The Foundling

by Джорджетт Хейер

  “He has,” said the Duke, stirring the smouldering log in the hearth with one foot. He looked up with his mischievous smile. “No, do not ask me how, sir, for I could not explain it to you. Only do not be so vexed with me! I must sometimes be allowed to make my own decisions, you know.”

  “No one has ever been more urgent with you to do so than myself!” replied his lordship, in perfect sincerity. “I have boon foolish enough to have indulged the hope that you had come to years of discretion! I don’t scruple to tell you that I find myself sadly mistaken! When this abominable affair came to my knowledge, I was in search of you, to demand from your own lips an explanation of the extraordinary intelligence conveyed to me not an hour since by Moffat!”

  The Duke regarded his fingernails meditatively, “Ah, yes! The Five-acre field,” he said. “So Moffat has already told you, sir? Well, he would have done better to have left it to me, perhaps, but it makes little odds. I have the intention of bestowing it upon Jasper Mudgley, for a bride-gift—”

  “You need not put yourself to the trouble of telling me that, Sale! I have had the whole story from Moffat. I wonder I should have found the patience to have heard him out! Understand me, boy! while I hold the reins you will not sell or give away one foot of your lands!”

  The Duke raised his head, and met his uncle’s fierce look with one so icily aloof that Lord Lionel was startled. “I have borne enough!” he said, his voice still level, and low-pitched, yet with anger throbbing in it. “I will not endure any longer this ceaseless thwarting of my every wish! I am fully sensible, sir, of the great debt I owe you for your unremitting care of me, of my interests, but my gratitude would be increased tenfold if you would bring yourself to believe that I am neither a child nor a fool!” He paused, his chest rising and falling rather quickly, but Lord Lionel did not speak. He was still staring at his nephew, his expression hard to read. After a moment, the Duke continued: “You are aware of my reason for thus disposing of a part of my land. I would have explained this to you, had not Moffat forestalled me. I am persuaded that I have no need to remind you that this paltry patch of ground is not part of the Cheyney estate, and I trust that I have even less need to assure you that I have not the most distant intention of cutting up my inheritance. It is not I who stand in danger of forgetting that I am Ware of Sale! You have said that while you hold the reins—my reins!—I shall not give away one foot of my land. I shall not attempt to persuade you to alter that decision, sir: you will do as you please. But in a short space of time now I shall have reached my twenty-fifth birthday, and on that day, believe me (for I was never more in earnest!), Mudgley will receive from me the deed of gift that will put him in possession of the Five-acre field!” He stopped, and for a moment or two there was complete silence in the room. The Duke continued to meet his uncle’s stare, his eyes as stern as those older ones. Gideon, standing still by the fire, glanced from one to the other of the combatants with a wry twist to his mouth.

  “By God!” Lord Lionel said at last, slowly, “I never saw you look so like your father before, boy! So you mean to unseat me? Well, well, you are an impudent dog, but I am glad to see you have so much spirit in you! If you are so set on this business, I suppose you must have your way, but don’t imagine that it has my approval, for it has not! Ware of Sale, indeed!” He laughed suddenly. “There, stop glaring at me, Gilly! I have a very good mind to box your ears!”

  The rigid look vanished from the Duke’s face. He put out a hand that was not quite steady, and said quickly: “No, no, how could I say such things to you? Forgive me! You are the best, the kindest of uncles!”

  Lord Lionel was amused. “Very pretty talking, upon my word! Don’t think to cajole me with your caressing ways, you young rascal, when I know well you are determined to have your own way in spite of me!”

  The Duke gave a shaken laugh. “Yes. Yes, I am. But I need not have spoken to you so!”

  “Oh, I never liked a man the less for being ready to sport his canvas!” Lord Lionel said coolly. “But this fellow Liversedge, Gilly! Do you expect me to submit to being waited on at table by a villain?”

  The Duke smiled sweetly at him. “Well, he may as well make himself useful while he is still under my roof, sir. I am sure he will wait onus excellently. Besides, Harriet is here, and I really cannot have an indifferent dinner set before her!”

  “Harriet here!” exclaimed his lordship. “Good God, Gilly, why could you not have told me that before? Here am I in all my dirt, for I had not meant to change my dress since we are alone, and one must keep that fellow Mamble in countenance! Where is Harriet?”

