The Devil And Drusilla. Paula Marshall

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      And so she told Devenish when he visited them that afternoon to reinforce his invitation to use his chapel.

      ‘I thought that I ought to come to inform you that we shall make every effort to identify and punish the miscreants,’ he told them.

      Giles said eagerly, ‘Vobster, our head groom, believes that it may have been Luddite sympathizers at work. Even down here, he says, there are those who talk and plan sedition.’

      Devenish had surprised himself—and Rob Stammers—by finding that he needed to reassure the two ladies and young Giles that the authorities were not taking this matter lightly. He had ridden over to Lyford House as soon as he decently could, to be received with tea and muffins.

      He said soberly, ‘Oh, everyone has a different explanation, from Farmer Ramsey’s annoyance over his tithes to a prank by unnamed villagers.’

      ‘And which do you favour, sir?’ asked Giles who had, much to Devenish’s secret amusement, adopted him as a kind of honourary uncle of whom advice might be asked.

      ‘I?’ said Devenish coolly, accepting a cup of tea from Miss Faulkner, ‘Why, I favour none of them until some kind of evidence emerges which might support any of the explanations offered. So far all we have is hot air and supposition.’

      He looked across at Drusilla who was staring thoughtfully into space, ‘You seem a little engrossed, Mrs Faulkner. Forgive me for questioning you, but is that because you have something of matter to import relating to what we are discussing?’

      He was reading her mind again. Drusilla lifted her head and gave him a splendid view of a pair of candid grey eyes.

      ‘I suppose,’ she said slowly, ‘that what I am about to say may be of the order of hot air and supposition. On any other day I might have dismissed what I saw late last night as mere innocent playfulness, but after this morning’s events—who can tell?’

      Devenish leaned forward. ‘You intrigue me, madam. What exactly did you see last night?’

      Without embroidery, Drusilla told him, as soberly as she could, of the two strangers in Lyford’s grounds on the previous evening. She added, equally soberly, ‘When I questioned her this morning, my housekeeper was firmly of the opinion that I had not seen two of my servants who had broken the staff rules by leaving their beds after lights out.’

      Miss Faulkner exclaimed faintly, ‘Oh, I wonder that you could have slept after that. I am sure that I couldn’t have done.’

      ‘Ah, but Mrs Faulkner is made of sterner stuff, are you not, Mrs Faulkner?’

      Was there the usual faint tinge of mockery in his comment? Drusilla did not know. Perhaps not, because after he had leisurely demolished a muffin and the clock had ticked on in the silent room, Devenish said, ‘Would I be considered to be grossly intrusive if I asked to be allowed to visit your room so that you might show me exactly what you saw—and where?’

      ‘Or what I thought I saw,’ said Drusilla challengingly. ‘For I believe that you may be of the opinion that I might be indulging in hot air and supposition.’

      ‘Oh, you don’t think that, surely, sir?’ exclaimed Giles. ‘Why, Dru is the most sensible women I know—indeed, I would dare swear she is the only sensible woman I know.’

      Devenish’s beautiful mouth twitched. Miss Faulkner said aggrievedly, ‘You want manners, Master Giles, and, as I have often said, if you are not to go to university, then a strict tutor ought to be employed to teach you the discipline you would otherwise have learned there.’

      ‘You interest me, Miss Faulkner,’ remarked Devenish. ‘I would be happy to learn to which university you refer. None of those with which I am acquainted had much to do with teaching their undergraduates any form of discipline—quite the contrary.’

      Giles threw him a grateful glance. Miss Faulkner, who was not sure whether she had been complimented or insulted, gave a hesitant, worried smile. Seeing her discomfort, Drusilla surveyed Devenish with a measuring, judgmental eye, and said coolly, ‘Well, one thing is plain, m’lord, after that remark Giles would do well not to come to you to learn good manners—or perhaps Earls are exempt from them.’

      ‘Oh, my dear,’ gasped Miss Faulkner, ‘I am sure that Lord Devenish did not mean anything wrong by what he said.’

      ‘Oh, I am sure that he did,’ retorted Drusilla. ‘Did you not, m’lord?’

      Her own daring in thus reproaching him for mocking poor Cordelia struck Drusilla when it was far too late to retract anything which she had said. She waited for the cutting riposte which was sure to follow.

      It didn’t. Instead Devenish rose from his chair, walked over to where she sat and lifted her hand to kiss it.

      ‘You are right to rebuke me,’ he said, his voice gentle. ‘I have grown too accustomed to using my tongue to cut down those around me and who often feel unable to reply because of their lower rank. I must cease the habit.’

      He turned to the astonished Miss Faulkner who stared at him, her mouth agape. ‘Pray forgive me,’ he asked, bowing СКАЧАТЬ