"Surely you would lose nothing by postponing the issue for a while?"
"There lies the rub. I fear one might lose everything. 'Tis said that these Russians are as proud as they are bold. After the avowals he has already made me he will come with high expectations. Should I not give him some encouragement he may think that I have deliberately made a fool of him, and the strength of his resentment might rob me of any future chance to develop his acquaintance."
Roger's face hardened. "You must have known he was coming days ago, yet you told me nothing of it. 'Tis clear that you were already considering him as a possible successor to myself yet lacked the frankness to tell me what was in your mind."
"I thought of doing so but refrained, from an instinct that you would take it ill and behave towards me like a jealous husband; and rightly, so it seems."
"On the contrary, Madam, I should have packed my bags and relieved you of my presence; as I would this very afternoon were it not that Droopy is coming here at my behest. Since that renders my immediate departure impossible I feel that I have the right to ask that, whatever assignations you may choose to make with Vorontzoff for the near future, you will spare me the humiliation of allowing him to make love to you till I have left your house."
Georgina sighed. "Roger you weary me a little. I have been entirely faithful to you for these past five months; but now I invoke our pact. Before Athenais de Rochambeau gave you her heart you already loved her desperately; yet, as you have told me, you did not scruple to take mistresses for your amusement. Why then should you cavil so now if I elect to give something of myself to another, which will not detract one iota from my deep, abiding love for you. Besides, .as I have already said, I may give the Russian no more than a few kisses."
"If you'll promise that I'll say no more."
Slowly Georgina stood up, shook out the folds of her voluminous red velvet gown and drew herself up to her full height. They faced one another only a yard apart; two splendid, strong-willed, passionate young people. Then she said firmly:
"I have already told you, Sir, all will depend upon how much or how little he attracts me on closer acquaintance. I refuse to be dictated to, and I will promise nothing."
At that moment a coach-horn sounded in the distance, and she added, "There! That will be some of my guests arriving. I must hurry down to join Papa for their reception."
As she was about to turn away he seized her by the arm, and cried furiously: "I'm damned if I'll let you tromper me under my very nose."
"About that we'll see!" she snapped back, her dark eyes blazing. "But please to understand that from this instant I forbid you the entrée to my private apartments; and that I'll do as I damn well please!"
Then, wrenching her arm from his grasp, she sailed regally from the room.
CHAPTER II
A LOSING BATTLE
As Georgina reached the top of the main staircase Roger caught her up. Below them her father, Colonel Thursby, who adored, spoilt and lived with her almost permanently, although he had two houses of his own, had just come out of one of the four splendid reception rooms that gave onto the spacious entrance hall of the mansion.
On catching sight of him Roger made Georgina a formal bow and offered her his arm. Laying her hand lightly on it she gathered up her billowing skirts with the other, and they walked down the broad, shallow stairs. By the time they reached the bottom not a trace of ill temper was to be seen on the face of either, although both their hearts were still beating with unnatural swiftness as a result of their quarrel.
The front door was already open and a squad of liveried footmen were relieving the first arrivals of their wraps. These proved to be Lord Edward Fitz-Deverel and Mr. Selwyn. Both were members of White's Club and it transpired that the former, learning that the latter was also going to Stillwaters for the week-end, had carried him from London in his curricle.
Roger's friend was some three years older than himself; an extremely thin but rather tall young man with pale blue eyes and a beaky nose. He had derived his nickname of Droopy Ned from his chronic stoop, but he was a great dandy; and under his lazy manner he concealed a quick, well-balanced and unusually profound mind.
George Selwyn was nearly seventy, although he did not look it; and from his mild, benign face no one would ever have guessed that in his youth he had been one of the most notorious rakes in London. He possessed an enchanting wit, a most kindly disposition and friends without number, being equally popular with Queen Charlotte and Betty the flower woman of St. James's Street.
With the courtly manners of the day both the new arrivals made a gallant leg to Georgina, who curtseyed deeply in response; then, with hands on their hearts, they exchanged bows with Colonel Thursby and Roger, while the well-bred greetings echoed round the hall.
"Your ladyship's most humble."
"And yours, m'Lord."
"Your Servant, Sir."
"My duty, Sir, to you."
They were still uttering polite platitudes about the journey and the fortunate state of the weather when another coach-horn sounded, so they all remained in the hall until the next vehicle drew up.
It contained Mr. Fox and Mrs. Armistead, and close on their heels came the Russian Ambassador. He had taken breakfast with them
at her house, St. Anne's Hill, on Fox's suggestion that afterwards his coach could follow theirs and thus more easily find the way.
The famous leader of the Opposition was then in his fortieth year. His big frame was still vigorous, but his swarthy countenance showed the marks of the dissipation in which he had indulged ever since his cynical father had taken him from Eton to Paris, and encouraged him to indulge in vice at the age of fourteen. In his youth he had been a dandy and the leader of the young macaronis, who startled the town with their exaggerated toilettes; but now he had become slovenly in his dress. His black hair, streaked with grey, was ill-brushed, and he took no measures to restrain the great, ugly paunch that seemed every moment to threaten to burst his silk breeches.
Mrs. Armistead, a lady of uncertain age, still possessed a certain coarse beauty, but she showed an admirable restraint in both her dress and manners; evidently being well content to play the moon to her distinguished lover's sun.
Roger greeted them both with the utmost politeness, but he had no eyes for either. The second he had made his bows his gaze fastened on Count Vorontzoff, and he felt that Georgina had given him a very fair description of the Russian.
The Count, Roger judged, was not less than forty, but his face, figure and movements all bespoke a forceful, virile personality. He was of medium height, well-made and very dark. His rather flat face, high cheekbones and jet black eyes suggested Tartar blood, and the last had all the inscrutability of an Oriental's. His clothes were evidently London made, but his wig and the rich jewels he was wearing at his throat and on his hands added to the foreignness of his appearance.
He stood for a moment quietly smiling at Georgina before he bowed to her. The smile lit up his rather sombre features, giving them a strange attraction; but there was something more than greeting or frank admiration in his glance; something insolent, cocksure, possessive, that made Roger itch to slap his face.
When the Russian spoke it was in French, and with the greatest fluency. Two of his servitors, rough hairy men, had entered behind him carrying a small, leather, round-lidded trunk. Having reached out, taken both Georgina's hands with the greatest assurance, kissed them, and murmured some most lavish compliments, he went on to say that he begged to be permitted to offer her a trifling present— a bagatelle quite unworthy of her but in which she might care to dress up one of her servants for her amusement. Then he beckoned his men forward.