  “I dare swear in Mrs. Kempsey’s room, sir. She will not regard your riding-dress, I assure you.”

  “I would not be guilty of such discourtesy as to sit down to the table with her in it!” declared Lord Lionel, hurrying towards the door. “Really, you are a great deal too thoughtless! You will make my excuses to Harriet, and say that I shall be down directly!” He opened the door, but checked on the threshold, perceiving that Liversedge was in the act of opening the double entrance doors. “Now, who the devil can be visiting us at this hour?” he said testily. “I hope that fellow has the sense to deny us!”

  Liversedge was given no opportunity of doing so. As soon as the doors were fairly open, Lord Gaywood thrust unceremoniously past him into the hall, saying through his teeth: “Inform the Duke that Lord Gaywood desires speech with him! And don’t tell me he is not at home, for I know very well he is!”

  “Well, Gaywood, what’s all this?” demanded Lord Lionel. “If you want Sale, he is here, and will no doubt be glad to see you. I see no occasion for these stable-manners you young men delight in assuming. Put down your hat and coat, and do not give me any of your black looks!”

  Lord Gaywood was in a towering rage, but this reception from one of whom he stood in the liveliest awe acted as a check upon him. He stammered: “I didn’t know you were here, sir!”

  “I daresay you might not, though what that has to say to anything I know not! Come in, Sale is in here. Gilly, here is Gaywood in some nonsensical pucker!”

  The Duke took the door-handle in his own hand. “Yes, sir, so I see.”

  The Viscount rolled a fiery eye at him, and said with painstaking civility: “I must beg the favour of a word in private with yon, my lord Duke!”

  “Certainly,” replied the Duke. “Come in!”

  Lord Lionel’s brows shot up. “Now, what’s the matter between you two?” he asked. “I’ll have no quarrelling here, understand! Don’t put on airs to be interesting, Gaywood, for they don’t impress me!”

  Lord Gaywood ignored him contemptuously. “I said, in private, my lord Duke!”

  Lord Lionel began to look rather grim. He turned, as though to come back into the room, but found that the Duke’s hand had been laid detainingly on his arm.”

  “If you please, sir!” the Duke said.

  “Now, Gilly, I don’t know what may be amiss, but I am not going to permit you—” He stopped, meeting the Duke’s eyes. “Oh, very well!” he shrugged. “Settle it between you! You will not do anything foolish, my boy!”

  He went off, and the Duke, still holding the door, looked across the room at his cousin. “Gideon!”

  Captain Ware grinned at him. “Content yourself with your signal victory over my parent, Adolphus! Nothing short of physical violence will remove me, and you would be very unwise to attempt anything of that nature, you know!”

  The Viscount achieved a sneer. “Hide behind Gideon if you choose!” he said. “You will not thus escape me!”

  “You know, Charlie, when you have gamed away all your fortune, you may take to the boards and be sure of success!” said Gideon admiringly.

  “Oh, be quiet, Gideon!” said the Duke wearily. “I wish you will go away! What is it, Gaywood? Have you come to offer me an apology? I promise you, you owe me one! If I were not about to be married to your sister I should be sorely tempted to call you to book! You are a curst nuisance!”r />
  “You call me to book!” gasped Gaywood. “By God, if that don’t beat all! You foist your bit of muslin onto my sister—and I can tell you I was within an ace of calling you out for that alone! and you—”

  “Belinda is not, and never was, my bit of muslin, and if you were not a rattle-pated fool you would know it!”

  “Doing it a trifle too brown, my lord Duke! Do you take me for a gudgeon?”

  “Good God, yes!” replied the Duke. “I have taken you for agudgeon any time these past ten years!”

  “Now, byJupiter, that’s too much!” exploded the Viscount, starting forward.

  He found his passage barred by Gideon’s broad shoulder. “Oh, no, my boy!” said Gideon. “Nothing of that sort. You’d best take a damper!”

  “Gideon, will you have the goodness to allow me to manage my own affairs?” said his cousin.

  Gideon looked at him for a moment, and then stepped back. “As you wish, Adolphus!”

  “I am obliged to you. Now, Gaywood, we’ll make an end to this nonsense, if you please, for I have quite come to the end of my patience!”

