Faro's Daughter Page 13

  together the other night.'

  `Did I? I had forgotten.'

  Silence fell. Ormskirk's eyes were veiled; one of his white hands rhythmically swung his quizzing-glass to and fro on the end of its ribbon. Mr Ravenscar went on shuffling the cards.

  `I have a handful of Lady Bellingham's bills,' his lordship said at last. `Candour, however, compels me to say that they would not fetch quite their face-value in the market.' `And that is?'

  'Fifteen hundred,' said his lordship.

  `I am ready to buy them from you at that figure.'

  Ormskirk put up his quizzing-glass. `So!' he said. `But I do not think I wish to sell, my dear Ravenscar.' `You had much better do so, however.' `Indeed! May I know why?'

  `Put brutally, my lord, since your sense of propriety is too nice to allow of your using these bills to obtain your ends, it will be convenient to you, I imagine, to put them into my hands. I shall use them to extricate my cousin from his entanglement. Once that is accomplished, I cannot suppose that Miss Grantham will continue to reject your offer.'

  `There is much in what you say,' acknowledged his lordship. `And yet, my dear Ravenscar, and yet I am loath to part with them!'

  `Then let us say good night,' Ravenscar replied, rising to his feet.

  Ormskirk hesitated, looking at the scattered cards on the table. He was a gambler to the heart's core, and it irked him unbearably to end the night thus. Ill-luck could not last for ever; it might be that it was already on the turn: indeed, he had held appreciably better cards in that last hand, as Ravenscar had noticed. He hated having to acknowledge Ravenscar to be his superior, too. He could conceive of few things more pleasing than to reverse their present positions. It might well be within his power to do so. He raised his hand. `Wait! After all, why not?' He got up, picked up one of the branches of candles, and carried it over to his writing-table at the end of the room. Setting it down there, he felt in his pocket for a key, and unlocked one of the drawers in the table, and pulled it out. He lifted a slim bundle of papers out, and brought it back to the table, tossing it down on top of the spilled cards. `There you are,' he said. `How fortunate it is that you are less squeamish than I!’

  Ravenscar picked up the papers, and slipped them into the wide pocket of his coat. 'Very fortunate,' he agreed. `You are fifteen hundred pounds in hand, my lord. Do you care to continue the game?'

  Ormskirk raised his brows mockingly. `Had you not better count them? You will find there are six in all, for varying sums.'

  `I'll take your word for it,' replied Ravenscar. `Shall u continue?’

  `By all means!’ Ormskirk said, and sat down again. `We m~ find that this - ah, transaction - has changed my luck.'

  `We may,' agreed Ravenscar, cutting the cards towards him.

  It seemed, in the next rubber, that the luck had indeed veered in his lordship's favour. He played cautiously for while, grew bolder presently, won a little, lost a large rubber refilled his glass, and allowed all other considerations than the overmastering desire to get the better of Ravenscar too far from his mind. As the fumes of the brandy mounted to h brain, not clouding it, but exciting him, he ceased to keen an eye on the sum of his losses.

  It was three o'clock when Ravenscar said: `It is growing late. I make it four thousand, my lord.'

  `Four thousand,' Ormskirk repeated blankly. He looked ; Ravenscar, not seeing him, wondering which of his horses I would be obliged to sell, knowing if he sold all he would be unable to extricate himself from his embarrassment Mechanically he opened his delicate Sevres snuff box, and too a pinch. `You will have to give me time,' he said, hating the need to speak these words.

  `Certainly,' Ravenscar replied. One of the candles w~ guttering; he snuffed it. `Or you might prefer to let me purchase from you the mortgage on Lady. Bellingham's house,' he said coolly.

  Ormskirk stared at him for a moment. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. He said with an edge to his smooth voice `What's your object, Ravenscar?'

  `I have told you.'

  `The mortgage is for five thousand: it may be worth some thing over four.'

  `We need not haggle over the figure, I suppose. I will give you five thousand for it.'

  `You would appear to cherish an unusual degree of affection for your young relative,' Ormskirk said, his lips curling in faint sneer.

  Ravenscar shrugged. `The boy is in some sort my responsibility.'

