She put up her hands to the strings, and untied it. “I think it has served its turn,” she said composedly, and put back her hood.
The smile was wiped from his face; he stood staring at her. “What the devil — ?” he began.
She took off her cloak and laid it carefully on a chair; she had quite forgotten her pistol, for she had a part to play. She tried to smile archly, as Sophia could, and hoped she did not boggle it.
“Oh, my lord, I vow you are too easy to trick!” she said, and tittered, quite in Sophia’s manner.
He strode up to her, and caught her wrists in a painful grasp. “I am, am I? We shall see, my girl. Where’s your sister?”
“La, where should she be but in her bed?” Mary answered. “Lord, how we laughed when she showed me your letter! She was all for playing some jest on you to punish you for your impudence. So we put our heads together, my lord, and hit on the very thing. Oh, she will die of laughing when I tell her how you never suspected ’twas I you had in the coach, and not her at all!” There was not a tremor in Miss Challoner’s voice as she spoke her part; she was all flippant vulgarity upon the surface. But under the surface, good God, is he going to murder me? she thought.
Murder certainly looked out of his eyes, his grip on her wrists made her wince. “A jest, is it?” he said. “Her jest — or yours? Answer me!”
Her rôle was hard to maintain, but she continued airily enough: “Oh well, to be sure ’twas I carried it through, and I dare say I should have thought of it if she had not.”
“She thought of it?” he interrupted.
She nodded. “Yes, but I did not at all like it at first, only when she threatened to get Eliza Matcham to go if I would not I consented.” She glanced up at him fleetingly, but dared not keep her eyes on his. “You need not think, my lord, that you can seduce Sophia so easily. She led you on finely, did she not? But when she found you’d no thought of marriage, she determined to teach you a lesson!”
“Marriage!” he said, and threw back his head and laughed. “Marriage! By God, that’s rich!”
Her cheeks were stained crimson. His laughter had a jeering, wicked ring; he looked like a devil, she thought. He let her go all at once, and cast himself down in a chair by the table. The murderous look had left his face, but in his half-closed eyes was a gleam that alarmed her more. The man meant mischief. His glance stripped her naked. Her cheeks grew hotter, and she saw that an ugly smile had curled his thin lips. His very attitude, while she still stood, was an insult. He lounged at his ease, one leg stretched out before him, a hand driven deep into his breeches pocket.
“You’ll forgive my amusement,” he drawled. “I suppose the truth is that Miss Sophia has found some other fool who offered more than I did, eh?”
She shrugged carelessly. “Oh, I tell no secrets, sir!”
The door opened and the landlord came in, followed by a serving-man with a tray. Miss Challoner walked over to the window while the cloth was laid. When they were alone again my lord said: “Your coffee — have I ever heard your name? Mary, isn’t it?”
She forgot her role, and said coldly: “I have not given you the right to use it, sir.”
Again he laughed. “My good girl, you’ve given me whatever rights I choose to claim. Sit down.”
She remained where she was, eyeing him.
“Obstinate, eh? Ill tame you,” Vidal said, and got up.
She had an impulse to run from him, and curbed it. She was swept off her feet and dumped down, none too gently, on a chair by the table. A heavy hand on her shoulder kept her there. “You elected to come with me,” the Marquis said, “and by God you’ll obey me, if I have to lay my whip about your sides!”
He looked so grim that she could not but believe he would do as he threatened. She sat still and he removed his hand from her shoulder. “Drink your coffee,” he said. “You’ve not much time.”
Her hands were no longer quite steady, but she contrived to pour some coffee into the cup.
“Shaking, eh?” said that hateful voice. “I shan’t beat you if you behave yourself. Let me have a look at you.” He turned up her face with a careless hand under her chin. “You’re not so bad-looking after all,” he remarked. “I dare say we shall deal extremely together.”
She drank a little of the hot coffee; it put heart into her; she replied calmly: “Unfortunately we shall have no opportunity of judging. I go back to London by the first coach.”
“Oh no, my dear,” said his lordship. “You’ll go to Paris with me, in Sophia’s stead.”
She pushed her cup and saucer away from her. “You’re talking wildly, my lord. You won’t expect me to believe that it is me you want to run away with.”
“Why not?” said his lordship, coolly. “One wench is much like another after all.”
She sat very upright, her hands lightly folded in her lap. “You’ve been worsted, sir, but need you insult me?”
He laughed. “We’ll see who’s worsted when we reach the end of the jest, my girl. As to insults, egad! I wish you would tell me how I may insult so bold a piece as yourself. Don’t put on that missish face, my dear. It won’t serve after this night’s escapade.”
“You can’t take me to France,” she persisted. “You think because Sophia was indiscreet — that I — that we are loose women, but — ”
“If you’re trying to make me believe in your virtue, you’re wasting your breath,” interrupted his lordship. “I knew what your sister was from the start, and as for you, whatever doubts I may have had you’ve set at rest. Virtuous young ladies, my dear, don’t lend themselves to these jests. I may not be very much to your taste, but if you contrive to please me, you won’t find me less generous than any other man.”
“You are unpardonable!” she said in a suffocated voice. She got up, and this time he made no effort to prevent her. “Have the goodness to tell me how far I am from London. What is this place?”
“Newhaven,” he replied, draining his tankard.
“Can I travel by stage-coach from here?”
“I’ve no idea,” said his lordship with a yawn. “It need not concern you. I meant what I said.”
“To take me to Paris? You’re absurd, my lord. Do you suppose I should make no outcry? In these days even a noble marquis could scarcely force a young female aboard his yacht.”
“Scarcely,” agreed his lordship. “But I can make you so damned drunk that you’ll be in no fit case to struggle, my girl.” He drew a flask from the pocket of his greatcoat and held it up. “Hollands,” he said briefly.
She was scandalized. “I think you are mad,” she said with conviction.
He got up and came towards her. “You can think what you like, Mary, but you’ll drink my Hollands.”
She moved back till the wall stayed her. “If you touch me, I’ll scream,” she warned him. “I don’t desire to make a scene, but I will.”
“Scream away,” he said. “You’ll find old Simon is very deaf — when he doesn’t want to hear.”
She was shrewd enough to know that the landlord would hesitate to interfere with his noble patron if he could avoid it, and felt suddenly very helpless. The Marquis towered over her, and it seemed likely that he really would force the contents of his flask down her throat. She said quietly: “Please do not make me drink that. I am not a shameless woman, my lord, though I must seem to be one. I can — I think I can make you understand, if you will listen to me.”
“I’ll listen to you later,” he replied. “There’s no time now.”
As though to corroborate him, someone knocked loudly at the door, and called: “My lord, we’ll miss the tide!”
“I’m coming,” he answered, and turned back to Mary. “Quickly, you!”
She held him off, both her hands clasping his wrist. “You need not make me drunk,” she said. “Since there’s no help for it I’ll come.”
“I thought you would,” said the Marquis with a grim little smile.
He turned away from her to the table, and picked up his tankard, and drained it. He never took his eyes off her, and she found herself unable to look boldly back at him as she would have liked to do. He set down the tankard as she came to pick up her cloak from the chair where she had laid it, and said with a drawling note in his voice: “You’ll see no one but my own fellows on the quay, but if you should be tempted to make a scene, remember I shall be beside you, and can throttle you before you’ve time to make more than one screech.”