Dennis Wheatley - The Launching of Roger Brook

In consequence, Roger surrendered himself there and then; but on his appearing before the local justices they immediately accepted bail for him, on his father's surety, at the nominal sum of one hundred guineas.

At home once more he immediately wrote a full account of his meeting with de Caylus and sent it to the Prime Minister. But the days that followed were very anxious ones. He knew better than most people the relations which now existed in such matters between England and France. Ever since the signing of the Commercial Treaty in the summer of '86 such warrants for extradition had been promptly honoured in both countries. Contrary to immemorial custom, even debtors who had fled abroad were now being returned in considerable numbers to answer to their creditors; and in a case where murder was the charge only the most exceptional circumstances were likely to hold up tiie execution of the warrant.

On the 30th he received a reply from the Prime Minister's secretary. It simply said that Mr. Pitt would be pleased if Mr. Brook would wait upon him at No. 10 at 4 o'clock in the afternoon of the 4th of November.

The letter could hardly have been more non-committal and, still feeling a considerable degree of anxiety, Roger proceeded to London on the 2nd.

*****

The 3rd of November proved to be a sunny autumn day and that afternoon Roger decided to go for a walk in Hyde Park. As he was strolling beside the drive that led towards Kensington Palace his eye roved over the handsome equipages in which numerous belles of the town were taking an airing.

Suddenly he caught sight of Georgina, being bowled along behind two high-stepping greys. At the same moment she saw him and called to her coachman to bring her barouche to a halt beside the railings. Leaning out from it, she exclaimed:

"Why! Roger Brook! Odds life! Can it in truth be you; or is it a ghost I see?"

"Nay, 'tis indeed myself!" Roger cried. "And prodigious glad I am at this chance meeting. Egad! You look more ravishing than ever."

Her billowing skirt of striped taffeta showing beneath a rich fur cloak, and her lovely face aglow from the fresh air, under a great picture hat decked with ostrich feathers, she was indeed a ravishing sight. At his words she dropped her black eyes in mock coyness and said: "I vow you flatter me, Sir. Yet I had cause to think you had quite forgotten me."

" 'Tis not so!" he protested quickly. "I swear to that. I inquired for you the first day I was home, and learned that you were then abroad. But did you never receive my letter?"

"Nay!" she cried, with sudden vehemence; her whole manner changing as she looked him squarely in the face. "Roger, thou art a very swine! Not one single line in four whole years have I had from thee!"

"Georgina," he smiled, "You have not changed one iota, and the violent variation of your moods is as bewitching as ever. But I had reason for my non-communicativeness, since in the first years I had little to tell you that was to my credit. When can we meet so that I may crave pardon for my shortcomings? for I would go on bended knee to retrieve my place in your good graces."

Her eyelashes fluttered and she pretended to become coy again. "I am a wife, Sir; and owe a duty to my husband."

Roger knew quite well that she was only acting, and he found her mummery enchanting. Playing up to it, he said: "Then needs must I seek your window, and bring a scaling ladder to it on the next dark night."

Suddenly she sat back and roared with laughter. Then, her dark eyes mocking,- she replied: "I think you are improved and show a readier wit than when last we met; and 'twould intrigue me to learn what life has made of you. For old time's sake I will cancel all my engagements this night and give you supper."

"You will!" he cried eagerly. "Where shall I wait upon you, and at what hour?"

Putting a finger to her red lips she leaned right out of the barouche, and whispered: "Be on the corner of Charles Street and St. James's Square at nine o'clock. I'll see to it that there is a plain carriage waiting there, and 'twill bring you to me."

Before he could reply she had pulled the string attached to her coachman's little finger. Then she waved her muff to Roger and gave him a glowing smile. The coachman cracked his whip and, as Roger made a gallant leg, the spanking pair of greys bore Georgina swiftly away.

For the next few hours Roger's thoughts were so full of the mysterious assignation he had been given by his first flame that it took them completely off his anxieties as to what Mr. Pitt might have to say to him the following afternoon.

Returning to Amesbury House, where he was staying with Droopy, he donned the best suit in his new wardrobe, had Droopy's barber do his hair, and availed himself of some of Droopy's most expensive scent. At a quarter to nine, malacca cane in hand and looking as fine a figure as the most exquisite French Marquis who ever graced the galleries of Versailles, he took up his position on the corner of St.

James's Square. A few minutes later a closed carriage without arms on its door panels drove up, and he got into it.

At a smart trot the vehicle carried him along to Hyde Park Corner, down the vale into Knightsbridge and out to Kensington village. There, it turned right and mounted a steep hill, then it entered the private grounds of a small villa and drew up before the porch.

The moment he had stepped out of the carriage and closed its door it turned on the gravel sweep and drove away. As he approached the porch the door opened to disclose a trim female figure. Recognising the girl as Georgina's personal maid at Highcliffe, Roger cried:

"Why, Jenny! 'Tis good to see you again. How fares it with you?"

She bobbed him a curtsey. "The better for seeing you, Mr. Brook, and well, considering the hours we keep. Milady awaits you. Sir, if you'll be pleased to follow me."

The girl crossed the hall and ushered him into a room the size of which surprised him, seeing the smallness of the house. It was very lofty; the far end of it was shut off completely by heavy red curtains falling from the ceiling to the floor. Opposite them a cheerful wood fire roared in a wide grate. Before it was set a table for two, laid with crystal, silver and white napery. On one side of the fireplace there was a big generously-cushioned sofa and on it, dressed in a low-cut crimson gown that made a perfect foil to her dark beauty, sat Georgina.

As Roger entered she regally extended her hand, on which there flashed a huge solitaire diamond, and, bowing low, he kissed it.

"Come sit by me, and tell me all about yourself," she smiled up at him.

"Nay," he declared as he sank on 'to the sofa cushions, " 'Tis the privilege of the fair sex to have their innings first; and if I am to conceal nothing from you 'twill take all of two hours to relate my story. So let us save it till after we have supped. But be pleased to tell me of this strange little house. 'Tis a most agreeable spot, but quite a way from the city. Do you live here?"

"Lud, no!" she ejaculated, "I've a mansion in St. James's Square. This is but a pied-a-terre. There is a lovely view, though, from Campden Hill, here, and 'tis no great distance from the Metropolis. I come here when I am wearied of the madding crowd, and wish to be alone."

"Only then?" Roger cocked a wicked eyebrow.

"For shame, Sir! If you let your glances imply such things I shall turn you out. 'Twas built by an artist as his studio, and now 'tis mine. I paint here when the spirit moves me."

"That sounds good cover for other amusements," he smiled, un­deterred.

"Indeed, 'tis true. Both Mr. Gainsborough and Sir Joshua Reynolds come here to give me lessons, and the rivalry between the two old gentlemen is vastly amusing. But, strap me! I do believe, Sir, from the impudent look upon your face, that you still question my veracity."