  `It is gratifying to meet with such a sense of duty in these days. Yet it seems to me that you are paying high for hi salvation, my dear Ravenscar!’

  `You are mistaken: I am acting for Lady Mablethorpe.'

  `Do you know,' said Ormskirk softly, `I have the oddest idea in my head? I cannot rid myself of the notion that you have some other motive in acquiring this hold over Deb Grantham.'

  `It is not love, if that is what you mean, my lord.' `Indeed? Then what may it be?'

  A smile flickered in Ravenscar's eyes. 'A strong dislike of being worsted in a fight.'

  Ormskirk regarded him fixedly for a few moments, tapping the lid of his snuff box with one polished finger-nail. A short laugh broke from him; he rose from his chair, and once more trod over to his writing-table. `After all, why not?' he said, with one of his airy gestures. He pulled open the drawer, took from it a folded document, and tossed it to his guest. `Take it! You have it all now, have you not? I suppose you meant to have it from the start. Do not think me unkind if I say that I hope she worsts you again, my dear Ravenscar: it would do you so much good!'

  CHAPTER 9

  Miss Laxton's letter having been delivered to her parents through the medium of the post, she had nothing to do but to await events, not omitting, of course, to scan the advertisement columns of the Morning Post. No intimation of surrender on her father's part made its appearance there immediately, but this, Miss Grantham pointed out, was not surprising, as no doubt the Laxtons would first prosecute inquiries amongst their acquaintances. She was able to report, on the evening following Miss Laxton's escape, that Sir James Filey was playing faro in the Yellow Saloon, and seemed to be in the devil's own temper. Miss Laxton, curled up with an exciting novel from the lending library in Lady Bellingham s boudoir, giggled, and said she did not care a button, and only wished that she could remain in St James's Square

  for the rest of her life. Possibly out of regard for her aunt's quite different wishes, Miss Grantham took what steps she could to prevent this from coming to pass by descending again to the saloons, and suggesting softly to Lord Mablethorpe that he might go upstairs to sit with the poor child for a while, to save her from dying of boredom. His lordship was perfectly ready to obey this, or any other behest, and slipped away presently, to spend a comfortable hour playing at cribbage with Phoebe. In between games he extolled Deborah's virtues to Miss Laxton and Miss Laxton agreed with him that she was wonderful woman, and said that she was not at all surprised at his being determined to make her his wife. She was quite shocked to hear from him of his mother's opposition, and in general showed herself to be so sympathetic that his lordship found himself confiding far more to her than he had meant to. Where the conversation veered towards Miss Laxton's future, he found his part in it more difficult to sustain, for he could not think what was to be done if her parents remained obdurate He was firm, however, on three points: on no account must Phoebe marry Sir James, apply for a post as governess, to tread the boards. Phoebe said that if he thought it wrong of her to become an actress or a governess, she would not do it; because she knew well that he was more worldly-wise than she and she meant to be guided by his judgement. His lordship was conscious of a strong conviction that some well-disposed person ought to take Miss Laxton under his wing, and protect her from the buffets of the world, but try as he would he was unable to thing of anyone who would be at all suitable to fill the post. He made up his mind to consult Deborah on this point. Meanwhile, he assured Phoebe that while he remained in some part responsible for her well-being she had nothing to fear from Filey, or, indeed, from anyo
ne else. Miss Laxton, looking up into his face with dewy eyes, said simply that she knew she was safe with him, had known it from the first moment of seeing him.

  It was not to be expected that Lord and Lady Laxton would advertise their loss to the world, and as Deborah did not move in their circle she had no means of learning what their emotions might be upon receipt of their daughter's politely worded ultimatum. Lady Mablethorpe was acquainted with the family, but a few casual questions put to her by her son merely elicited the information that she had always considered Augusta Laxton to be an odious woman, with an overbearing nature, and grasping ways, and that how she hoped to marry a pack of girls respectably was a mystery to everyone. Asked if she were in the habit of visiting the Laxton establishment, she replied that she never went there unless she was obliged to.

