Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 06] - The Noblest Frailty (23 page)

As an amused Tyndale closed the door behind them, Devenish
turned to find the General's fascinated gaze upon his hands.

"Be dashed if I ever noticed it," said Sir Andrew. "Let us
have a look—poor fellow."

The clouds had lightened, but a brisk wind blew Yolande's
pelisse and tumbled her hair as she leaned against the paddock fence,
watching Josie romp happily with the two-week old filly. She could
scarcely wait to see Devenish and hear the rest of his adventures. From
what she had heard, Tyndale had been quite brutally beaten. Her heart
turned over as a picture of his pale bruised face came into her mind's
eye. Whatever must he think of England, being so newly arrived and so
savagely dealt with? But, he was not newly arrived, of course. He was a
major, and had survived the terrible Battle of Waterloo. She thought
with a sudden surge of irritation, "Oh, how I wish they had not come
here! I wish Dev had not brought Craig!" But in the next breath she was
wishing that Devenish would hurry to her.

The child did not look so scared any more, poor mite. And they
would soon find some decent clothes for her. That awful dress! How
could those two great moonlings have thought it became her? It was at
least three sizes too large, and that hideous red-and-white check was
downright ghastly! Already Peattie and Sullivan were quarreling happily
over an ell of cambric and several pattern cards, and if she knew those
two redoubtable women, their nimble fingers would have fashioned a far
more attractive frock for the little girl by morning.

"Here you are, my delight!"

She jumped and, relieved to see that Devenish was alone,
reached out both hands in welcome.

Devenish took them strongly and kissed each. "Lord, but I've
missed you!" he said with unusual fervour. "Are you ready to go home
yet?"

"I just arrived, silly boy," she laughed. "And you have no
business to have come!"

Deliberately misinterpreting, he said a blithe, "Oh, I slipped
away as soon as I could in good conscience do so. Luckily, Tyndale's
taken your grandfather's fancy, and they're jawing like a couple of old
campaigners." His merry eyes slipped past her. "Josie found a friend, I
see. Gad! What a fine filly! Who's the dam? Is she—"

"Never mind the filly, sir," said Yolande, trying to look
stern, while thinking how hopeless a case he was to take it for granted
so breezily that they had nothing more important to discuss than that
Molly-My-Lass had dropped her foal. The marks of combat were very
evident upon his classic countenance and, touching his perfectly
straight, slim nose, she murmured, "It never ceases to amaze me that
through your many battles you've managed to keep this article from
being broken."

"Tactics," he asserted, seizing her finger and kissing it. "I
was born to be a general, but the Horse Guards lacked the sense to snap
me up."

Despite his light manner, she thought he looked tired and said
gently, "Poor Dev. What a dreadful time you have had." And then,
teasing him, "Are you quite sure it is not all a hum designed to cover
up the fact that you and Craig fought all the way up here?"

"You're not so far out, at that," he chuckled, reluctantly
relinquishing her hand. "Though not one another. We've both— more or
less… er, taken vows not to—to come to blows. Ever." As always when he
was in earnest, he stumbled and flushed, and darted a self-conscious
glance at her. "Curst n-nuisance, ain't it?"

"Indeed not! I think it splendid! And splendid that you
rescued the child. Did you ride Miss Farthing all the way up here?"

"Oh, no. She and Lazzy grow fat in St. Albans. I fancy we will
have a very large reckoning at the posting house."

Dismayed, she cried, "But—Dev! Your horses were taken from
there. Did not you and Craig call for them?"

"Devil we did! What d'you mean—taken?"

"Well—oh, heavens! We all thought— Oh, you never think they
were stolen? Craig thinks the world of that queer animal of his, and
Miss—"

"That slippery rogue!" raged Devenish. "I'll call him out, by
God! Where is he? Not too far from you, I'll warrant!"

"What? Who? If you mean Craig—"

"Not Craig, m'dear! Not this time!"

"Then— Dev, do you
know
who is
responsible for these dreadful things?"

"Assuredly! Your gallant, conciliating escort! And as for—"

She stiffened and stepped back a pace. "
James… Garvey
?"
she whispered, staring at him incredulously. "Oh, but… you cannot be
serious?"

"Oh, can I not!"

"Then you must be all about in your head! No, really—you allow
jealousy to go too far. My aunt and I—"

"Were properly gammoned," he rasped, flaming with wrath over
the loss of his beloved mare.

