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Authors: Dennis Wheatley

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BOOK: The Shadow of Tyburn Tree
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‘Nay, I will not be rushed into yielding on a wave of emotion,' she declared with sudden firmness. ‘You must grant me,
Monsieur, the next half hour to make up my mind while I undress. You may return then if you wish to put out the lights and learn my decision.'

His flushed face broke into a smile and, stepping back, he made her a low bow. ‘With that, Madame, I rest content. Unless your heart is made of stone, April the first will now prove to be the happiest dawn that I have ever known.'

Her nerves were still taut, and as he turned away, she gave a little semi-hysterical laugh. ‘ 'Twould be unwise to count on anything on such a date; for 'tis All Fools' Day.'

Evidently he guessed that she had made the silly joke in an effort to recover her normal poise, since he did not reply but crossed the boudoir without even a glance over his shoulder; and a moment later she heard the door click as he let himself out into the corridor.

With a breathless sigh she sat down at her dressing-table and began to unpin the golden headdress. Standing up again she stripped off the gay wedding costume and slipped on her filmy night robe; then she settled herself before her mirror once more.

For a moment she remained quite still, regarding the lovely image of herself. She was still in the first flush of her beauty; not even the suggestion of a wrinkle marred her skin, and with her abounding health, she saw no reason why they should do so for many years to come. Slowly she gave her face the few touches that it needed with the hare's foot and the powder-puff; then she combed through her lustrous black hair, and very conscious that this was no night to do it up in curlpapers, re-arranged it with a blue satin bow together her curls in a cluster at the back of her neck.

Dousing the candles on the dressing-table, she walked through to the boudoir and put the lights out there. On her way back she left the door ajar, then removed the big copper warming pan from the bed and wriggled down into its soft, warm depths.

The room was lit now only by the glow of the dying fire and the fat, shaded night-light beside the bed.

Georgina turned on her back and stretched luxuriously, then she relaxed and lay staring up at the draped canopy of the great four-poster.

Her thoughts were still a little chaotic. She was somehow more certain than ever now that she had never really intended to commit herself tonight, and she realised that it was only Roger's stupidity at the card-table that had led her into doing so. Yet she could not find it in her heart to blame him. Such a loss of his normally well-balanced head could only
have been caused by some secret disturbance that was going on inside it, and for that there could be only one explanation—her own jilting of him without adequate preparation.

It occurred to her now that she ought to have sent him away a few days ago and said nothing of Vorontzoff's projected visit. He would have gone quite cheerfully then, knowing well enough that in due course she would take another lover, yet still retaining his romantic feelings for her. It grieved her now to think that she had hurt and offended him quite unnecessarily.

This was not the first time that she had had to reproach herself with the results of her besetting sin, which was demanding too much of life. That was the trouble; she always wanted to eat her cake and keep it too. In her heart of hearts she had known perfectly well that Roger would take the Russian's overtures to her badly, yet she had not been sufficiently strong-minded either to send him away or refuse Fox's request that she should invite the Ambassador down for this week-end. She knew too that the reason for that was not far to seek. In spite of the occasional tiffs that had crept into her intimacy with Roger, she was still physically in love with him and wanted him to stay on at Stillwaters with her through the spring.

She was already wishing that it was he who would be coming to her in a few moments now. She loved to gaze her fill into those deep blue eyes and feel his strong arms hold her close. He was such a marvellous lover too, because he had such a happy nature. When roused his passion matched her own, but at times he could be very gentle, and he teased her deliciously. She had never known another man who could bring such an element of merriment to his love-making.

But in a fit of temper she had forbidden Roger her room, and the evening's events had made it quite certain that he would not risk a fresh humiliation by ignoring her prohibition. By now he was either asleep or tossing restlessly in his bed, a prey to bitter, angry thoughts about her. For a moment she thought of getting up and going in to him, but she dismissed the idea almost as soon as it arose. To do so now might result in a most appalling scene culminating in a duel. It was too late now to undo the web of her own spinning in which she had entangled herself. She must stop thinking about Roger and think about the strange, dark, violent man who was coming to her instead.

