‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too.’
‘What matters it?’ cried Melusine impatiently. ‘Who is to be angry with you now?’
‘Miss Prudence, that’s who,’ stated Joan bluntly. ‘What’s more, I wouldn’t blame her.’
Arrested, Melusine eyed her with interest. ‘Prudence? This name I have heard it spoken. It is a very good English name, no? But who is she?’
‘Mrs Sindlesham, I should say,’ said Mrs Ibstock, correcting herself. ‘And she’s—’ She broke off, a sudden light in her eyes. ‘Why, that’s it. That’s who you ought to go and see, miss.’
‘Who, Joan, who? Of whom do you speak?’
‘Mrs Sindlesham. Mr Jarvis’s sister, that was. Leastways, she’d be your great-aunt, wouldn’t she?’
Astounded, Melusine was just about to demand further information, when a commotion outside the room interrupted her. She turned towards the door, and had taken a pace towards it when it was flung open.
Captain Roding strode into the parlour. He was no longer in military uniform, and it was evident from his suit of brown brocade that he had been disturbed while preparing for an evening engagement.
Without preamble, in a voice of extreme exasperation, he demanded, ‘Now what the devil’s to do? What in God’s name do you mean by sending Gerald such a ridiculous letter? Never read anything half as crazy. What do you mean by it, eh?’
‘But I did not send it to you,’ Melusine rejoined instantly. ‘Where is Gérard?’
‘Out of town,’ Hilary said briefly. ‘And I’d like to know what the devil—’
‘Out of town?’ repeated Melusine, stupefied. ‘Parbleu, is this a moment to be out of town? What is the matter with him that he is out of town when I need him?’
‘Famous!’ uttered a new voice from the doorway. ‘I knew you would be furious. Did I not say so, Hilary?’
Melusine’s glance shot across to the newcomer, and found a petite blonde standing there, very fashionably attired in a velvet mantel over an apple-green robe, the furred hood framing a face alive with mischief. She came quickly into the little parlour, which now seemed inordinately crowded, and coming up to Melusine, seized her hands in a warm clasp.
‘How do you do? I am so happy to meet you. I am Lucilla Froxfield, you must know. I am betrothed to Captain Roding, which is why you can’t have him, you see.’ She smiled on the last words, adding, ‘Oh, I don’t blame you for trying. He is delightful, is he not?’
‘That will do, Lucilla.’
Melusine found her tongue. ‘If you mean this capitaine, he is on the contrary altogether the least delightful person I have met.’
‘What, even less delightful than Gerald?’ enquired Lucilla, her eyes dancing.
‘As to that, I am at this moment altogether displeased with Gérard, you understand,’ Melusine temporised.
‘I rather gathered as much,’ said Miss Froxfield, releasing her hands. ‘And I do understand. Quite trying of him not to be there when he is wanted. But that is men all over.’
‘Yes, and it seems to me a very strange thing that he interferes all the time in my affairs when I do not want him to do so,’ Melusine said aggrievedly, ‘and the very first time that I wish him in truth to rescue me, he is not there. Parbleu, but I will certainly kill him this time.’
A peal of delighted laughter greeted this threat. ‘Yes, do,’ approved Lucilla. ‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’
Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain. ‘You make a game with me, I think.’
‘No, no,’ the other lady assured her with a twinkle. ‘I can’t tell you the times I’ve wished for a gun to point at Hilary’s head. Perhaps I may borrow yours one day?’
‘Lucilla, you wretch,’ burst from the captain.
‘But she will not shoot you,’ Melusine told him flatly. ‘One does not blow off the head of a man with whom one is in love, en effet.’
‘Don’t be too sure,’ said Miss Froxfield darkly, with a mischievous glance at her betrothed.
‘I can’t help but be sure,’ he returned shortly. ‘You wouldn’t know one end of a pistol from the other.’ He turned to Melusine, ignoring the indignant protest that greeted his words. ‘And it may interest you to know, mademoiselle, that the first thing Gerald must needs do on reaching town is to rush off to that convent of yours to make sure you were safe.’
‘Truly?’ asked Melusine, warmth lighting her bosom. ‘But I was not there.’
‘Of course you weren’t there,’ snapped Hilary. ‘Knew you had the lad with you, and thought you were merely delayed. So he made his dispositions and went off on some other fool’s errand.’
‘But what dispositions?’
‘Posted the men I had brought back with me all about Golden Square to watch for Valade.’
‘Ah, that was well done of him,’ exclaimed Melusine. ‘In this case, I will not kill him at all, even that he should have remained to wait for my letter.’
‘Well, I am glad he did not,’ intervened Lucilla, forestalling another withering comment from the captain. ‘For your messenger was obliged instead to come and find Hilary, and it has given me the opportunity to meet you. And I have wanted to so very much.’
‘But why?’ asked Melusine, astonished, and somewhat overwhelmed by the other girl’s volubility.
‘Don’t be silly. Such a mystery as you have set up. Anyone would be intrigued.’
‘Yes, but I do not wish to have a mystery.’
‘It cannot be helped now. Oh, and only look at those stains,’ cried Miss Froxfield, gesturing at the blood on the ruffles to the sleeves of Melusine’s riding-habit, and on the chemise she wore under it.
Melusine shrugged. ‘It is nothing. One little minute with soap and water, voilà tout.’
