The Riddle of the Lost Lover (15 page)

She looked very small and frail in the great fireside chair, but he knew better than to judge her anything but formidable. She wrung her claw-like hands absently, and gazed at Corporal who lay on the rug.

“Why do you allow that he plays with that silly doll?” she demanded. “Is not the proper toy for a boy dog.”

“I bought it for Molly Hawes, but he found it, and—”

“You mean he stole it. You should have beaten him.”

He said meekly, “I thought I'd leave that to you, ma'am.”

She gave him a sharp look and seeing the twinkle in his eyes, advised him that he need not think to bring her around his thumb with his flirty ways, adding, “Consuela you have telling all these things?”

“No, ma'am.”

“Why? It might have won you the advantages.”

“And had I told her without your approval I'd have been dealt a thundering scold—and deserved it, eh, my lady?”

She smiled suddenly, and patted his knee. “You are the honourable gentleman, and with honour you play the game. What do you mean to do?”

“Are you satisfied with my— I mean, would you think me more acceptable if Lord Kincraig is my father?”

“Acceptable, is it? Ha!” She threw up her hands and demanded, “What is this choosings you now offer me? My great-grandsons they must have fine men in the family to look up to. And what shall they look up to in either a grandpapa who was a murderous black-hearted villain; or an aristocrat with the bent brain, the mad wife and the half-mad son, and who wastes the life the Good God give him by roaming about seeking flying carpets!
Le gioia e della vita
!”

Vespa reddened. “I believe that remark had to do with joy, my lady?”

“Si.”
She said in a gentler tone, “And me I am being the cynical, which is rude. Very well, you say you love my little Consuela. If I leave this decision in your hands, you would now with happiness make the offer for her—yes?”

He frowned, then said resignedly, “No. Had I been able to question the Lambent Grove butler privately, as I'd hoped, I might have sufficient information, but Duncan Keith took a sudden whim to leave for Scotland that very afternoon. So I still lack many of the answers I need. I must find Lord Kincraig, and see for myself what kind of man he is, and whether he will acknowledge me.”

“Ah! This is good and I know you would doing it. Now—you really think he is in France?”

“I think that is where I must commence my search.”

She gave a derisive snort. “Madness! What have the handsome tailor's delight he say to this?”

“Manderville? Oh, he's dead set against it. Says I could never hope to find his lordship. But we traced him to Suffolk, in spite of all the gloom-merchants.” His jaw set. He said a vehement, “I'll find him!”

“Jack!” Consuela hurried into the room, her eyes alight, and hands outstretched to him. She still wore her cloak, and the wind had tumbled her curls and brought roses into her cheeks.

Vespa's heart gave its customary lurch, and he sprang up and took her cold little hands eagerly.

“Oh, but I did not know you had come home,” she cried, searching his face. “You must stay to dinner, must he not, Grandmama? Is Paige here also? What news have you?”

“Sit down and your gabbling stop,” commanded the duchess testily. “And you may sit next to my granddaughter, Captain, if you will be propriety.”

Consuela allowed Vespa to take her cloak. Briefly, his strong hands tightened on her shoulders. She looked up, her sparkling eyes meeting his ardent ones.

Lady Francesca snapped, “No fondlings, no fondlings!”

They sat dutifully on the sofa, side by side and a little distance apart.

“I am so anxious to know,” said Consuela eagerly. “What have you discovered, Jack?”

He glanced at Lady Francesca.

“He has lost Lieutenant Paige, who have gone wandering off about his own businesses,” imparted the duchess. “And he have find this man he thinks may be his sire. Who is mad.”

“Oh, never say so!” Aghast, Consuela gripped her hands tightly. “Are you sure? Who is he? Where is he? Have you met him, Jack?”

“He is Lord Blair Kincraig, and I haven't met him—yet. But—”

“How can he be meeting him when this lordling is gone to France? Which proves he is mad.”

Dismayed, Consuela said, “To
France?
What on earth…?”

Vespa smiled at her. “He is, I believe, eccentric. Nothing more.”

“Hah!” said Lady Francesca. “Only that he hunts two carpets,
bambina.
One that fly like the bird; and the other made of jewels that was cut up more than a thousand years since! Eccentric, you say? Hah!”

