The Duchess of Wrexe Part 75

II

"I must never let it happen like that again. What a state this weather can get one into...."

But he had come back to his senses. His brain was clear; he could think now. The great point was that it was of no use to think of himself in this affair. "Rachel, Rachel's the only thing that matters."

Then upon that came the decision. "That old woman's got to pay for it.

She's been wantin' to give Rachel a bad time. She's tried to. Her mouth's got to be stopped _however_ old and ill she is!"

He was fiercely, furiously indignant with her--vanished, it appeared, all his affection, the sentiment of years. "I've got to defend Rachel from her, no knowin' _whom_ she's been tellin'." Roddy still found it impossible to admit more than one idea at a time, and the idea now was that "he must stop the old lady dead."

His brain came round now to Breton, and halted there. What kind of fellow, after all, was he? What, after all, did Roddy know about him that he could so easily condemn him?

To-night, fresh from the battle with the Creature, Roddy's view of the world was painted with new colours. The man had been condemned for things that his father had done, and one recognized, here in London, how difficult it was for a fellow to climb up once he had been pushed down.

Was the man in love with Rachel? Well, Roddy did not know that he could blame him for that? ... difficult enough, surely, for anyone not to be.

But _was_ he? What, after all, was he like?

Then swiftly the answer came to him. See the man.... Talk to him ...

know him. He stared at the idea, felt already new energy in his bones and a surging victory over the lethargy of this awful evening at the suggestion of some definite action.

But see him, yes, and see him here and see him soon. His impatience leapt now hotly upon him; he pulled Jacob's ears. "That's the ticket, old boy, ain't it? See what kind of a ruffian this is! My word, but wouldn't the old lady hate it if she knew?"

But, and at this the room flared with the thrill of it, why not have her here to meet him? Confront her with him.

He was cool now. Here was matter that needed careful handling. Still as vigorous now as in his most active days was his impatience. Was something in the way, cobwebs, barriers, obstacles of any sort? Brush them aside, beat them down!

Here was a plan. Here, too, most happily at hand, was the d.u.c.h.ess's punishment.

All these years had the old lady been refusing to set eyes upon her grandson, therefore, how dramatic would it be were she confronted with him unexpectedly. Out of the heart of that meeting would come most a.s.suredly the truth about Rachel.

There, in a flash, solid, substantial, beautifully compact, magnificently splendid his plan lay before him. He would have them there. Rachel, the d.u.c.h.ess, this Breton, all of them there before him.

They should come ignorant, unprepared, Breton first, then Rachel, then the d.u.c.h.ess.

Having them there he would quite simply say that someone had been pouring into his ears a story of friends.h.i.+p to which he might take objection.

He would then, very quietly.... But here he paused. Oh! he knew what he would do. He smiled at the thought of the success of his plan.

When he had made his little speech to them all there would never again be any danger of scandal. The old lady would never again have any single word to say.

The thought that Rachel might be angry at his deceptive plot did not disturb him. When she had heard his little speech she would not say that--and here, suddenly, he knew how deeply, in his heart, he trusted her.

But what if, after all, it should be a lie on the old lady's part? Was he not doing wrong to take things so far without a question to anyone else, Christopher or Lizzie Rand?

But this was Roddy. Here both his pride and his impatience were concerned. He did not wish that the business should pa.s.s beyond its present bounds. He could not go from person to person asking them whether they trusted his wife. And then he could not wait. Here was a plan that killed the danger at one blow, something direct, open, with sharply defined issues. Oh! Rachel should see how he loved her!

"All these days," he said to Jacob, "I've been worryin' about her, but I knew--yes, I knew--that she was comin' to me all right." He thought of a day long before and of Miss Nita Raseley and of a meeting in the garden.

"I'll show her that I can forgive, too, if it's necessary. Not because I care so little, but, by G.o.d, because I care so much. No," he thought, shaking his head over it, "she doesn't love me, not yet. But she's beginnin' to belong to me. She's coming."

There was also the thought that the d.u.c.h.ess was an old, sick woman and that the scene might be too much for her strength. "Not she," he grimly decided, "that's the kind of thing she lives on. Anyway, I owe her one.

Didn't do her any harm comin' to me the other day, won't do her any harm now. _I_ know her."

His scheme must be carried out at once. He felt that he could not wait a moment. He would have liked to have had them all there, before him, to-night.

"Why, by this time to-morrow, old boy, it will all be straight. Thank G.o.d, my brain cleared, in spite of this d.a.m.n weather."

He rang the bell and Peters, large, solemn, but bending a loving eye upon his master, appeared.

"Writing things, Peters."

He wrote swiftly two notes.

"Very close to-night, sir."

"Yes, Peters, very."

"You're looking better, sir ... less tired. Your dinner will be up in a quarter of an hour. Nice omelette, nice little bird, nice fruit salad, sardines on toast."

"Thank you, Peters, I'm hungry as--as anything."

"Very glad to hear it, sir."

"I want these two notes sent by hand instantly, do you see?"

"Yes, Sir Rod'rick."

"At once."

"Yes, Sir Rod'rick."

Roddy lay back and surveyed the black sky.

"Nasty storm comin' up--look here, Peters, give me that bird book over there. That big one. Thanks."

Peters retired.

III

Meanwhile Her Grace had found this close evening very trying. That visit to Roddy had not harmed her physically, but had made her restless. The very fact that it had not hurt her, urged her to have more of such evenings. Having shown them once what she could do she would like to show them all again, and yet with this new energy was also lethargy so that she sat, thinking about her adventures, but felt that it would be difficult to move.

Then this thundery afternoon really did drag the strength from her. She allowed her fire to fall into a few golden coals, she allowed Dorchester to move her from her high-back chair on to a sofa that was near the wide window, now flung open. She could see roofs, chimneys, towers of churches, all dingy grey beneath the leaden sky.

She lay there, a book on her lap, but not reading; she was thinking of Roddy. For perhaps the very first time in all her life she regretted something that she had done. n.o.body but Roddy could have called this regret out of her and now, she would confess it to no living soul, but she lay there, thinking about it, remembering every movement and gesture of his, seeing always that, at the end, he had wanted her to go, had, as her sharp old eyes had seen, hurried her away.

There had been so splendid a chance, she had shown her love for him so magnificently that he could not but have been touched and moved had she only left Rachel alone. Ah! that girl! again, again.... The d.u.c.h.ess looked at the plain roofs that lay dry and sterile beneath the torrid sky and wished, not by any means for the first time, that she had left that marriage with Roddy alone.

Roddy would have married some other girl, Nita Raseley or such, and he would have been mine ... mine!