The Launching of Roger Brook

by Dennis Wheatley

  ‘Yes,’ Roger agreed quietly. In the back of his mind he had always feared that something of this kind might arise, but did not feel that any good purpose could be served by denying it.

  The Chief Constable hesitated awkwardly. ‘The fact is, Mr. Brook, although it distresses me mightily, I have here a warrant for your extradition to face a charge of murder.’

  Roger smiled a little nervously. ‘’Tis true that I killed a man, but ’twas the outcome of a duel. I pray you give me a moment to consult my father on what course I should pursue in this.’

  ‘With pleasure, Mr. Brook. In fact’—the Chief Constable winked a knowing brown eye—‘if ’twould be of any service to you I’ll willingly forget the matter for twenty-four hours and return to learn, er—your decision then.’

  ‘’Tis monstrous kind of you,’ Roger smiled as he left the room, ‘but I would like to speak with my father first.’

  When Admiral Brook heard what was afoot he nearly exploded. But he agreed with Roger’s own view, that the music should be faced and an appeal made to Mr. Pitt for his intervention.

  In consequence, Roger surrendered himself there and then; but on his appearing before the local justices they immediately accepted bail for him, on his father’s surety, at the nominal sum of one hundred guineas.

  At home once more he immediately wrote a full account of his meeting with de Caylus and sent it to the Prime Minister. But the days that followed were very anxious ones. He knew better than most people the relations which now existed in such matters between England and France. Ever since the signing of the Commercial Treaty in the summer of ‘86 such warrants for extradition had been promptly honoured in both countries. Contrary to immemorial custom, even debtors who had fled abroad were now being returned in considerable numbers to answer to their creditors; and in a case where murder was the charge only the most exceptional circumstances were likely to hold up the execution of the warrant.

  On the 30th he received a reply from the Prime Minister’s secretary. It simply said that Mr. Pitt would be pleased if Mr. Brook would wait upon him at No. 10 at 4 o’clock in the afternoon of the 4th of November.

  The letter could hardly have been more non-committal and, still feeling a considerable degree of anxiety, Roger proceeded to London on the 2nd.

  . . . .

  The 3rd of November proved to be a sunny autumn day and that afternoon Roger decided to go for a walk in Hyde Park. As he was strolling beside the drive that led towards Kensington Palace his eye roved over the handsome equipages in which numerous belles of the town were taking an airing.

  Suddenly he caught sight of Georgina, being bowed along behind two high-stepping greys. At the same moment she saw him and called to her coachman to bring her barouche to a halt beside the railings. Leaning out from it, she exclaimed:

  ‘Why! Roger Brook! Odds life! Can it in truth be you; or is it a ghost I see?’

  ‘Nay, ’tis indeed myself!’ Roger cried. ‘And prodigious glad I am at this chance meeting. Egad! You look more ravishing than ever.’

  Her billowing skirt of striped taffeta showing beneath a rich fur cloak, and her lovely face aglow from the fresh air, under a great picture hat decked with ostrich feathers, she was indeed a ravishing sight. At his words she dropped her black eyes in mock coyness and said: ‘I vow you flatter me, Sir. Yet I had cause to think you had quite forgotten me.’

  ‘’Tis not so!’ he protested quickly. ‘I swear to that. I inquired for you the first day I was home, and learned that you were then abroad. But did you never receive my letter?’

  ‘Nay!’ she cried, with sudden vehemence; her whole manner changing as she looked him squarely in the face. ‘Roger, thou art a very swine! Not one single line in four whole years have I had from thee!’

  ‘Georgina,’ he smiled. ‘You have not changed one iota, and the violent variation of your moods is as bewitching as ever. But I had reason for my non-communicativeness, since in the first years I had little to tell you that was to my credit. When can we meet so that I may crave pardon for my shortcomings for I would go on bended knee to retrieve my place in your good graces.’

  Her eyelashes fluttered and she pretended to become coy again. ‘I am a wife, Sir; and owe a duty to my husband.’

  Roger knew quite well that she was only acting, and he found her mummery enchanting. Playing up to it, he said: ‘Then needs must I seek your window, and bring a scaling ladder to it on the next dark night.’