  “You served me the shabbiest trick, Sale, and by God, you shall answer for it! You’re a damned dog in the manager, sir! You did not want the girl yourself, but you could not bear that anyone else should have her! So you—”

  “On the contrary, I have given her into the care of the one man alive who does truly want her!” retorted the Duke.

  “Don’t try to bamboozle me with that tale! I make no doubt you have her hidden away somewhere!” said the Viscount furiously. “Where is she?”

  “Oh, in the arms of that Somerset bumpkin, of course!”

  The Viscount stared at him suspiciously. “She is, is she? I should like to know who the devil gave you the right to meddle in my affairs!”

  “I do not care a button for your affairs,” replied the Duke. “It was Belinda’s affairs that were my concern. You knew the truth, for Harriet told you it! How dared you, Gaywood, try to seduce a girl under my protection?”

  “Seduce her! That’s a loud one!” ejaculated his lordship with a short bark of laughter. “Much you know of it! Why, she fell into my hand as readily as any ripe plum!”

  A gleam of amusement shone in the Duke’s eyes. “Did she so?” he said dryly. “But not so readily, I fancy, that she could be persuaded to go with you until she had sent you running up Milsom Street in search of a purple gown!”

  The wanton provocation of this remark made Gideon open his eyes a little, and caused the smouldering flames of the Viscount’s wrath to leap up again. He flushed hotly, and almost audibly ground his teeth.

  “You’ll answer to me for what you have done this day, my lord Duke!” he said. “Name your friends! They shall hear from mine!”

  Gideon moved suddenly, as though again he would have stepped between them. The Duke flung out a hand. “Be quiet! Do you imagine I stand in need of abodyguard? So you would like to call me out, Gaywood! Famous!”

  “You dare not refuse to give me satisfaction!” Gaywood declared.

  “Satisfaction! You fool, if I went out with you, much satisfaction you would get from the encounter! I own, there was a moment today when I would willingly have met you, yes, and have put a bullet through you! Had you not been Harriet’s brother—But you are her brother, and though you may forget it I shall not!”

  “I’m not afraid of your damned marksmanship,” said Gaywood, white with anger. “You’ll accept my challenge, Sale!”

  “He will not meet you,” Gideon interposed. “No one but a madman like yourself would expect it of him!”

  “Who made you my spokesman?” demanded the Duke. “I’ll meet you, Gaywood, and I will tell you just what will happen at that meeting! We shall fire at twenty-five paces, I in the air, you where you please!”

  The Viscount appeared to fight for breath. “Delope? You would not! Why, I might kill you!”

  “You are welcome to try!” retorted the Duke.

  “I hardly dare to open my mouth,” drawled Gideon, “but there is much in what he says, Gaywood. I don’t reckon myself a mean shot, but I would think twice before I engaged in pistol-play with Sale. And you won’t hit him, you know. He is such a little fellow, and you are such a damnably bad shot!”

  What the infuriated Viscount might have been goaded into replying to this was never known, for at that moment Tom bounced into the room, in an extremely muddied condition, and announced that he had been helping to dig out a badger. He then caught sight of Gaywood, and exclaimed: “Oh, Mr. Rufford, that’s the beau that ran off with Belinda! Did you know?”

  “I thought as much!” said the Viscount, grasping Tom by the collar, and shaking him viciously. “Not content with the rest, you must needs set this whelp of yours to bubble me, Sale! By God, you might at least—”

  “He did not!” interrupted Tom, struggling to free himself. “I thought of it myself, and I’m glad I hoaxed you, and I’ll do it again if ever I have the chance!”

  “Gaywood, let that boy go!” the Duke said, grasping the Viscount’s wrist. “Your quarrel is with me, not with a schoolboy!”

  “No, it ain’t!” declared Tom, twisting himself out of the Viscount’s slackened grip, and squaring up to him purposefully. “You’ll have to settle with me before you touch my Mr. Rufford!”

  “That’s the spirit, bantam!” approved Gideon, much entertained. “No flourishing, now! Let’s see some of the homebrewed!”

  “For God’s sake, Gideon, will you be quiet?” said the Duke, half laughing, half exasperated. “Tom, go and make yourself tidy! You cannot start a mill in my library!”

  “I’m not afraid, if he is!” said Tom, observing with disgust the Viscount’s strategic retreat behind a chair.

