The Wicked Marquis

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

  CHAPTER XI

  The Marquis was occupied for several minutes in exchanging greetingswith passing acquaintances. As soon as they were alone again, hereverted to his companion's observation.

  "There was a matter, I think you said, Mr. Thain, which you wished todiscuss with me."

  "I was going to ask you about Broomleys," David replied.

  The Marquis was puzzled.

  "Broomleys? Are you referring, by chance, to my house of that name?"

  "I guess so."

  "But, my dear Mr. Thain, you surprise me," the Marquis declared. "Whendid you hear of Broomleys?"

  "I should have explained," David continued, "that I spent this lastweek-end at Cromer. There I visited an agent and told him that I wouldlike to take a furnished house in the neighbourhood. I motored over,at his suggestion, to see Broomleys, and the tenant, Colonel Laycey,kindly showed me over. He is leaving within a few days, I believe."

  "Dear me, of course he is!" the Marquis observed genially. "I hadquite forgotten the fact--quite forgotten it."

  The Marquis saluted more acquaintances. He was glad of an opportunityfor reflection. The Fates were indeed smiling upon him! A gleam ofanticipatory delight shone in his eyes as he thought of his nextinterview with Mr. Wadham, Junior! On his desk at the present momentthere lay a letter from the firm, announcing Colonel Laycey's departureand adding that they saw little hope of letting the house at all in itspresent condition.

  "It would be a great pleasure to us, Mr. Thain," the Marquis continuedpleasantly, "to have you for a neighbour. Did the agent or ColonelLaycey, by-the-by, say anything about the rent?"

  "Nothing whatever," David replied. "The Colonel pointed out to mevarious repairs which certainly seemed necessary, but as I am a singleman, the rooms affected could very well be closed for a time. It wasthe garden, I must confess, which chiefly attracted me."

  "Broomleys has, I fear, been a little neglected," the Marquis sighed."These stringent days, with their campaign of taxation upon the landedproprietor, have left me, I regret to say, a poor man. Colonel Layceywas not always considerate. His last letter, I remember, spoke ofrestorations which would have meant a couple of years' rent."

  "If I find any little thing wants doing urgently when I get there,"David promised carelessly, "I will have it seen to myself. If the rentyou ask is not prohibitive, it is exactly the place I should like totake for, say, a year, at any rate."

  "You are a man of modest tastes, Mr. Thain," the Marquis observed."The fact that you are unmarried, however, of course renders anestablishment an unnecessary burden. You will bear in mind, so far asregards the rent of Broomleys, Mr. Thain, that the house is furnished."

  "Very uncomfortably but very attractively furnished, from what I saw,"David assented.

  The Marquis collected himself. Colonel Laycey had been asked threehundred a year and was paying two hundred, a sum which, somehow orother, the Marquis had always considered his own pocket money, andwhich had never gone into the estate accounts. A little increase wouldcertainly be pleasant.

  "Would five hundred a year seem too much, Mr. Thain?" he asked. "Icannot for the moment remember what Colonel Laycey is paying, but Iknow that it is something ridiculously inadequate."

  "Five hundred a year would be quite satisfactory," David agreed.

  "I will have the papers drawn up and sent to you at once," the Marquispromised. "You will be able to enter into possession as soon as youlike. You would like a yearly tenancy, I presume?"

  "That would suit me quite well."

  "You will be able, also, to resume your acquaintance with that singularold man whom you met upon the steamer--Richard Vont," the Marquisremarked, with a slight grimace. "I hear that he is in residencethere."

  "I have already done so," David announced.

  The Marquis raised his eyebrows.

  "You have probably heard his story, then, from his own lips," heobserved carelessly. "I am told that he sits out on the lawn of hiscottage, reading the Bible and cursing Mandeleys. It is a mostannoying thing, Mr. Thain, as I dare say you can understand, to haveyour ex-gamekeeper entrenched, as it were, in front of your premises,hurling curses across the moat at you. That class of person is sotenacious of ideas as well as of life. Here comes my daughter Letitia,already well escorted, I see."

  Letitia, with Grantham by her side, waved her hand without pausing,from the other side of the broad pathway. David for a moment felt thechill of the east wind.

  "Grantham," the Marquis told his companion confidentially, "is one ofLady Letitia's most constant admirers. My daughter, as I dare say youhave discovered, Mr. Thain, is rather an unusual young woman. Herpredilections are almost anti-matrimonial. Still, I must confess thatan alliance with the Granthams would give me much pleasure. I should,in that case, be enabled to give up my town house and be content withbachelor apartments--a great saving, in these hard times."

  "Naturally," David murmured.

  "Often, in the course of our very agreeable conversations," the Marquiswent on, "I am inclined to ignore the fact of your most amazingopulence. My few friends, I am sorry to say, are in a differentposition. Money in this country is very scarce, Mr. Thain--veryscarce, at least, on this side of Temple Bar."

  David answered a little vaguely. His eyes were lifted above the headsof the scattered crowd of people through which they were passing.