  Lady Bellingham, although resigned, she said, to any conceivable folly on the part of her niece, wished to know what was to be done with her guest if her parents failed to insert the desired notice in the Morning Post. `For the girl cannot spend the rest of her days in hiding,' she pointed out, without the least hope of being attended to. `I am sure it must be very bad for her to walk out only at dusk, and then heavily veiled; and unless Augusta Laxton has changed since I knew her, which I cannot credit, she will very likely be glad to be rid of at least one of her brood of daughters, and not make the least push to discover her whereabouts.'

  `Well, I hope you may be right,' said Miss Grantham. 'My only fear is that she may have hired the Bow Street Runners to find Phoebe.'

  This suggestion was so appalling that Lady Bellingham sank plump into a chair. `My love, don't say such a thing! Oh dear, what have you done? Only think of the scandal if the law officers were to come to this house! We shall all be prosecuted!'

  `My dear ma'am, there is not the least likelihood of such a thing happening. No one knows of any circumstance connecting me with Phoebe, and Adrian must be quite above suspicion.'

  But the idea, once instilled into Lady Bellingham's brain, took such strong possession of it that it might well have brought on her dreaded spasms had it riot been ousted by a far more pressing threat.

  The following morning's post brought Miss Grantham a curt communication from Mr Ravenscar.

  It was handed to her as she sat at breakfast with her aunt and her protegee. She did not recognize the handwriting, which was very black and firm, and the crest on the seal was equally strange to her. She turned it over idly, broke open the seal, and spread out the single, crackling sheet of paper.

  She was eating a slice of bread-and-butter as she ran her eye down the missive, and startled her aunt by choking suddenly. She let a hasty exclamation escape her, swallowed a stray crumb, which found its way into her windpipe, and fell into helpless coughing. By the time she had been restored by having her back briskly slapped by her aunt, all the impropriety of disclosing the contents of her letter in Miss Laxton's presence had been recollected, and she sat with it in her lap throughout the rest of the meal. Lady Bellingham noticed that she was unusually silent, and saw that her eyes were smouldering and her cheeks unduly flushed. Her heart sank, for she knew these signs. `My love, I do trust you have not received some bad news?' she said nervously.

  `Bad news, ma'am?' said Miss Grantham, sitting ver5 straight in her chair. `Oh, dear me, no! Nothing of that nature!’

  Lady Bellingham's alarms were not in the least allayed by this assurance, and she sat fidgeting until Phoebe presently left the table. When the door had shut behind her, her ladyship fixed her eyes on Deborah's martial countenance, and demanded: `What is it? If I am not to be laid upon my bed with the vapours, tell me the worst at once! The Laxtons have discovered that child's whereabouts?'

  `This obliging letter,' said Deborah, looking at it with loathing, `does not come from the Laxtons. It comes from Mr Ravenscar.'

  `Never say so, my love!' cried her ladyship, reviving fast. `Well, now, this time, don't you think, dearest Deb that you should compound with him? What does he offer you?'

  `You are mistaken, ma'am; he does not offer me anything He threatens me instead!’

  'Threatens you?' exclaimed her aunt. `For heaven's sake, child, what with?'

  `Mr Ravenscar,' said Deborah, through her teeth, `beg: leave to inform me that he has acquired - acquired! - certain bills of exchange drawn by you, and a mortgage on this house.'

  `What?' almost screamed Lady Bellingham. `He can't have acquired them! Ormskirk holds them! You know he does! Ii must be a trick to frighten you!'

  `No, it isn't, and I am not in the least frightened!' said Miss Grantham indignantly. `He has got them from Ormskirk, that much is plain.'

  `I can't believe such a thing! Ormskirk would never give them up, I am persuaded!’

  `You said he was badly dipped, Aunt Lizzie,' Deborah reminded her. `If Ravenscar offered to buy them from him, I daresay he may have been glad to agree to sell them.'

  `I never heard of such treachery in my life!' declared her ladyship. `It passes everything! Besides, if he does not hold the bills any longer, what hope can Ormskirk have of persuading you, my love?'

  Miss Grantham thought this over, wrinkling her brow over the problem. `I daresay he might think he had no hope of me,' she said at last. `If he believes I am about to marry Adrian, that would be it, no doubt.'

  `I shall go distracted!' said Lady Bellingham, clasping her head in her hands, and sadly disarranging her cap. `Nothing could be worse! You have now lost them both through your tricks! I do not know how you can be so improvident, Deb, indeed I don't! You must marry Adrian at once!'