She had forced him to give her half an hour's respite and insisted that her mind was not yet made up; but she knew full well that on his return that would count for nothing. There
was no escape now from the grasp of those strong, square-fingered hands, and the avid mouth that had crushed itself against hers so fiercely. He was considerably older than any lover that she had previously taken but she felt certain that he did not lack virility. Perhaps, just as she had first thought, his very strangeness would prove terribly exciting. She had not relished his hot flat face being pressed against her own, yet she had given way before to men who had attracted her less, in order to satisfy her curiosity. In any case she had made her bed and must now lie upon it. She wondered then how long he would remain with her, and with a sinking heart recalled his mentioning the dawn. In vain she sought to fight off the conviction that she would hate him before the morning.

A soft footfall caught her ear, followed by the gentle closing of a door. She gave a start, then quickly shut her eyes and stilled her breathing as though she had fallen asleep. It was a last poor little effort at defence on the slender chance that, finding her so, he would grant her a reprieve and refrain from waking her. Yet she knew all the time that it was childish to think for an instant that such a scruple would induce him to forego his victory.

The footsteps drew nearer. They crossed the soft carpet and halted beside the bed. For a moment that seemed to her of almost unendurable length nothing happened. She could hear her heart thumping wildly; a lump was rising in her throat. She felt that unless the tension ended in another instant she would scream.

Then a quiet voice said: ‘ 'Tis a pleasant change to find you without your hair done up in curl papers.'

‘Roger!' She started up on her elbow; her eyes wide, the blood draining from her face, as she gasped. ‘What brings you here?'

‘To see that you were well, happy, and to wish you a good night,' he replied lightly.

‘But I forbade you to come!'

‘As a lover, perhaps; but you have not withdrawn from me the privilege of a brother.'

‘ 'Tis no time for splitting straws,' she said in a fierce whisper. ‘You must go—go instantly.'

‘Why this perturbation?' he smiled. ‘And your prodigious eagerness to be rid of me?'

‘Because—because Vorontzoff's coming back, and will be here at any moment. If he finds you here …' her voice trailed away on a note of panic.

‘And what if he did?'

‘Oh, are you mad?' She sat up and wrung her hands. ‘Spare
me, I beg, a brawl in my own room! Or worse! He may challenge you to a duel in which one of you might be killed.'

‘Nothing would please me better than the chance to spit him like the conceited turkey-cock he is. It made my gall rise till it near choked me to see the way in which he treated you as if already you were his, this evening.'

‘Oh, Roger, please!' she begged. ‘I have been at fault, I know. I did not originally intend to bring matters to a head this weekend. I swear it! If I have hurt you 'tis I who am paying for it now. I would with all my heart that I could stop his coming. But 'tis too late. Add not to my distress by creating soma dreadful scene that may end in tragedy.'

‘So you would stop his coming if you could?'

‘Yes, yes. But that is of little moment. 'Twill be no more than
un mauvais quart d'heure
; then I'll get rid of him. What matters is that he should not find you here, Leave me. I implore you!'

He smiled down at her. ‘Then it seems that I have been able to render you a service. You may set your mind at rest m'dear, regarding this meeting that you now find distasteful, Count Vorontzoff will not be returning to you tonight.'

‘Roger!' she cried, starting forward in fresh panic. ‘What have you done?'

‘I left him but five minutes back; having delivered a message purporting to come from you.'

‘From me?'

‘Yes. I had the door of my room open a crack and saw him leave your boudoir after a bare ten minutes. 'Twas a sack of peas to a million pounds that he would not count so short a conversation adequate payment for my I.O.U.; and by the smile upon his conceited face I guessed that you must have given him permission to return. So I went to him and paid my debt. Then I told him that, since you were no longer under an obligation to him, you had exercised a lady's privilege of changing her mind, and had desired me to inform him that you would dispense with his attendance.'

‘You paid your debt! But how?'