  "May I ask--if it is not an impertinence," he said,--"is Lady Letitiaengaged to Lord Charles Grantham?"

  The Marquis's manner was perhaps a shade stiffer. Mr. Thain was justgiven to understand that about the family matters of such a personageas the Marquis of Mandeleys there must always be a certain reticence.

  "There is no formal engagement, Mr. Thain," he replied. "The fashionnowadays seems to preclude anything of the sort. One's daughter justbrings a young man in, and, in place of the delightful betrothal of ouryounger days, the date for the marriage is fixed upon the spot."

  Luncheon at 94 Grosvenor Square, notwithstanding the cocktails, was anexceedingly simple meal, a fact which the Marquis himself seemedscarcely to notice. He kept his eye on his visitor's plate, however,and passed the cutlets with an unnoticeable sigh of regret.

  "Charlie wouldn't come in to lunch, father," Letitia announced. "Ithink he was afraid you were going to ask him his intentions."

  The Marquis glanced at the modicum of curry with which he was consolinghimself.

  "Upon the whole, my dear," he said, "I am glad that he stayed away. Heis a most agreeable person, but not at his best at luncheon time.By-the-by, do you know who our new neighbour is to be at Broomleys?"

  "You haven't let it?" she asked eagerly.

  "This morning, my dear," her father replied, bowing slightly towardstheir guest. "Mr. Thain has been spending the week-end at Cromer, wasoffered Broomleys by the agent there, and he and I fixed up the matteronly a few minutes ago."

  "How perfectly delightful!" Letitia exclaimed.

  David glanced up quickly. He looked his hostess in the eyes.

  "That is very kind of you, Lady Letitia," he said. She laughed at him.

  "Well, I meant it," she declared, "and I still mean it, but not,perhaps, exactly in the way it sounded. Of course, it will be verypleasant to have you for a neighbour, but to tell you the truth--yousee, although we're poor we are honest--our own sojourn at Mandeleysrather depends on whether we let Broomleys, and Colonel Laycey,although he has the most delightful daughter, with whom you are sure tofall in love, was a most troublesome tenant. He was always wantingthings done, wasn't he, father?"

  "It is certainly a relief," the Marquis sighed, watching withsatisfaction the arrival of half a Stilton cheese, a present from hisson-in-law, "a great relief to find a tenant like Mr. Thain."

  "I asked your agent," David remarked a little diffidently, "about theshooting."

  The Marquis touched his glass.

  "Serve port, Gossett," he directed,--"the light wood port, if we haveany," he added a little
hastily, to the obvious relief of his domestic."The shooting, eh, Mr. Thain?"

  He sipped his wine and considered. First Broomleys, and then theshooting! The gods were very kind to him on this pleasant Aprilmorning.

  "You haven't preserved lately, I understand," his guest observed.

  "Not for some years," the Marquis acknowledged.

  "I don't mind about that at all," David went on. "I am just Americanenough, you know, to find no pleasure in shooting tame birds. I shallhave no parties, and I shall not be ambitious about bags. I like toprowl about myself with a gun."

  His host nodded appreciatively.

  "You shall have the refusal of the shooting," he promised. "At themoment I am not prepared to quote terms. My people of business can dothat."

  "Have you no friends in England, Mr. Thain?" Letitia asked, a littleabruptly.

  "Very few," David replied. "I do not make friends easily."

  "I always thought Americans were so sociable," she remarked. "A greatmany of your compatriots have settled down here, you know."

  David considered the matter for a moment.

  "You would smile, I suppose," he said, "if I were to tell you thatthere are more so-called 'sets' in American Society than in your own.I am a very self-made man indeed, and I possess no womenkind toentertain for me. I am therefore dependent upon chance acquaintances."

  "Such friends as may make your sojourn in Norfolk more agreeable, Mr.Thain," the Marquis promised genially, "you shall most certainly find.Mandeleys will always be open to you."

  David made no immediate response. His teeth had come together with alittle click. He felt a strange repugnance to lifting the glass, whichthe butler had just filled, to his lips. A queer little vision ofMandeleys and the cottage was there, Richard Vont, seated amongst thosedrooping rose bushes, his face turned towards the Abbey, his eyes fullof that strange, expectant light. A sudden wave of self-disgust almostbroke through a composure which had so far resisted all assaults uponit. Almost he felt that he must rise from his place, tell thisstrange, polished, yet curiously childlike being the truth--that he wasbeing drawn into the nets of ruin--that he was entertaining an enemyunawares.

  "You must really try that wine, Mr. Thain," he heard his host saygently. "I make no excuse for not offering you vintage port. AtMandeleys I have at least the remnants of a cellar. You shall dinewith us there, Mr. Thain, and I will give you what my grandfather usedto declare was 1838 vintage."

  David roused himself with an effort. He brushed aside theuncomfortable twinge of conscience which had suddenly depressed him,and turning away from Letitia, looked his host in the eyes.

  "You are very kind," he said. "I shall come with much pleasure."