Джорджетт Хейер: The Reluctant Widow

“None whatsoever,” she replied. “I received him in the parlor and he showed no disposition to linger. But he did say that he would return to attend the funeral and that he should stay at Highnoons.”

“He was frightened,” John said slowly. “At that time, I did not credit Ned’s suspicions, but it is true that he was devilish ill at ease. But Ned thought then that Francis Cheviot might be the man we were after, and I set it all down to Bedlington’s having got wind of it. Ned, do you think he can have lost his head and told the whole to Francis? Or even that Francis has been privy to it from the start?”

“Certainly not that. Had Francis been joined with his father in the treason I cannot doubt that De Castres would be alive today. It is possible that Bedlington, finding his schemes to have gone hopelessly awry, turned to Francis for aid, to save him from disgrace. That Bedlington, with affairs in this uncertain state, has retired into the country on a plea of ill health, seems to me to suggest that Francis has taken the reins into his hands and is driving his father hard.”

Again John stared down into his wineglass, his brow furrowed. “And you would give that memorandum to him?” he said.

“Well?” Carlyon said. “If my conjectures are found to be correct, you will agree that Francis Cheviot leaves nothing to chance. De Castres was his frend, but De Castres is dead. I do not know how he means to deal with Bedlington, but I think, if I were Bedlington, I should deem it well to obey Francis—quite implicitly.”

“Surely he would not harm his own father!” cried Elinor.

“I wonder if his father thinks so?” said Carlyon dryly.

“Ned, this is not a thing to be decided in a trice.”

“No. Turn it over in your mind. If you are set on exposing the whole, very well—it shall be so.” He glanced at the clock. “You will wish to change your dress before we dine. We’ll say no more of the matter at this present Mrs. Cheviot, if you should like it, I will take you to Mrs. Rugby. We dine in half an hour.”

She thanked him and rose, but before he had taken two steps towards the door, it opened and Nicky bounced into the room, looking tired and disheveled, but triumphant. “I’ve found him!” he announced.

“Good God!” John exclaimed. “Where, Nicky?”

“Why, you would never believe it! In our own West Wood!”

“ What? ”

“Ay! And I had been searching forever but never thought, until I was in flat despair, that he might have come this way! He knew I was after him too, and in the devil of a temper, for he hid from me under a bush! It was the merest chance that I caught sight of him, and he would not come out, not he!”

“Hid from you under a bush?” John repeated blankly.

“Yes, and I had to drag him out by main force, so plastered with mud I have shut him in the stables and he may roll himself clean in the straw. Lord, how thankful I am to have got him back safe!”

John gave a gasp. “Are you talking about that damnable mongrel of yours?” he demanded.

“He is not a mongrel! He is a crossbred! Why, what else should I be talking about, I should like to know?”

“I thought you had been searching for Cheviot!”

“Cheviot! What, with Bouncer lost? No, I thank you! Besides,” said Nicky, recalling his grievance and suddenly speaking with alarming hauteur, “I have quite washed my hands of that business, since Carlyon had as lief manage without my help. I’m sure it’s no matter to me, and much I care!”

“If I have sunk to being Carlyon I see that I have offended beyond pardon,” remarked his mentor. “But I think you might bid Mrs. Cheviot good evening.”

Nicky became aware of Elinor’s presence and blinked at her. “Why, hallo, Cousin Elinor!” he said. “How came you here? I thought you was laid down upon your bed!” He looked round suspiciously. “Oh! I suppose something excessively exciting has happened which you do not mean to tell me!”

“Nicky, stop being so out of reason cross! Of course I mean to tell you!”

“You will not do so!” John said hastily.

“Nonsense! This has been more Nicky’s adventure than mine, and I think he has a right to know the end of it.”

“The fewer people to know the better. It is a damned serious affair, Ned, but it is just like you to be treating it as if it were the merest commonplace!”

Nicky, who had flushed up to the roots of his hair, said stiffly, “If you think it unsafe to tell me you need not do so! Though why you should I don’t know, for it was Gussie who always gave away all the secrets, not I.”

Perceiving that he had grievously hurt his young brother’s feelings, John said in a testy voice, “Now, Nick, don’t, for God’s sake, be such a young fool! Only you are such a rattlepate, you may blurt something out without meaning to! However, it is for Ned to decide! I have nothing to say in the matter. The fact is, those papers are found and Ned will have it that it was Bedlington who was selling them to Boney and Francis trying only to recover them and to scotch the scandal if the theft should leak out!”

“Bedlington!” Nicky gasped. “ Bedlington? Oh, by Jove, if that is not too bad! I kept Bouncer beside me all the time he was at Highnoons for fear he should bite him!”

It was some time before Nicky could be induced to suspend his eager questions and go upstairs to change his muddied coat and buckskin breeches for attire more suitable for the dinner table. He was at first incredulous of Carlyon’s conjecture, but his incredulity was seen to spring more from a rooted dislike of Francis Cheviot than from any reasonable objection to it. He would have been glad to have known Francis for a traitor and was inclined to think it a great shame if he were to be exonerated. As for Carlyon’s discovery of the memorandum in the bracket clock, this for a time revived his sense of ill-usage, and he eyed his eldest brother with reproachful severity and addressed him in terms of such cold civility that it was plain to everyone that much tact would be needed to win him back to his usual good humor. However, it was impossible for anyone with so sunny a temper to bear malice for long, and when Carlyon mounted the broad stairs beside him and tucked a hand in his arm, saying, “Don’t freeze me quite to death, Nicky!” he melted a little and replied, “Well, I do not think it was a handsome thing to do, Ned, I must say!”

“Most unhandsome,” Carlyon agreed.

“As though I could not be trusted!”

“Absurd!”

“In fact, I think it was excessively highhanded of you and selfish as well, besides interfering, because it was more my adventure than yours, after all! And then you would not even let me share the most exciting part!”

“I am altogether a shabby and mean-spirited person,” said Carlyon meekly. “I do not know how you have borne with me for so long. But if I try to mend my ways, perhaps I shall win forgiveness.”

“Ned!” exploded Nicky wrathfully. “I never knew such a complete hand as you are! A regular right cool fish! And if you think I am such a green one that I don’t know when you are trying to roast me you are much mistaken!”

“Abuse me as much as you wish, Nicky. I deserve it all! But there is a roast goose for dinner, and if you are late—”

“No!” exclaimed Nicky, instantly diverted. “Is there, indeed? Then I declare I’m sorry I thrashed poor old Bouncer, for if I had not been obliged to chase after him all this way I must have missed it!”

He hurried off to change his clothes, and made such haste over his toilet that he joined the party just as they were sitting down to table. While the servants were in the room, conversation had to be kept to such harmless subjects as presented themselves to the minds of four persons preoccupied with one burning topic of interest, and was necessarily a trifle desultory. But when the goose had been removed and a Chantilly cake placed on the table flanked by a dish of puits d’amour and one of sack cream, Carlyon signed to the butler that he might withdraw with his two minions. No sooner had the door closed behind them than John, who had been sitting in abstracted silence, said heavily that try as he would he could not decide what to do for the best.