  “Hey, what’s all this?” suddenly demanded Mr. Mamble’s voice from the doorway. “What’s he been doing, your Grace? I’ll teach him!”

  “Nothing!” replied the Duke, struggling not to break into the mirth that was consuming him. “A—a slight misunderstanding with Lord Gaywood!”

  Mr. Mamble executed one of his low bows in the Viscount’s direction, and begged him to state what devilry the pesky boy had been engaged on. He then cuffed Tom, and told him he should think shame to come into his Grace’s presence looking like a pauper brat.

  “Well, I couldn’t help getting my clothes muddied, Pa!” said Tom sulkily. “It was a badger!”

  “You say Papa, like you hear his Grace! How dare you go plaguing this gentleman with badgers? Now, you tell me this instant where you’ve put it, and no more tricks! I know you!”

  The Viscount’s face of astonishment proved too much for the Duke. He sank into a chair, covering his eyes with one hand, and making a helpless gesture with the other.

  “What the devil—?” exploded the Viscount, quite bewildered. “Who said anything about badgers! If that damned boy is your son—” He stopped, suddenly perceiving into what disclosures a complaint against his youthful tormentor would lead him. “Oh, never mind, never mind!” he said irritably.

  “You tell his lordship you’re sorry for what you’ve done!” Mr. Mamble adjured his offspring.

  “I ain’t sorry!” said Tom recalcitrantly. “I did it because I knew Mr. Rufford would be pleased, and he was! And I won’t let him bully Mr. Rufford, not if you tell me for ever! He shan’t touch him!”

  Mr. Mamble looked suspiciously at the Viscount. “Oh, so that’s the way it is, is it?” he said. “Seems to me it’s his lordship as is wanted here! I don’t hold with duelling, and I’ll be bound he don’t either, for he’s a sensible man! I’ll wager he’ll know how to handle it!”

  “Here, I say, no!” exclaimed the startled Viscount, seeing him about to go in search of Lord Lionel. “You can’t do that! Gilly!”

  “Lord or no lord,” said Mr. Mamble firmly, “I know where my duty lies!”

  The Duke pulled himself together, raising his head from his hand, and saying faintly: “You are quite mistaken, Mr. Mamble! Lord Gay
wood and I have no intention of fighting a duel. Infact, Lord Gaywood and I are shortly to become brothers!”

  Mr. Mamble still looked unconvinced, so Gideon said kindly: “Have no fear, sir! I will not let the children harm each other! They will have their little differences, you know. Pray forgive me, but should you not take Tom upstairs to brush the mud from his clothes?”

  “Ay, that I will do!” said Mr. Mamble, seizing Tom by the lobe of one ear, and leading him forth.

  “For God’s sake, Gilly!” said the Viscount, momentarily forgetful of the point at issue, “where did you pick up that fellow?” He recollected himself, and tried to whip up his dying wrath. “Not that I care for that!” he said hastily. “When we were interrupted, my lord Duke—”

  “Oh, Charlie, don’t start calling me my lord Duke again!” begged the Duke. “You will set me off laughing once more, and my ribs are aching! Do stop making such a cake of yourself! You know very well that by tomorrow you will be thanking God you are so well out of a scrape! You have no notion what a tiresome girl Belinda is!”

  “Oh, haven’t I?” retorted the Viscount. “Let me tell you that she made me go all the way to Milsom Street for a gown all over gold beads, and of the most shocking colour you ever laid eyes on! But I don’t mind that! Damme, I never saw a lovelier creature in my life! But that was a dog’s trick you served me, Gilly! To send me off after a damned chaise with an old harridan in it, and her pug-dog—”

  The Duke gave a little crow of joy. “Oh, no, Charlie, was it indeed an old harridan? If only I might have seen you! But it was none of my doing, I swear! My peerless Thomas planned and executed the whole!”

  “I wish I’d choked the brat!” said his lordship. “Oh, yes, it’s very well for you to laugh, but it is a great deal too bad, and here am I with this damned purple gown on my hands, besides all else!” He glanced round as the door opened to admit his sister, and blinked. “Good God, how came you here, Harry?”

  “Gilly brought me,” she replied. “Charlie, I do not like to be cross and scolding, but I am quite vexed with you! How could you behave so? It was too bad of you!”