
Robin stood bowing deeply before his father. ‘I’ve but this instant arrived, sir.’ His lips brushed the back of my lord’s hand punctiliously. ‘I found you from home, and came to seek you here. You permit?’
My lord clasped his arm. ‘And I am from home when my Robin arrives! My Lord March, you will allow me to present to you my son?’
‘So this is your son, is it, Barham?’ My lord nodded in a friendly fashion to the grave young gentleman bowing so gracefully before him. His lordship was not, after all, so very far removed from Robin’s age, but he had the manner of a man of forty. ‘A very pretty youth, Barham. And are you just come from France, Tremaine?’
‘Just, sir.’
‘I dare swear you have all the latest fashions at your finger-tips then. Is it true they are wearing ear-rings in Paris?’
‘I have occasionally seen them, sir. At balls a single ear-ring is considered in some circles de rigueur.’
By this time nearly everyone in the card-room had realized that the modish stranger must be my lord’s long looked-for son. Sir Raymond Orton said that it accounted for the familiarity of his face, and went to be introduced.
My lord presented his son with justifiable pride, and had the satisfaction of seeing him borne off to dice at Orton’s table. Mr Belfort and Mr Devereux received him with kindness, and made him welcome. He protested that he had no right to be in the club at all, but was told that that was nonsense. In a day or two he would of course be made a member. He was found to be well-versed in the ways of the world, and could tell an entertaining tale. Mr Belfort enrolled him promptly in the numerous ranks of his intimates.
On his way out of the room Mr Troubridge paused to lay a hand on Robin’s arm. ‘Barham’s son?’ he said. ‘To be sure, we have all been most anxious to see Robin Tremaine.’
Robin rose to his feet, a hand on the back of his chair. ‘You are very kind, sir.’
‘And have you brought your sister?’ smiled Mr Troubridge.
Robin’s brows rose. ‘My sister came over some time before me, sir. She is the guest of my Lady Enderby, at Dartrey.’
Mr Molyneux, overhearing, gave a soundless whistle. So that was the charming visitor Tony had written about? Gad, but Tony had all the luck!
Robin very soon left the club in company with his father. My lord had presented him to everyone: several people said that they had thought his face vaguely familiar from the first, and were sure it must have been his likeness to his father. Robin bowed, and suppressed an inward smile.
Once outside the club my lord became more rapturous still. ‘You are perfect, my Robin! Perfect! There is not a soul will suspect. You had no trouble?’
‘None, sir. And you?’
‘How should I, my son? Need you ask?’
‘I suppose not. Am I to understand, sir, you are in very sooth Tremaine of Barham?’
My lord smiled. ‘My Robin, confess you have doubted me!’
‘Yes, sir. I do not know that I am to be blamed.’
‘Certainly you are to be blamed. You who have known me from your cradle!’
‘For that very reason, sir, I doubted.’
‘Ah, you should have had faith in me, my Robin!’
‘I had, sir – in your ingenuity.’
My lord shook a finger. ‘I saw from the outset that you doubted. I might have convinced you. I chose rather to confound you, as I do now.’
Robin blinked. ‘Let me have a plain answer, sir. Is this all a trick, or are you Tremaine?’
‘Of course I am Tremaine,’ said his lordship, with a calmness more convincing than all his heroics.
Robin turned his head to stare. He drew a deep breath. ‘Give me time, sir. You have certainly confounded me. I confess, I thought it a trick.’
My lord laughed in gentle triumph. ‘I am always an unknown quantity, my Robin. You should have thought of that. But if I were not in very truth Tremaine of Barham – which I am – I should stand precisely where I stand to-day. Therein lies my greatness. Believe it!’
‘Oh, I do, sir. I’m of the opinion you might be King of England if you choose.’
My lord considered this. ‘It is possible, my son,’ he said seriously. ‘I do not say that it would be altogether beyond my powers. But there would be difficulties – great difficulties.’
‘Lord, let’s remain content as we are!’ said Robin, alarmed. ‘I’m satisfied, sir.’
‘I told you, and you would not believe it, that we had come to the end of our wanderings!’
‘I doubt I shall wake up soon,’ said Robin.
He was present at a dinner party my lord gave that night, and my lord’s guests decided that he was a charmingly mannered young man. My lord said afterwards: – ‘You will be almost as great a success as your father, my Robin!’
‘Impossible, sir,’ said Robin, stirring the dregs of punch in the big silver bowl.
‘I do not deny it,’ said my lord. His eyes rested fondly on his son’s fair face. ‘To-morrow, Robin, you will go down to Dartrey and bring my Prudence to Barham.’
Came a slight frown. �
�The next day, an it please you, sir. I’ve affairs of my own to-morrow.’