Intrigued, Consuela demanded the whole story and listened raptly while Vespa told her of the Spring Carpet of Khusraw, and of his visit to Lambent Grove. “Good gracious,” she said, when he came to the end of his account. “Lord Kincraig does sound a—a rather odd gentleman. Whatever do you mean to do now?”

“What would you suppose?” interposed the Duchess. “Our Captain John Vespa he follow this mad father to France, which it show the madness he has inhibited!”

“Inherited, dearest,” corrected Consuela. “And, of course you cannot even think of going, Jack.”

Her proprietary air warmed his heart. He said, “I must, but—”

“We will
not
hold the hands,” warned the duchess.

Sighing, Vespa snatched his hand back. “My apologies. And I
must
go, Consuela. Heaven only knows how long it may be before he returns to England.”

“I had sooner you wait than have you go to France and be shot as a spy!”

“Very right, and we will speak no more of foolishnesses,” agreed Lady Francesca. “Now, Consuela has something to tell us, that she keep the big secret. Speak up, meadowlark.”

Consuela said eagerly, “Oh, yes. I have wanted to tell you, Jack. I met an—er, admirer yesterday, who—”

Vespa stiffened. “Has that confounded colonel been slithering around you again?”

“Languages!”
shrilled the duchess, clapping her hands over her ears.

Vespa apologized for his lapse, and Consuela said with a trace of annoyance, “La, sir, do you fancy I have but the one admirer?”

Hastings Adair was the rival Vespa most feared and his wrath cooled a little. “I can visualize regular armies of 'em,” he acknowledged. “Nor could I blame the poor fellows.”

“Why ‘poor'? Perhaps you think their choice is ill-considered? I'll have you know—”

“Come down from the boughs,
Signorina
Consuela Carlotta Angelica Jones! Tell me about this latest of your beaux.”

She was always amused when he reeled off her complete name, but although she smiled, there was a look at the back of her eyes that disturbed him. His unease grew while she told of the strange man who had questioned her on the estate road, and at the end a cold fear gripped him.

Horrified, the duchess exclaimed, “Foolish,
foolish
child! You should have tell me this at once! Do you knowing these mens, Captain Jack?”

He frowned. “I hope I don't, but you'll remember I spoke of the very powerful fellow who tossed Hastings Adair about when we were attacked in Town. Toby thinks their descriptions would fit a fanatical Swiss art collector named Monteil. He has a very large Chinese servant, and a decidedly ugly reputation.”

“If this it is so, then these are very dangerous peoples,” said the duchess, wringing her hands agitatedly. “And now they make the threats on my meadowlark?
Dio ce ni scampi e liberi!
”

“That means ‘God forbid,' Jack,” translated Consuela.

“Amen,” he said fervently. “But our prayers would not be necessary had you not seen fit to tease them.”

Consuela had been eager to share what she had found out, and she gave a gesture of exasperation. “Oh! Is that the thanks I get? If it is not typical of a man to never give a lady credit where it is due! It does not occur to you that I was all alone when they came up behind me, and yet—”

“My God, but it occurs to me! You will persist in—”

“—and yet I managed to convince them I was a villager and—”

“If you had Manning with you, child, there would not have been the need to convince them of anythings,” put in the old lady, her eyes glinting with a mixture of alarm and vexation. “Ah,
San Pietro!
”

“Saint Peter was likely helping me,
Donna,
for I'd almost succeeded in sending them off in the wrong direction. If that silly Manning had not come wailing up and spoilt everything—”

The picture of what might have happened if Manning had not come, made Vespa break out in a cold sweat. “You might have got your pretty neck wrung!” he said harshly. “I'll not have you taking such chances, Miss Independence! It is as unwise as it is improper for—”

“
You
will not?” She sprang up in a flame. “What right have you to censure me, John Wansdyke Vespa? We are not betrothed—nor ever like to be if this is how you bully and browbeat a lady!”

His own cheeks flushed, Vespa stood and faced her. “A lady does not wander unescorted about the countryside, inviting the attentions of any womanizing makebait who chances her way, as—”

“In—
inviting? Oooh!
How—”

“—as I've told you before, ma'am. No! Be still! It is one thing, and a very dear thing, for you to want to help, but quite another to deliberately make mock of a man who you admit alarmed you.”