‘I went first to Droopy; who gave me a draft on sight at Coutts for the money. The Russian could not refuse to accept it.'

‘But—but your debt was not the only thing which caused me to commit myself,' she stammered. ‘I could easily have found three hundred for you next week. I had made a bargain with him to give Charles Fox his political support. I do confess it. Oh, Roger, he may yet come back on that account.'

‘Nay, he will not. I guessed that you would do that, and 'tis
for me now to confess that I took drastic measures to ensure against it. When I handed him the draft I drew his attention to the date.'

‘What!' Georgina gasped. ‘And 'tis April the first.'

‘You have it, sweet!' Roger began to titter. ‘I told him that you and I had been leading him on the whole evening, and that we had made of him our this year's first April Fool.'

‘Roger, you didn't!' Suddenly her sense of humour got the better of her, and throwing up her hands she began to rock with laughter.

For over a minute they chortled with childish glee. Then, as she wiped the tears from her eyes, she exclaimed:

‘Oh, darling, you'll be the death of me. But how did the poor man take it?'

‘Badly, I fear,' Roger admitted. ‘He went as white as a sheet, and I hoped that he would call me out. But he refrained, and merely remarked sarcastically that, in time, no doubt, he would learn how to adapt himself to our English sense of humour'

‘You were right to term it a drastic measure,' Georgina said more soberly. ‘ 'Tis an injury that he will not forget, and I'll swear to it that he has a vengeful nature. Henceforth we must beware of him and take all measures possible to guard against his enmity.'

Roger shrugged. ‘I can take good care of myself, and you have no cause to worry. Tomorrow you can be huffy with him and avoid a
tête-à-tête
. On Monday morning, before he leaves, give him an opening for an explanation. Ask him why he failed to return here tonight, and when he tells you be wide-eyed with pretended ignorance. Throw the whole thing on me, and vow that I alone was the cause of this
contretemps
. 'Tis no departure from the truth. Then you can give him an assignation for later in London, or not, just as you please.'

‘That will not serve,' she shook her head. Tonight, as so often is the case, our minds must have been
en rapport
, or 'twas by the merest fluke. But the very last remark I made to him before he left this room was to the effect that it being after midnight, we were in All Fools' Day. He'll not have forgotten that, and nothing will ever persuade him now that I was not a party to your plot.'

‘It seems that I have caused you to lose him for good, then. For that I ask your pardon; and I hope that it will give you no serious regret.'

‘Nay. I fear that poor Charles Fox will be gravely disappointed; but he knew to begin with that he could count on me only if I found that my inclinations marched with his
interests. As for myself, you were right in contending that I might scratch a Russian and find a Tartar. Russian women may like such violent haudling by their lovers, but I find that I have a preference for quieter ways. I am not easily scared, but, I'll confess now, that I was more than a little frightened by the thought of his coming back to me tonight.'

‘God be thanked, then, that it occurred to me to go to Droopy.'

Georgina suddenly sat forward from her pillows. ‘Roger! I had forgotten! By doing so you have made yourself liable for this wretched debt again.'

‘ 'Tis true,' he answered, with a rueful smile. ‘But I shall repay Droopy just as I had intended to pay the Russian. I can still collect my money from the funds, and sell my mare and other things.'

A look of great tenderness came over her face, as she said: ‘Oh, Roger, darling! You make me feel monstrous mean in having treated you so. I have but this moment realised that, though we have been lovers for five long months, you have given a whole year's income to spend another night with me. Never in my life have I been paid so great a compliment, and never shall again.'

His blue eyes twinkled. ‘Am I then restored to favour, and, about to spend the night with you?'

‘How can you ask?' Her glowing smile was in itself an embrace.

‘You have been such a wicked baggage that I'm not sure I want to,' he teased her.

‘Beast!' she cried. ‘When I have you here I'll pay you out for that.'

‘I have not decided yet if I've a mind to play proxy to your earlier visitor.'

BOOK: The Shadow of Tyburn Tree
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