  Suddenly she sat back and roared with laughter. Then, her dark eyes mocking, she replied: ‘I think you are improved and show a readier wit than when last we met; and ’twould intrigue me to learn what life has made of you. For old time’s sake I will cancel all my engagements this night and give you supper.’

  ‘You will!’ he cried eagerly. ‘Where shall I wait upon you, and at what hour?’

  Putting a finger on her red lips she leaned right out of the barouche, and whispered: ‘Be on the corner of Charles Street and St. James’s Square at nine o’clock. I’ll see to it that there is a plain carriage waiting there, and ‘twill bring you to me.’

  Before he could reply she had pulled the string attached to her coachman’s little finger. Then she waved her muff to Roger and gave him a glowing smile. The coachman cracked his whip and, as Roger made a gallant leg, the spanking pair of greys bore Georgina swiftly away.

  For the next few hours Roger’s thoughts were so full of the mysterious assignation he had been given by his first flame that it took them completely off his anxieties as to what Mr. Pitt might have to say to him the following afternoon.

  Returning to Amesbury House, where he was staying with Droopy, he donned the best suit in his new wardrobe, had Droopy’s barber do his hair, and availed himself of some of Droopy’s most expensive scent. At a quarter to nine, malacca cane in hand and looking as fine a figure as the most exquisite French Marquis who ever graced the galleries of Versailles, he took up his position on the corner of St. James’s Square. A few minutes later a closed carriage without arms on its door panels drove up, and he got into it.

  At a smart trot the vehicle carried him along to Hyde Park Corner, down the vale into Knightsbridge and out to Kensington village. There, it turned right and mounted a steep hill, then it entered the private grounds of a small villa and drew up before the porch.

  The moment he had stepped out of the carriage and closed its door it turned on the gravel sweep and drove away. As he approached the porch the door opened to disclose a trim female figure. Recognising the girl as Georgina’s personal maid at Highcliffe, Roger cried:

  ‘Why, Jenny! ’Tis good to see you again. How fares it with you?’

  She bobbed him a curtsey. ‘The better for seeing you, Mr. Brook, and well, considering the hours we keep. Milady awaits you, Sir, if you’ll be pleased to follow me.’

  The girl crossed the hall and ushered him into a room the size of which surprised him, seeing the smallness of the house. It was very lofty; the far end of it was shut off completely by heavy red curtains falling from the ceiling to the floor. Opposite them a cheerful wood fire roared in a wide grate. Before it was set a table for two, laid with crystal, silver and white napery. On one side of the fireplace there was a big generously-cushioned sofa and on it, dressed in a low-cut crimson gown that made a perfect foil to her dark beauty, sat Georgina.

  As Roger entered she regally extended her hand, on which there flashed a huge solitaire diamond, and, bowing low, he kissed it.

  ‘Come sit by me, and tell me all about yourself,’ she smiled up at him.

  ‘Nay,’ he declared as he sank on to the sofa cushions, ‘’Tis the privilege of the fair sex to have their innings first; and if I am to conceal nothing from you ‘twill take all of two hours to relate my story. So let us save it till after we have supped. But be pleased to tell me of this strange little house. ’Tis a most agreeable spot, but quite a way from the city. Do you live here?’

  ‘Lud, no!’ she ejaculated, ‘I’ve a mansion in St. Jam
es’s Square. This is but a pied-à-terre. There is a lovely view, though, from Campden Hill, here, and ’tis no great distance from the Metropolis. I come here when I am wearied of the madding crowd, and wish to be alone.’

  ‘Only then?’ Roger cocked a wicked eyebrow.

  ‘For shame, Sir! If you let your glances imply such things I shall turn you out. ’Twas built by an artist as his studio, and now ’tis mine. I paint here when the spirit moves me.’

  That sounds good cover for other amusements,’ he smiled, undeterred.

  ‘Indeed, ’tis true. Both Mr. Gainsborough and Sir Joshua Reynolds come here to give me lessons, and the rivalry between the two old gentlemen is vastly amusing. But, strap me! I do believe, Sir, from the impudent look upon your face, that you still question my veracity.’

  He made her a mocking little bow. Madame, ’twould never enter my mind to doubt a thing you say. ’Twas only—well, the seclusion of the spot, and the mysterious manner in which I was conveyed hither. You must forgive me, if in my poor debased mind I found some resemblance to those charming petit maisons outside Paris, in which the French nobles entertain the ladies of the Opera.’