"I was not 'gammoned,' as you so crudely put it," she declared
angrily. "I am truly sorry you were set upon, but since you were last
seen in the tap you were probably very well to live, and—"

"Well, if that don't beat the Dutch! Here I've been lured into
an ambush, drugged, robbed, tossed into a ditch and left to wander over
half England with not so much as a groat in my pockets. And every
moment half out of my wits with worry for you! And you meanwhile, allow
that treacherous scoundrel to—"

Her chin lifting haughtily, Yolande countered, "Since you are
so sure Mr. Garvey is a treacherous scoundrel, one must presume he
introduced himself before clapping the drugged rag over your face."

"No, he did not," he fumed. "Nor did he hand Tyndale his
calling card before breaking his head! But that don't mean he wasn't
behind everything! And if you was half as shrewd a judge of character
as—"

"Then dare I ask, O infallible judge, upon what—save your
despicable suspicions—you base this wicked slander?"

Devenish marched closer, grabbed her shoulders, and held her
firm despite her struggles. "My opinion, ma'am, is based not upon
suspicions, but upon something that happened whilst I was in Dinan last
autumn."

Shock came into her eyes, and her struggles ceased abruptly.
Any lover with an ounce of wisdom in the ways of women would have
allowed those ominous words to sink in. Devenish, however, was as
inexperienced in courtship as he was swift in temper, and swept on
disastrously. "And furthermore, I have every right to be both concerned
and jealous as bedamned over you! As soon as you stop playing off your
coquettish airs and set a date, we will—"

"
Coquettish…
!" she gasped, wrenching
free. "Why, of all the—"

"Well, dash it all, Yolande, when
are
you going to permit me to announce it?"

Her heart fluttering, she said. "Perhaps never, if I must face
a future in which you are ready to call out every gentleman I chance to
speak to!"

"
Never
? My God! You do not— Dearest girl…
you never mean to cry off?"

She felt miserable now and close to tears, and darting a
glance at him saw that he was very white, a stark desolation in his
face. She loved him dearly and, struck to the heart, reached out her
hand. "Forgive me. That was very bad. But, you know, Dev, I have almost
as—as nasty a temper as do you."

He clasped her hand between both his own, scanning her beloved
features anxiously. She had spoken in the heat of anger, merely. She
had not truly meant that she might not wed him. For a moment, the
prospect of a future in which Yolande played no part had stretched out,
bleak and terrible before him, but that was silliness. They were meant
for each other; they always had been meant for each other. He must
learn to handle her more gently was all. It was difficult sometimes,
when one had grown up with a chit, to see her as anything but a
pigtailed schoolgirl… But Yolande was far from that now, and other
men—too many, blast them!—saw her with far different eyes. "I'm a crazy
clunch," he said repentantly, "and you are perfectly right, I'm jealous
as a link boy's torch. I love you, you know. Very much. But—I wonder
you tolerate me, much less accept me as a husband."

The declaration was as clumsy as it was rare. Overwhelmed,
Yolande tightened her grip on his hand and smiled mistily.

Devenish knew a great surge of relief. Her affection was plain
to see. He was reprieved! Offering his arm, he said with his engaging
grin, "A stroll around the riding club, m'dear?"

She took his arm, and as they strolled along together he told
her most of what had transpired. He spoke lightly, but at the finish
she halted and stood regarding him in no little perplexity.

"However can you laugh at it? You might very well have been
killed! I can certainly understand your aversion to Mr. Garvey, and I
will be honest, Dev, and admit I cannot quite like him, although I have
no complaints as to his treatment of us. I assure you he made no
attempt to engage my affections. He was kind and considerate, and
apparently with no other object in view than to be of help to us. He
said his adieux very politely when he delivered us safely here, and
I've not seen him since. Why would he have gone to the trouble and risk
of having you abducted, as you suspect, if he did not mean to try and
fix his interest with me?"

"Perhaps he had another motive." He thought, "Perhaps he was
hoping to please Sanguinet," but he knew that would sound farfetched,
so said nothing more.

Yolande eyed him uncertainly. "Are you thinking that Craig
might pose a threat to him? But—how could he? Craig knows so few people
over here."

"I wouldn't refine overmuch on that, m'dear. That varmint
knows a sight more people than he'll admit to."

