Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 06] - The Noblest Frailty by Patricia Veryan Read Free Book Online

the man who had
jeopardized his daughter's life. "I did not, but I saw his horse, sir,
and a more unlovely brute I've seldom beheld. You'd doubt he had the
ability to set one hoof before the next."
    "Is that so? Bit of a dark horse, what?"
    "Like his owner! They were undoubtedly seeking the nearest
circus so as to exhibit their tricks!"
    "Oho!" Sir Martin's eyes widened. "From Yolande's manner I had
thought him a gentleman."
    Devenish shrugged. "A Colonial."
    "Really? We don't see many of them hereabouts. I heard the
Beau had one on his staff. Fine chap. De-something. Got himself killed,
poor fellow. DeWitt—was it?"
    "Oh, you mean DeLancey, sir. Yes, he was American— killed at
Waterloo. This chap is Canadian. An insolent devil."
    Sir Martin decided he had done the trick and that it was safe
to now call the discussion to a halt. He said, "Well, I am sure you put
him in his place, eh?" Standing, he put out his hand. "You'll forgive
me, Dev, but I'd best get upstairs and see how Yolande goes on."
    Devenish stood reluctantly, and the two men shook hands. "Of
course. But—"
    "My regards to Alastair," Sir Martin said hurriedly. "You must
come and take your mutton with us. Er, in a week or so, when we've
quieted down a trifle."
    "Thank you, sir. Is Yolande going away?"
    The bedevilled father ground his teeth, but answered brightly,
"Not today, at all events." He swung the door open. "As to the future,
who can tell? These ladies of ours change their minds every time the
wind blows from a different quarter. I remember once…"
    His memories lasted until the safety of the main staircase was
reached, at which point he clapped his balked companion on the
shoulder, said heartily that there was no call to show him out since
he'd run tame at Park Parapine since he was breeched, and made his
escape up the stairs.
    Devenish watched that retreat broodingly. "Humbugged, by God!"
he breathed. Every law of proper behaviour dictated that he politely
accept his dismissal. He had spent most of his life, however, breaking
laws of proper behaviour. He therefore set his classic jaw, turned on
his heel, and marched back to the saloon. There, he tapped gently on
the door, waited through a sudden scurry of movement inside, and turned
the handle.
    A little flushed, Mrs. Drummond lay as before, save that the
quilt which had been laid over her was considerably rumpled, and on the
air hung the distinct aroma of peaches. Devenish darted an amused
glance to the teakwood credenza. A jade bowl held some grapes from the
succession houses, but there was no sign of a peach. He thought, "Aunty
nipped over there and found something to sustain her, the crafty
rascal!" But he said, with appropriate if insincere gravity, "I came to
see how you go along, ma'am. You suffered a very nasty fall."
    Just as insincerely, Mrs. Drummond murmured, "Dear Devenish.
How very kind. I expect I shall—come through… somehow…"
    It was a superb performance, he thought, and said wickedly,
"Gad, ma'am! You are become so pale. May I bring you a morsel of food?
A glass of wine, perhaps? A little sustenance might—"
    "No, no!" She shuddered, wrapping the peach pit in her
handkerchief under the shield of the quilt. "The merest thought of food
nauseates me! But you have a kind heart. Pray sit down. Not everyone
does, you know."
    He hesitated. "If you prefer that I stand…"
    "No," she giggled coyly. "I meant—not everyone has a kind
heart."
    He smiled and seated himself, prepared to guide the
conversation to the questions he burned to utter. He was doomed. On the
brink of extinction though she might be, Mrs. Drummond expounded at
length on the evils attendant upon allowing foreigners to cavort
unchecked through Britain, the terrible ills that had befallen several
ladies of her acquaintance following accidents far less severe than the
nightmare she had just experienced, and her belief that "this Winters
man" was in reality an escaped lunatic. "No one in possession of his
faculties," she