  ‘Damn you, Roger!’ she laughed. ‘’Tis true enough, and from you I have no desire to conceal it. The paintings are there behind the curtain; but the place has other uses. As you well know, I have never been a subscriber to the view that the male of the species should alone be privileged to indulge in such diversions.’

  ‘And your husband?’ Roger grinned. ‘Is he then complaisant, or is he liable to interfere with my digestion, by leaping in through the window with a drawn sword, after supper?’

  ‘Oh, Humphrey!’ She shrugged. ‘His pack of hounds mean more to him than his wife. He has a box in Leicestershire, and is there now. If he has had a good day’s cubbing, he will be dead drunk ere this.’

  ‘Was it a love match when it started, that has gone cold upon you since?’ asked Roger. ‘Or was it the other thing?’

  ‘The other thing; although we liked one another well enough, and are still good friends.’

  ‘I thought, though, that you’d vowed you’d take nothing less than an Earl,’ Roger twitted her, ‘and he’s a mere baronet.’

  Her eyes became serious. ‘Fret not over that, my friend. I am but twenty-one and have ample time ahead of me. If Humphrey does not break his neck over the sticks, the poor fellow will burst himself like a rotten barrel, ere long. I’ll still be a Duchess before I die. I swear it.’

  ‘What induced you to marry Sir Humphrey, then?’

  At Roger’s question her face changed to a glowing enthusiasm. ‘’Twas Stillwaters, his place in Surrey. The first moment I set eyes on it, I knew I had to have it. ’Twas designed by William Kent. It has a terrace a quarter-mile long and a great Palladian portico with forty-foot pillars. The house overlooks lawns that slope down to a fine lake, and the whole is surrounded by birchwoods. You must come down to stay, Roger, and you will fall in love with it just as I did. ’Tis near Ripley, and not far from London. Just the right distance for week-end parties; and it gives me the perfect setting in which to entertain the great world that I have always hankered after.’

  He smiled. ‘I think I understand; and I see that you have been true to your original design. Do you get all the pleasure you anticipated from playing the great hostess?’

  ‘Indeed I do! To stick a mental pin into one statesman’s bottom, and let another kiss me behind a screen, gives me the greatest satisfaction when the planned intentions behind such acts become apparent.’

  They were silent for a moment, then he said: ‘Since your husband is so wrapped up with country pursuits, how did you manage to drag him abroad; or did you go alone?’

  ‘Lud, no!’ she exclaimed with a laugh. ‘’Twas to Italy I went, and had I been unescorted I verily believe those passionate Italians would have raped me in the street. As it was I had to have a footman sleeping outside my door each night. But Humphrey would have made a poor companion for such a journey. I travelled with my father, and I’d sooner see the sights with him than I would with most men.’

  ‘You’re monstrous fortunate,’ Roger told her. ‘Or perhaps I should say, clever. Since it seems to me you both have your cake and eat it.’

  ‘’Tis the art of life to know what one wants and have at it,’ she smiled. ‘And if I am any judge, dear Roger, I think from the fine figure you now cut, that you have become not altogether inept at that.’

  ‘If so, I owe more than I can ever repay to you,’ he said seriously. ‘You not only made me a man, but by your gift of yourself to me showed me what was worth having and what to cast aside. Had things been otherwise my first experiences might well have been so sordid as to alter my whole outlook.’

  She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. ‘’Tis good to hear that you are fastidious in your loves, and not become a rake. I hate a man who turns up the skirts of every wench he meets in a dark passage.’

  For a further ten minutes they talked of old times. Then Jenny came in with a tray of hot dishes that she put upon a heater, on a side table, and left them to help themselves.

  While Roger opened the champagne, Georgina served the food, then they sat down to supper.