She said with a rebellious little pout, “He was insulting, and deserved a set-down!”

“And you gladly administered one, did you not? The truth is that you plunged recklessly into another of your jolly adventures.” He checked. She was angry now, and she had meant well, and was so young and sweet and innocent, and he loved her so much. His tone softened. “There are men, Consuela, with whom one dares not play games! Who are far less civilized than the deadliest jungle serpents. I'd hoped you had learned that lesson.”

“From whom?” she riposted furiously. “Your father? How
frightfully
disappointing for you that I am such a widgeon as to try to be of assistance! Only think, Captain, you almost offered for a girl who is as—as stupid as she is
improper!
”

“That—will—do!” Lady Francesca's voice was ice.

Feeling beset on every side, Consuela half-sobbed, “You are as—as bad as he is! You both think I am a silly child, but I am
not!
I try to help. I
have
helped, but for all the appreciation I get, I had as well not bother!”

“What you had as well to do is go to your room, at once,
signorina!
I do not wish to be seeing your face again this day!”

Blinded by tears, Consuela was already running for the door.

The duchess turned to Vespa, who was as pale as he had before been flushed. “You will please not to heed her, Captain Jack. When she is angry—well, you know she do not always mean what she sayings.” She shrugged expressively. “She is Italian.”

He took a steadying breath. “And as she said, I had no right to censure her.” He sat down wearily. “But—Lord, ma'am! She's as brave as she can stare, and so fearless there's no telling what she'll do next. Hastings Adair warned me that my enquiries concerning the—the rug fancier had been noted. Heaven knows I never dreamed I would involve Consuela with a man of Monteil's stamp! I'd sooner die than put her in danger!”

“She is a proud lady, and the Swiss man he was a rudesby. But I cannot really think he would harm her only because she have chastize him.”

Vespa said gravely, “It's more than that, my lady. In Town I thought they were after Adair, but now here they come, very obviously seeking Lord Kincraig. They must know I also am searching for him, and now Consuela has tried to send them off on a wild-goose chase. I've no wish to alarm you, and I hope I am borrowing trouble, but you must be aware of the business—just in case.”

“I
am
alarmed! Which it is as well. We should not keep the secrets, you and I. Is best to be prepared. Perhaps I need this man you set to guard us when those bad men steal our paintings?”

“Cobham. Yes, he's a good man. I'll hire him before I leave.” Vespa ran a hand through his hair distractedly. “How
can
I leave? If I'm not here to protect her, she'll run herself into danger, sure as check! Almost, I wish her wretched colonel
was
slithering about!”

“Perhaps I should take her in to Town. Better yet—take her back to Italy!” The duchess was briefly silent, pondering. Then she exclaimed, “
Mama mia!
Now have I not the fine notion to which you must give your ears! If you follow your mad lordling you will surely be caught, for you have much too fair the hair and skins to pass for a Frenchman. Me, I am Italian, and a duchess. My name, my family, they are known and respectful. My wanting for many years has been to take Consuela to meet her relations in Italy. Now, who is to notice if while travelling across France I have on my coach a footman who does not speak—or do you have the French?”

Answering her in that language, Vespa exclaimed, “By heaven, you're as reckless as she is!” Reverting to English, he declared vehemently, “If you imagine that for one instant I would allow you, or Consuela, to accompany—”

At her most regal, the duchess came to her feet and interrupted, “Again, you have overstepping yourself, Captain John Vespa! Francesca Celestina, Duchess of Ottavio, is not spoke to in such a ways! You may apologize.”

Standing also, Vespa faced her and said quietly, “I have the greatest respect for you, my lady, but I think you have not considered. I am a British officer. If I should be caught, out of uniform, in enemy territory, I would be tortured and eventually shot as a spy. If I was lucky, it would be over quickly. Forgive that I must speak of such things. But if you and Consuela were in my company, you both would merit the same fate, or worse. No, pray do not tell me of the fine French gentlemen you know who would never resort to such barbarism. I also have friends in France whom I value highly. But we are at war, ma'am, and although the war seems far away to most people in England, I promise you that suspected spies, male or female, are shown no mercy by either side.
No,
Lady Francesca! You are a very dear and brave woman, but—I'll have none of it!”