Dennis Wheatley: The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

"Nay, I'd not say that. I meant only that there are times when I fear your reckless disregard for all convention may one day bring you into grievous trouble."

"Should that occur I'll count it a great injustice. Men are allowed to pleasure themselves where they will, so why not a woman? When you were in France. . .."

With a smile, he held up his hand to check her. " 'Tis true enough. I tumbled quite a few pretty darlings whose lineage did not entitle them to make their curtsy at Versailles, and I know, of old, your contention that what is sauce for the gander is sauce for the goose in such matters. But the world does not view things that way. And—well, should aught occur to part us I do beg you, my pet, to harness your future impulses with some degree of caution."

One of those swift changes of mood to which she was frequently subject caused her tapering eyebrows to draw together in a sudden frown. "You were thinking of the horrid thing that I saw but now in the glass?"

"Nay," he protested quickly, cursing himself for having brought her thoughts back to it.

"Indeed you were, Roger. To me your mind is an open book. But have no fears on that score. 'Tis all Lombard Street to a China Orange against my ever again becoming a cut-purse's doxey, and getting a hanging from being involved in his crimes. Dick Coignham was an exception to the breed, and I was a young, romantic thing, in those days. For the most part they are a race of scurvy, unlettered, stinking knaves, that no female so fastidious as myself would lay a finger on. 'Tis you who must now take caution as your watchword. Tis far more likely that, as a man, your temper may lead you into some unpremeditated killing than that I, as a woman, should shed human blood."

"I'll have a care," he agreed. "But from what you said it did appear that should rashness or stupidity bring us to this evil pass we'll both be concerned in it."

"Dear Roger," she laid a hand on his. "How could it be otherwise when our destinies are so entwined? Would not either of us hasten from the ends of the earth to aid the other in such an hour of trial? Physical passion between all lovers must always wax and wane, and in that we can be no exception. Yet, in our case, passion is but a small part of the link that binds us, and we shall love one another till we die."

He raised her hand to his lips. "Thou art right in that; and neither temporary disagreements nor long separations will ever sever this sweet bond, that I value more than life itself. But tell me. When you saw the wedding ring, had you no inkling at all for which of us it was intended?"

"None. And that, m'dear, comes from thy foolishness in proposing that I should seek to tell the future for us both at the same time. 'Tis a thing that I have never before attempted and it created a sad con­fusion in my telling. Seeing that I am married already, though, the odds are clearly against it being for me."

"Not necessarily. Humphrey may break his neck any day in the hunting-field, or die any night from an apoplexy brought on by his excessive punishing of the port."

She sighed. "I wish him no harm; but each time I've seen him of late he's been more plaguey difficult. We liked one another well enough to begin with, but now we have not even friendship left, or mutual respect."

Roger made a comic little grimace. "Your main reason for choosing him rather than one of your many other suitors was because you had set your heart on Stillwaters. You have it; and he leaves you free to lead the life you choose, so it does not seem to me that you have much cause to complain."

"After the first year we agreed to go our separate ways, and until last autumn he gave me very little trouble. But since then he has developed sporadic fits of prying into my affairs, and 'tis a thing that I resent intensely."

"You've never told me of this."

"There was no point in doing so. 'Tis not normal jealousy that causes him to make me these scenes when we meet. 'Tis resentment that I should continue to enjoy life to the full while he is no longer capable of deriving pleasure from aught but horseflesh and the bottle; and, some­thing quite new in him, a morbid fear that he may become a laughing­stock should my infidelities to him be noised abroad. I've a notion that the liquor is beginning to effect his brain. Should I be right in that a time may come when he will have to be put under restraint; and if that occurs he may live to be a hundred. So you see all the chances are that you will marry long before there is any prospect of my being led to the altar as a widow."

"I've no mind to marry," Roger declared. "I would hate to be shackled for life to any woman; that is, unless I could marry you. But perhaps the ring was an omen of the future meant for both of us. Would you marry me, Georgina, if in a few years time you became free?"

"Lud no!" she exclaimed with a sudden widening of her eyes. "I thank thee mightily for the compliment, but 'twould be the height of folly. Marriage is the one and only thing which might sap away the true love which otherwise will last us a life-time. Once we were tied I vow we'd be hating one another within a year."

"Nay. I'll not believe it. We have so many interests in common, and never know a single dull moment when in one another's company. Even when passion faded we'd have a wealth of joyous things to do together."

"Be truthful, Roger," she chided him gently. "Although I have been your mistress only for some five months you have already come to take me for granted, and there are now times when you are just a little bored with me."

"I deny it," he cried hotly.

" 'Tis so, m'dear. Why did you ask me to invite your friend Lord Edward Fitz-Deverel down this week-end, if not because I am no longer capable of retaining your whole attention, and you are beginning to feel the need for other interests?"

"Oh, cornel That is nonsense. Whenever you entertain you must, perforce, give much of your time to your other guests, and I have never taken the slightest umbrage over that. I simply wished Droopy Ned to see your lovely home; and to have someone to talk to, other than your father and the Duke, in order to lessen the chance of my being rude to Mr. Fox."

She laughed. "How you dislike poor Charles, don't you? Yet he is the kindest and most genial of men."

"He is amusing enough and generous to a fault. 'Tis not his company I hate, but his politics. Not a bill goes before the House but he uses his brilliant gifts and mastery of intrigue to get it thrown out—entirely regardless as to the degree of good its passage might do the country."

"That is but natural in a leader of the Opposition."

"There are times when the Government has the right to expect the co-operation of the Opposition for the well-being of the State," Roger replied warmly. "But Fox would not restrain his venomous animosity to the Ministers of the Crown even if the Cinque Ports were in jeopardy. He is the bond-slave of an ungovernable ambition and would stick at nothing to obtain office. His unholy pact with my Lord North in '83 was proof enough of that. 'Twas the most despic­able manoeuvre that has ever disgraced British politics, and why you should elect to make a friend of such a man passes my comprehension."

Georgina shrugged her ample shoulders. "I have three perfectly good reasons. Firstly, I like Charles for himself. Secondly, your idol Mr. Pitt is a boorish, uncouth recluse, who despises society; and since I cannot have the Prime Minister at my table, the next best thing is the leader of the Opposition. Thirdly, Mr. Pitt's reign cannot last in­definitely, and when he falls Charles will become the occupant of Number Ten. Then, Roger, my love, I'll be able to make you Paymaster of the Forces—as I promised I would when you were fifteen."

"You are wrong about Mr. Pitt," Roger smiled, his good humour restored. "He is very shy, but neither boorish nor uncouth; and while your Mr. Fox is making pretty speeches to the ladies at Carlton House, or gambling thousands a night away at Brook's, Mr. Pitt is at his desk, working into the small hours for the good of the nation. As for your offer of the most lucrative post in the Kingdom, I am mightily obliged; but rather than accept it from the hands of Charles James Fox I would prefer to starve in the gutter."