These affairs took him, on the next day, to the house of Sir Humphrey Grayson. Sir Humphrey received him in his library, and looked somewhat at a loss. ‘Mr Tremaine?’ he said. Robin bowed. ‘I have to suppose – my Lord Barham’s son?’ Again Robin bowed. ‘Er – you have business with me?’ Sir Humphrey was puzzled.
Robin looked straightly at him. ‘Sir Humphrey, may I ask what you may perhaps think an impertinent question? – Are you in your daughter’s confidence?’
‘Fully, sir.’ Sir Humphrey was a little stiff.
‘She has perhaps mentioned to you a man calling himself l’Inconnu ?’
Sir Humphrey started. ‘Sir?’
‘I am he,’ said Robin quietly.
For a moment Sir Humphrey could find no words. This slim boy – that magic swordsman Letty raved about! No highwayman, no outlaw, as he had feared, but a Viscount’s son and heir! ‘You?’ he gasped. ‘You are the man who saved my daughter? Barham’s son! You will excuse me, sir; I am completely taken aback! Are you indeed my daughter’s mysterious champion?’
‘A grander term than I should have chosen, sir. I am the Unknown who killed Markham, certainly. But I beg you won’t mention it.’
‘You are he! Sir, you must let me take your hand! I owe you more than I can ever hope to repay. Indeed, I scarcely know how to thank you, for words seem to be inadequate!’
Robin broke in, flushing. ‘Sir Humphrey, you will agree that gratitude is out of place when I tell you that I love your daughter. I am here to-day to ask you for your permission to pay my addresses to her in form.’
Sir Humphrey wrung his hand anew. His feelings were almost too much for him. At one moment he was under the gloomy conviction that the late appalling scandal had ruined his Letitia for ever; at the next a brilliant match for her was proposed to him. Her position in the world would be honourable beyond his wildest hopes, and no one would dare to talk scandal of the prospective Viscountess of Barham. He gave Robin to understand that he had a father’s blessing and suggested that he should send Letty to him at once.
Robin begged him, with a dancing smile, to lose no time in so doing. Sir Humphrey went off with quite a jaunty step.
In a few moments the door opened again to admit Letty. She was dressed all in primrose taffety, with a riband through her curls. Her father had not told her who waited to see her; there was a wondering expression in the brown eyes, and she looked doubtfully at Robin.
He stood in the middle of the room, watching her, and said no word. The puzzled gaze ran over him slowly; a little hand stole to Letty’s breast and her eyes widened. The slight, strong figure was surely familiar. She saw him put a hand to his pocket, and bring out a string of pearls. On his little finger was a gold ring cunningly wrought.
‘It is you!’ she said, little above a whisper. Then she saw the fascinating smile, and the pearls held out to her, and she came forward in a stumbling run. ‘Oh, you have come at last!’ she said, on a sob, and found herself in his arms. The pearls dropped unheeded to the floor.
‘I have come as I told you I should and you know what I demand!’ he said in her ear. ‘Letty, will you marry me?’
She breathed a shy yes; she was clinging to him, and she put up her face to be kissed. All dreams had come true for her.
The arms tightened about her. ‘Ah, you wonderful girl!’ Robin said. ‘You do not even know my name!’
‘I love you.’
‘I worship you,’ Robin said, and lifted one of her hands to his lips. ‘Do you love me enough to forgive, Letitia?’
His voice sounded anxious. She pulled his hand to her own lips. ‘Forgive you! I have nothing, nothing to forgive you!’
‘Ah, but you have!’ He put her gently from him. ‘Look at me! Look at me well, Letty!’
She was blushingly rosily, and dropped shy eyelids. He said more insistently: – ‘Look into my face, Letitia, and tell me then if you have nothing to forgive.’
The long lashes fluttered upwards; the brown eyes were misty. ‘What is it you mean?’ Letty asked.
‘You don’t know me? You don’t recognize me? Look at me well, child?’
She stared full into his face, blankly at first, and then with dawning astonishment. ‘But – but – oh no, you could not be!’
‘Could not be what?’
‘Another brother – another brother of Kate Merriot’s,’ she ventured. ‘You – it is the eyes – and the nose – and –’
‘I am not her brother,’ Robin said. ‘Try again, Letty. You come near the truth.’
She fell back a pace. ‘You are not – oh, you cannot be – no, no, how could you be?’
‘I am Kate Merriot,’ Robin said, and waited, his eyes on her face.
Letty was as pale now as she had been rosy. ‘You – you? A woman? You acted – But it can’t be! Kate was a woman!’
He shook his head; he was no longer smiling.
‘Oh!’ cried Letty. ‘Oh, the things I must have said –’ She broke off in distress.
‘I swear on my honour you said naught to Kate you would not have said to a man!’ he said quickly.
Letty was staring at him in amazement. ‘It was not fair!’ she said. ‘You might have told me!’
‘Will you let me explain?’ he asked. ‘Won’t you hear me?’
