They passed round the bend in the stairway. Down in the hall the two lackeys looked at one another. “Corpses one moment, fans the next,” said the man who held Vidal’s coat. “There’s the Quality for you!”
The episode of the corpse had by this time apparently faded from Lord Vidal’s mind, but Mr. Fox, thinking it a very good tale, spoke of it to at least three people, who repeated it to others. It came in due course to the ears of Lady Fanny Marling, who, in company with her son John, and her daughter Juliana, was present at the drum.
Lady Fanny had been a widow for a number of years, and the polite world had ceased to predict a second marriage for her. Flighty she had always been, but her affection for the late Mr. Edward Marling had been a very real thing. Her period of mourning had lasted a full year, and when she reappeared in society it was quite a long time before she had spirits to amuse herself with even the mildest flirtation. Now, with a daughter of marriageable age, she was becoming quite matronly, and had taken to arraying herself in purples and greys, and to wearing on her exceedingly elaborate coiffure turbans that spoke the dowager.
She was talking to an old friend, one Hugh Davenant, when she overheard the story of her nephew’s latest exploit, and she at once broke off her own conversation to exclaim: “That abominable boy! I vow and declare I never go anywhere but what I hear of him. And never any good, Hugh. Never!”
Hugh Davenant’s grey eyes travelled across the room to where the Marquis was standing, and dwelled rather thoughtfully on that arrogant figure. He did not say anything for a moment, and Lady Fanny rattled on.
“I am sure I have not the least objection to him shooting a highwayman — my dear Hugh, do but look at that odd gown! What a figure of fun — oh, it is Lady Mary Coke! Well, small wonder. She never could dress, and really she is become so strange of late, people say she is growing absolutely English. Yes, Hugh, I heard it from Mr. Walpole, and he vowed she was mad — what was I saying? Vidal! Oh, yes, well, if he must shoot highwaymen, it’s very well, but to leave the poor man dead on the road — though I make no doubt he would have done the same to Vidal, for I believe they are horridly callous, these fellows — but that’s neither here nor there. Vidal had no right to leave him. Now people will say that he is wickedly blood-thirsty, or something disagreeable, and it is quite true, only one does not want the whole world to say so.” She drew a long breath. “And Léonie,” she said — “and yon know, Hugh, I am very fond of dear Léonie — Léonie will laugh, and say that her méchant Dominique is dreadfully thoughtless. Thoughtless!”
Davenant smiled. “I make no doubt she will,” he agreed. “I sometimes think that the Duchess of Avon will always remain, at heart — Léon, a page.”
“Hugh, do I beseech you, have a care! You do not know who may overhear you. As for Avon, I truly think he does not care at all what happens to Dominic.”
“After all,” Hugh said slowly, “Dominic is so very like him,”
Lady Fanny shut her fan with a snap. “If you are minded to be unkind about my poor Avon, Hugh, I warn you I shall not listen. Lud, I’m sure he has been a perfect paragon ever since he married Léonie. I know he is monstrous disagreeable, and no one was ever more provoking, unless it be Rupert, who, by the way, encourages Dominic in every sort of excess, just as one would expect — but I’ll stake my reputation Avon was never such a — yes, Hugh, such a devil as Vidal. Why, they call him Devil’s Cub! And if you are going to tell me that is because he is Avon’s son, all I can say is that you are in a very teasing mood, and it’s no such thing.”