  `Nonsense! He is not of age, ma'am. Besides, I do not mean to marry him at all.'

  `No! You mean to fob him off with this Laxton child, which is so downright wasteful of you I cannot bear to think of it! But if Ravenscar holds those dreadful bills, there is nothing to be done (unless you choose to give Adrian up altogether) but to marry him secretly at once! I know you will say these Gretna marriages are not at all the thing, but it can't be helped now! Matters are desperate!'

  `I must get them into my hands,' said Deborah, who had not been paying much heed to this speech.'

  `Get what into your hands?' demanded her ladyship.

  `The bills, and the mortgage, ma'am; what else?'

  `Do you mean you will agree to give Adrian up?' asked Lady Bellingham. `I own, it may come to that, but I do think it would be better if you married him.'

  'Ravenscar and Lady Mablethorpe would have the marriage annulled if I did anything so foolish. Oh, he thinks he has me in a pretty corner, but I shall show him!'

  `No, no, don't show him anything more, Deb, I implore you!’ begged her aunt, agitated. `You see what has come of showing him things! If only you would be a little conciliating I'

  `Conciliating! I mean to fight him to the last ditch!’ said Miss Grantham. `The first thing is to get those bills away from him!’

  `You can't get them away from him,' said Lady Bellingham despairingly. `What does he say in his letter?'

  'Why, that he will be happy to restore them to me in return for his cousin's freedom! How dare he insult me so? Oh, I will never forgive him!’

  `Says he will restore them? Well, I must say, my dear, that is very handsome of him! To be sure, it is not as good as twenty thousand pounds, but it would be a great relief to be rid of some of our debts!’

  `And if I don't send Adrian about his business, he will foreclose on you,' added Miss Grantham. Lady Bellingham gave a moan. `The brute! I cannot possibly pay him! I suppose he wants me to go upon my knees to him, but I won't do it! I won't!'

  `Go on your knees to him?' cried Miss Grantham. `No indeed! I would never speak to you again if you did.'

  `Very likely no one will ever speak to me again - no one I care to speak to, at all events - for I shall be in a debtors' prison, and shall end my days there. Oh, Deb, how can you be so heartless?'

  Miss Grantham put her arms round the afflicted matron. `I'm not heartless, dearest, indeed I'm not, and you sha
n't be put into any prison! It is not you that hateful man wishes to punish, but me! He thinks to frighten me, but I have still a trick or two up my sleeve, and so he shall find! I'll get those bills back, and won't give Adrian up - at least, I will really, but Ravenscar shall not know of it until he owns himself beaten - and -'

  `Don't!' begged her aunt. `I cannot bear it! Nothing will do for you but to ruin us all, and that is the matter in a nutshell! And I do think Ravenscar must be the most disagreeable man in the world, besides the oddest-behaved! If he means to foreclose, why doesn't he tell me so? I am sure it is not your business!’

  'Oh, he wrote to me because I made him so angry that he wants to punish me! I am sure he has no quarrel at all with you, aunt, so pray do not put yourself in a taking! This is all wicked spite! But I will teach him a lesson!'

  Since no arguments of hers seemed likely to prevail against this determination, Lady Bellingham gave up any attempt to induce her niece to see reason, and tottered away to spend a melancholy morning trying to discover an error in her dressmaker's bill, and to convince Mortimer that the stubs of the candles used in the saloons could quite well be lit again for kitchen purposes. As she succeeded in neither of these objects, her spirits underwent no change for the better, and might indeed have borne her down utterly had she been privileged to know what her niece was planning to do. This knowledge, however, was prudently kept from her, so that she was able to go out for her usual drive in the Park in ignorance of the events which were brewing above her unfortunate head.

  For quite some time, Miss Grantham was, unable to think of an adequate counter to Mr Ravenscar's last move. It really seemed to be unanswerable, but she was by this time so determined to fight him that the idea of surrender never entered her head. The time for signifying to him that she had not the least intention of marrying his cousin would come only when he was beaten out of every position. Miss Grantham would then be able to derive great satisfaction from her magnanimity. To give way to bribes or threats would be so spiritless a course that she naturally could not entertain it for a moment.