  They ate well but with long pauses between each dish for talking over their wine. Halfway through the meal Georgina urged him to keep her in suspense no longer about his doings, so he began with their parting four years before and his meeting with Dan, the smuggler. He told her how he had narrowly escaped both becoming a prisoner in the French galleys, and drowning; of his meeting with De Roubec and how the Chevalier had swindled him out of her jewels; of old Doctor Aristotle Fenélon and their disastrous meeting with Joseph Fouché; of how Athénaïs had rescued him and he had then become the whipping boy of a lawyer’s apprentices; of the Légers’ kindness to him and his hopeless longing for Athénaïs; of his employment by the Marquis de Rochambeau to go into the matter of the Domaine de St. Hilaire; of his becoming the Maquis’s junior secretary and his friendship with the Abbé de Périgord; of his promotion on the Abbé d’Heury’s death and of Athénaïs’s illness; of her love for him and the international intrigues of her father; of the appearance of de la Tour d’Auvergne upon the scene and of Athénaïs’s engagement; of his duel with de Caylus and his flight with the eloping couple; of his escape from France and the assault that Fouché had made upon him; of his dash to London and recovery of the letter; of his interview with Mr. Pitt and his mission to the United Provinces; of his duel with George Gunston and of his present danger of being extradited to France on a warrant for murder.

  When he had done it was nearly midnight, although Georgina had hardly spoken a word, except from time to time to encourage him to go on. So fascinated was she by his story that they had not even moved, and were still sitting over the table. At length, when the tale was told, she said:

  ‘Thou hast fulfilled all thy promise, Roger. ’Twas a hard, uphill road that thou wast forced to tread, but having breasted the hill I foresee a great future for thee.’

  He made a grimace. ‘I pray you may be right; but unless Mr. Pitt is prepared to divert the normal course of justice on my behalf I may yet find myself handed over to the tender mercies of the French; and if that occurs M. de Rochambeau will make it his business to see that I die upon a scaffold.’

  ‘Have no fear,’ she smiled. ‘In view of your services, Billy Pitt could never look in his own mirror again did he refuse to intervene. But he is a good and loyal friend, so I have no doubt at all that he will do so without pressing. Even if he did not you have no cause to worry. It so chances that the Count d’Adhémar, who is the French Ambassador here, is one of my beaux. I vow that at my request he will get the charge against you withdrawn from the French Courts.’

  Roger looked up quickly. ‘Could you really do that? Mr. Pitt will protect me, I am convinced, by staying the execution of the warrant here. But if you could get the charge withdrawn in France that would be a boon indeed. ’Twould
mean that I could return there as a free man, if I wished.’

  ‘And ’tis your wish to return to France, Roger?’ she asked.

  ‘Why, yes; I’d like to, sometime.’

  ‘Not now, at once, to rejoin Athénaïs?’

  He shook his head. ‘Nay, she is married, and to my friend. That is over and done with.’

  ‘Do you miss her very much?’

  ‘Yes, damnably.’

  ‘You loved her very deeply, then?’

  ‘I did indeed. She was wondrous beautiful.’

  ‘Was she more beautiful than I am, Roger?’

  He smiled. ‘I would be a most ungracious guest were I to tell you so. But I will tell you something else. You have some quality that she lacked. Maybe ’tis your vitality, your good-fellowship, your warmth, your forthright mind, or maybe, ’tis nought but your infectious laughter. I do not know. Yet there it is. You have some gift, some power, some touch, that will attract men to you long after your beauty fades, and Athénaïs has become the pleasant but quite uninteresting mother of a grown-up family.’

  ‘I thank thee, Roger,’ she smiled back. ‘It seems then that thou wert in love with her beauty rather than herself; yet that makes no difference to the longing one can feel in such a case. Many a poor girl, knowing nothing of your mind, is yet destined to suffer the most desperate cravings for kind looks from those damnably attractive blue eyes of thine. Dost know that thou hast grown monstrous handsome, Roger?’

  ‘I have no cause to quarrel with my looks,’ he said slowly; ‘so we must make a pretty pair. For if I’ll not say that thou are the loveliest creature in the world, I’ll say that thou hast no rival in the length and breadth of Britain.’

  Georgina stood up. Although the room was still pleasantly warm she threw another log on the fire. Then she came round behind him and, laying a hand on his shoulder, checked his movement to rise from the table.

  For a moment she remained there in silence. Then she began to stroke his cheek softly with the tips of her fingers, as she whispered: ‘Yes, thou hast grown monstrous handsome, Roger darling; and ’tis pleasant to think that thou doest not find me ill to look upon. Dost know that we two are marooned here for the night? That is, unless thou hast the wish to undertake a plaguey long walk back to London. Thinkest thou that it lies within my power to console thee a little for the loss of Athénaïs?’