“Ashe was when he steeled himself to make me an offer?” said Cressy, unable to resist temptation. “Ah, well! I have been for too long at my last prayers to feel the least surprise at that!”
“Yes, love, indeed!” agreed Mr Fancot, unhandsomely refusing the gambit. “So old cattish as you are!”
“Odious wretch!” Her brows drew together. “Yes, but I still don’t understand! Having so steeled himself, why did he go away at just that moment?”
“As far as we know,” replied Kit carefully, “he went to redeem from Lord Silverdale, who was said to be in Brighton, a brooch which my mama had lost to him at play.”
“Oh!” said Cressy doubtfully. “I see. That is,—yes, of course!”
“I should perhaps explain to you,” said Kit, in a kind voice, “that when Mama staked this bauble, for a cool monkey, she had forgotten that it was merely a copy of one of the pieces she sold years ago.” He added, as she gasped: “But pray don’t think that Evelyn went off to Brighton so hurriedly at her instigation! Nothing could be farther from the truth! She considers that to redeem, for the sum of £500, a brooch worth only a few guineas is grossly improvident.”
Cressy struggled with herself for a desperate moment, but her feelings overcame her, and she went into a peal of mirth. “Of course she does! I can almost hear her saying it! Oh, was there ever anyone so absurd and enchanting as Godmama?”
“Let me tell you, Miss Stavely,” said Kit severely, “that this is not a diverting story! Are you ever serious?”
“Yes, in my own home. Amongst the Fancots, never! No one could be! I have had a—a bubble of laughter inside me ever since I came to Ravenhurst, and you have no idea how much I enjoy it! And when I recall that Godmama told me once that you are the sober twin, and think of this crazy masquerade—”
“But it is perfectly true!” he assured her. “I am the sober twin! Mama would tell you that I am becoming prim and prosy, in fact, like my Uncle Brumby! “I couldn’t help myself: what else could I do than help Evelyn out of a scrape?”
There was a warm twinkle in her eyes, but she responded gravely: “Naturally you were obliged to do it. And did he recover the brooch?”
“We don’t know. He certainly went to Brighton, and as certainly returned here, for one night. He then sent Challow off to Hill Street, with all but his nightbag, saying that he would follow him within the next two days. He left Ravenhurst for an unknown destination, driving himself in his phaeton—and that is the last anyone has heard of him.”
She was startled, and exclaimed: “Good God, what can have happened to him? Can you discover no trace?”
“I haven’t tried to. When I came here it was with the intention of searching for him, not realizing what Challow lost no time in pointing out to me: that I’m hamstrung! So are we all. How can any of us set inquiries afoot for Evelyn while I am believed to be Evelyn?”
“I hadn’t thought of that. But is there nothing to be done?”
“Nothing that I can think of. I hoped I might be able perhaps to discover some clue from Mrs Alperton, but that scent was false, and leads only to Tunbridge Wells, where Challow has already hunted for him. Cressy, I haven’t thanked you for rescuing me from that harpy! I don’t know what I should have done if you hadn’t intervened—though I wouldn’t have exposed you to such a scene for the world! What made you come into the room?”
“Well, I heard her ranting at you. I own, I suspected something of the sort when Norton looked so meaningly at you, and was so insistent that he must speak to you alone!”
“Good God! Did you?” he exclaimed, surprised.
She smiled faintly. “Why, yes! I’m not quite without experience, you see. Oh, I don’t mean that I have associated with women like Mrs Alperton—though I did once have an encounter with a—a lady of easy virtue! But that was quite by accident, and Papa never knew anything about it. The thing was that when my mother died Papa wouldn’t permit any of my aunts to take charge of me, because he had always been so fond of me, and we were such good friends, ever since I can remember. So I stayed in Mount Street, with Miss Yate, who was my governess, and the dearest creature; and as soon as I was sixteen I came out of the schoolroom, and managed things, and looked after Papa—keeping him company, when he was at home, and comfortable, which he wasn’t, after Mama died. So I pretty soon grew to know about—oh, the things girls don’t, in general, know!” She laughed suddenly. “If I had been the greatest nickninny alive, I must have guessed, from the veiled warnings of my aunts, that Papa’s way of life was not—not perfectly respectable! I believe they thought that he might, at any moment, install one of his fancies in Mount Street! Grandmama knew better, and was a great deal more blunt, when she explained matters to me, and told me how very improperly gentlemen of even the first consideration too often conduct themselves, and exactly how a lady of quality should behave in all circumstances—however mortifying these might be! I must own,” she added reflectively, “that it gave me a very poor notion of my grandfather! And although I dearly love Papa I do know now why my mother was subject to fits of dejection, and—and I would prefer not to be married to anyone of a rakish disposition!”
“That’s dished me!” observed Kit despondently.
“Yes, I was afraid you’d be sadly cast down!” she retorted. Her eyes narrowed in amusement. “I wish you might have seen your own face, when I came into the room! Did you think I might add to the confusion by falling into a fit of the vapours?”
“Not quite that,” he answered, smiling, “but I did think you must be very much shocked.”
“Oh, no! I knew that Denville had been a trifle in what Papa calls the petticoat line! What I did feel was that since you were not Denville you might very easily have found yourself in a fix—”
“Which I most certainly did!” he interjected.
She smiled at him, and said, quoting his own words: “So what could I do but help you out of a scrape?”
He caught her hand to his lips. “Oh, Cressy, you are such a darling!” he told her. “Don’t think badly of my twin! I know it must seems as though he’s a shocking loose-screw, but I promise you he’s not!”
“No, of course he’s not! You can’t suppose that I believed the fustian nonsense Mrs Alperton talked, about his leaving Clara to starve! As for his having seduced her, I should think it very much more likely that it was Clara who seduced him! Kit, I know it is most improper of me to ask you, but who was the Marquis?”
“My dear, I haven’t the least notion, and dared not inquire! I only know that he provided her with outriders, and stocked her cellars with wine from his own.”
“And a carriage drawn by cream-coloured horses! I did venture to inquire, but she said he was a Duke now, and turned respectable, and that she bore him no grudge, and so wouldn’t take his character away.”
“What a pity! I dare say we shall never know now.” He sat frowning for a moment or two. “I wonder if Evelyn did go after Silverdale? He has a place somewhere in the north, I collect. No, I don’t think he would have done so without telling Mama.”
“He didn’t. Sir Bonamy was talking about Silverdale yesterday, to Mr Cliffe—that is to say, he was talking about Brighton, and the people staying at the Pavilion. He mentioned Lord Silverdale: I heard him. Kit, cannot you think of any place where Denville might be? I do feel you ought to make a push to discover what has happened to him. You can’t maintain this hoax for ever!”