"Now
that
—" she smiled—"sounds much more
like dear Dev."

"How so?"

"Why, when last I saw you it seemed only a matter of time
before you two were at it with sword and dagger! Yet just now, when you
were telling me of your adventures, one might have thought Craig your
dearest friend."

"Good God! How could I give you so revolting an impression!
Only because he saved my life, I'm not like to change my opinion of the
rascal."

"Saved your life? Heavens! When?"

"During our scuffle with Messrs. Akim and Benjo. I told you of
it."

"You did not say your
life
was
endangered!"

"Oh. Well, I was downed and just for a minute or two knocked
clean out of time. Old Craig stood over me when one of the louts made
to kick my ribs in, and fought like a lion till I could hop up again."

Her eyes glowed. "How splendid!"

"Yes, I'll admit it was, rather. I was surprised to see how
well he handled himself, for he's such a quiet type. I was never more
shocked than to hear he'd served at Waterloo."

"It does seem incredible. And at first he was at pains to make
us think he had only just arrived in England."

"Well, I suppose he had. He likely joined up in Belgium. Never
look so doubtful. He was at Waterloo all right, and got himself
properly stove in."

"He was wounded! Are you sure there can be no mistake?" And
she knew that there was no mistake, but that she asked purely to learn
more of Craig.

"Quite sure. For one thing, I saw the scar on his chest— beast
of a thing! For another…" He frowned a little. "When we was at
Longhills, Montclair's place, you know, Craig and I were given a room
to share—if you can credit it."

"My goodness! They must have been very full of guests."

"Lord, no! There was only Montclair and the Trents—and Selby
was from home, thank God! But, never mind about that. The point is that
Craig started to talk to me in the night—or so I thought, only it
turned out he was dreaming. Had the deuce of a time with him. He kept
saying that he was 'all right' and that they must hold their position
at all costs. There wasn't much doubt what he was re-living and I'd
judge the real thing to have been—" he kicked at a clump of
dandelions—"rather grim."

For a moment Yolande stood silent and very still, staring also
at the dandelions. Then, drawing a deep breath she said, "I see. No
wonder you name him a shifty scoundrel! He deceived us all."

Devenish glanced up, met her smile, and grinned responsively.
"Didn't he just! Which—"

"Mr. Dev! Oh—Mr. Dev!"

Mounted on the back of the filly's mother, Josie ambled
towards them.

"My Lady Fair," Devenish laughed. "How did you manage to get
up on that mighty charger?"

"By Jove!" exclaimed Tyndale, wandering up to them with the
General. "What a magnificent animal! A Belgian, sir?"

"Clydesdale," said Drummond, proudly. "The breed was founded
in my father's youth. That's Molly-My-Lass you're looking at."

They all walked closer to the fence, and Tyndale reached up to
stroke the neck of the great horse, who suffered his caress for only a
moment before moving to nuzzle at Devenish.

Nodding at Josie, the General observed, "That must have been a
large climb for you, little lady."

"Oh, I love horses, sir," said she brightly. "And they like
me. Mostly. I just climbed up the fence and then hopped on. But I think
I'll come down now please, 'cause her back's so wide it's making me
legs stretch awful!"

Devenish put one hand on the fence, but hesitated. Craig swung
with lithe ease over the bars and into the paddock, and lifted the
child down.

A part of Yolande's mind registered the fact that poor Dev's
leg must be troubling him again, which was natural enough after so long
and violent a journey. Most of her awareness was centred on Craig,
however. How kind that he had moved so quickly to spare Dev any
possible embarrassment. He was smiling at something Josie had said, the
wind ruffling his light hair, the sunshine bright on his face,
accenting the laugh lines about his eyes.

The filly came flirting over, and Josie made a dart for the
pretty creature, but with a flaunt of her tail and a roll of saucy
eyes, the filly bounced off again. Craig swept Josie up and settled her
on the fence, and Devenish reached up to collect her. Climbing the
rails, Craig swung one leg over the top, glanced at Yolande, and
paused, struck into immobility as his eyes met hers. The clear grey
gaze seemed to pierce her heart and she could not look away. Time had
halted. Yolande seemed scarcely to breathe and was so entranced that it
was all she could do not to move towards him, and Craig sat astride the
topmost rail as one hypnotized.