Letty came nearer. ‘Yes, please explain,’ she said in a small tearful voice. ‘But – but I wish you had trusted me!’
He held out his hand, and she put hers into it. ‘I wish I had, Letitia. But I had been schooled to tell no secrets. And this one had my life at stake.’
Her lips formed an O. ‘Tell me!’ she begged. ‘You know I forgive you anything. And I would never, never betray you.’
‘Beloved!’ He caught her to him. ‘I hardly dared to think that you could forgive so hateful a deception.’
She hung her head. ‘You forget – you are the Unknown hero,’ she confided shyly.
‘There’s very little of the hero about me, child; I’m an escaped Jacobite.’
Her head came up; her eyes sparkled. ‘And I thought it romantic to elope with that odious Markham!’ she cried. ‘Tell me all about it, please!’
At that Robin went off into a peal of laughter. She was surprised. ‘Why, you did not suppose I should mind, did you?’ she inquired.
‘I ought to have known,’ Robin said, and swept her off her feet. ‘My darling, my name is Robin, and I’m an adventurer! Will you still marry me?’
‘I like your name, and I should love to be an adventuress,’ said Letty. ‘May I be one?’
‘Alack, you are more like to be a Viscountess,’ Robin said, and sat down with her on his knee.
The tale took some time in the telling, and it left Letty wide-eyed and amazed. When she heard that Peter Merriot was Prudence Tremaine, she gasped, and gasped again. At the end for a while she could only bewail the fact that she had not known it all before.
‘And Tony knew? Tony? ’
‘My dear, it was Fanshawe rescued her from the hands of the Law,’ Robin said. ‘He carried her off to his sister, and I’m off to fetch her to-morrow.’
Letty stammered a little. ‘T-Tony tied up those m-men? T-Tony stopped the c-coach? Why-why-’
‘He’s not so stolid as you thought,’ teased Robin. ‘The truth is he has an ambition to marry her.’
‘Oh, and I thought he wanted to marry you!’ Letty cried. ‘And all the while he knew, and – oh, ’tis the most amazing thing I ever heard! It is wonderful, Robin! I am very glad, for I like Tony vastly. But your sister to play the man. – She must be monstrous brave and clever!’
‘Like her brother,’ bowed Robin. ‘For myself I have a weakness for a fairy-like creature with brown eyes, but I confess Sir Anthony is
fortunate. My Prue’s a dear creature.’
‘And – and you deceived me grossly!’ Letty said, but she did not sound angry. ‘Goodness, will your sister ever forgive me? ’Twas my fault she was taken by the Law for I told those odious men you had brown hair and were of medium height! But I never, never thought they would seize on Mr – I mean, on your sister. Robin, are you sure you are quite safe now?’
‘Quite sure, child. Robin Lacey is no more. Here is only Robert Tremaine.’
‘And no one would ever guess you were Kate,’ Letty said. ‘Even I did not guess until you made me look at you, and then I could not credit it. Oh Robin, Robin, I knew you would come again, but I have been so miserable! There has been the horridest scandal and aunt is dreadfully cross.’
‘But now,’ Robin said, holding her close, ‘it is for me to see that you are happy ever after. And I will see to it.’
‘I am happy,’ Letty said into his shoulder. A thought came to her; she lifted her head, and said in a voice of unholy glee: – ‘And aunt shall see that I am not in the least ruined for life! She will look very silly when she knows I am to be a Viscountess one day!’
Thirty-two
Journey’s End
Robin had instructions to bring his sister to Barham Court, where my lord would await their coming. My lord wrote a beautiful letter to my Lady Enderby, thanking her for her kindness to his daughter, and begging her to honour his house with her company. He purposed to invite Sir Humphrey and Letty Grayson down too; my Lady Lowestoft, and of course Sir Anthony Fanshawe. He had begun to meditate nuptials: Robin felt sure that they were to be magnificent.
As for this unlooked for ending, it took Robin’s breath away. It seemed there was no longer room for doubt: the old gentleman was Barham indeed, and the days of their adventuring were over. Faith, and it was like him to allow his children to doubt him to the end! It gave him the chance to make a gesture. It had been so, Robin reflected, all through this masquerade. Simplicity was abhorrent to his lordship; he revelled in a net-work of intrigue; he loved to accomplish the impossible. A less tortuous man might have established his identity in a way quieter and more direct; a less fantastic man might not perhaps have perceived the need for his son and daughter to be in town all this while. They could have escaped to France, and waited there. Robin understood the workings of that stupendous mind. The old gentleman wanted them to see his triumph; it would have lost half its savour if they had not been there to be mystified, aghast, and at the last thunderstruck. He liked also to make a dupe of the whole of Polite Society. He had thrown his son and daughter right into the lion’s den, masquerading in a preposterous guise: Robin could imagine his delight. In fact, the old gentleman had once more shown himself to be too clever for the rest of the world, and for him that was the breath of life.
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