Charles Rex by Ethel May Dell (easy readers .TXT) 📖

arm.
"It is--you who are--_ennuye_!" she said, with piteous eyes upraised.
He flicked her cheek with his thumb, his odd eyes gleaming. "Not so, _Miladi_ Saltash! For me--the game is just begun. But--should you desire to leave me--the opportunity is yours. A knight has arrived to the rescue--a very puissant knight!"
"A knight!" gasped Toby, trembling. "Ah! Tell me what you mean!"
His look was openly mocking. "A knight in gaiters!" he told her lightly. "A knight who bears--or should bear--a horsewhip in place of a sword--that is, if I know him aright!"
"Jake!" she gasped incredulously.
He laughed afresh. "Even so! Jake! Most worthy--and most obtrusive! What shall we do with him, lady mine? Slay him--or give him a feed and send him home?"
She stared at him, aghast. "You--you--you are joking!" she stammered.
"I always joke when I am most serious," Saltash assured her.
"Oh, don't!" She clung closer to his arm. "What shall we do? He--he can't do anything, can he? We--we--we really are married, aren't we?"
Saltash's most appalling grimace fled like a hunted goblin across his face. "Married? Heavens, child! What more do you want? Haven't you seen it--actually seen it--in our greatest London daily? And can a London daily lie? You may have dreamed the wedding, but that paragraph--that paragraph--it takes a genius of the first literary degree to dream a paragraph, though it may only need quite an ordinary fool to write it! Why, what is the matter? What is it? Did you see something? Not a mouse? Not a beetle? I prithee, not a beetle!"
For Toby had suddenly hidden her face against his shoulder and there was actual panic in the clinging of her arms. He laid a hand upon her head, and patted it lightly, admonishingly.
She did not speak for a second or two, only gulped with desperate effort at self-restraint. Then, at length, in a muffled voice, "Don't let him take me away!" she besought him shakily. "You--you--you've promised to keep me--now."
"But, of course I'm keeping you," said Saltash. "It's what I did it for. It's the very essence of the game. Cheer up, Nonette! I'm not parting with any of my goods, worldly or otherwise, this journey."
"You are sure?" whispered Toby. "Sure?"
"Sure of what?" He bent swiftly, and for a second, only a second, his lips touched her hair.
"Sure you--don't--want to?" came in a gasp from Toby, as she burrowed a little deeper.
"Oh, that!" Saltash stood up again, and his face was sardonic, for the moment almost grim. "Yes, quite sure of that, my dear. Moreover,--it will amuse me to meet the virtuous Jake on his own ground for once. A new sensation, Nonette! Will you help me to face him? Or do you prefer the more early-Victorian _role_ of the lady who retires till the combat is over and then emerges to reward the winner?"
She lifted her head at that, and uttered a scoffing little laugh, withdrawing herself abruptly from his support. Her pointed chin went up with a hint of defiance. All signs of agitation were gone. "I'll stay and help you," she said.
He made her an elaborate bow. "Then we will ring up the curtain. I congratulate you, madam, upon your spirit. I trust the interview will not try your fortitude too far. Remember, should your feminine ears be shocked by anything that may pass between us, it is up to you to retire at any moment."
Toby's blue eyes caught sudden fire. She broke into an unexpected chuckle. "I do not think I am likely to retire for that reason, _monseigneur_," she said. "Where is he? How did you know he was coming?"
"Because he is already here," said Saltash. "I passed him at the office, making enquiries. He had his back to me, but there is no mistaking that bull-neck of his. Ah!" He turned his head sharply. "I hear a step outside! Sit down, _mignonne_! Sit down and be dignified!"
But Toby's idea of dignity was to sit on the corner of the table and swing one leg. If any apprehension lingered in her mind, she concealed it most successfully. She looked like an alert and mischievous boy.
There came a knock at the door, and for a moment her eyes sought Saltash. He grinned back derisively, and pulled out his cigarette-case. "_Entrez!_" he called.
The door opened with a flourish. A waiter entered with a card.
Saltash barely looked at him. His eyes flashed beyond to the open doorway. "You can come in," he remarked affably. "We've been expecting you for some time."
Jake entered. His square frame seemed to fill the space between the door-posts. He was empty-handed, but there was purpose--grim purpose--in every line of him.
Saltash dismissed the waiter with a jerk of the eyebrows. He was utterly unabashed, amazingly self-assured. He met Jake's stern eyes with cheery effrontery.
"Quite like old times!" he commented. "The only difference being, my good Jake, that on this occasion I have reached the winning-post first."
Jake's look went beyond him to the slight figure by the table. Toby was on her feet. Her face was flushed, but her eyes were wide and defiant. He regarded her steadily for several seconds before, very deliberately, he transferred his attention to Saltash, who nonchalantly awaited his turn, tapping the cigarette on the lid of his case with supreme indifference.
Jake spoke, his voice soft as a woman's, yet strangely dominating. "I should like two minutes alone with you--if you can spare them."
Saltash was smiling. His glance shot towards Toby, and came back to Jake with a certain royal arrogance that held its own without effort. "In other words, you wish--Lady Saltash--to leave us?" he questioned easily.
"I'm not going," said Toby quickly, with nervous decision.
Her hands were tightly clasped in front of her. She stood as one strung to the utmost limit of resistance.
Jake did not again look at her. His eyes were upon Saltash, and they never wavered. "Alone with you," he repeated, with grim insistence.
Saltash regarded him curiously. His mouth twitched mockingly as he put the cigarette between his lips. He held out the case to Jake in mute invitation.
Jake's look remained fixed. He ignored the action, and the case snapped shut in Saltash's hand with a sharp sound that seemed to denote a momentary exasperation. But Saltash's face still retained the monkey-like expression of calculated mischief habitual to it.
"Bunny with you?" he enquired casually, producing a match-box.
"No." Very quietly came Jake's answer. "I have come to see you--alone."
Saltash lighted his cigarette, and blew a careless cloud of smoke. "Are you proposing to shoot me?" he asked, after a pause.
"No," said Jake grimly. "Shooting's too good for you--men like you."
Saltash laughed, and blew another cloud of smoke. "That may be why I have survived so long," he remarked. "I don't see the horsewhip either. Jake, my friend, you are not rising to the occasion with becoming enthusiasm. Any good offering you a drink to stimulate your energies?"
"None whatever," said Jake, still very quietly. "I don't go--till I have what I came for--that's all. Neither do you!"
"I--see!" said Saltash.
An odd little gleam that was almost furtive shone for a second in his eyes and was gone. He turned and crossed the room to Toby.
"My dear," he said, "I think this business will be more quickly settled if you leave us."
She looked at him piteously. He took her lightly by the arm, and led her to a door leading to an adjoining room. "By the time you have smoked one cigarette," he said, "I shall be with you again."
She turned with an impulsive attempt to cling to him. "You'll--keep me?" she said, through trembling lips.
He made a royal gesture that frustrated her with perfect courtesy. "Are you not my wife?" he said.
He opened the door for her, and she had no choice but to go through. She went swiftly, without another glance, and Saltash closed the door behind her.


CHAPTER II
THE VILLAIN SCORES

"Now, sir!" said Saltash, and turned. His tone was brief; the smile had gone from his face. He came to Jake with a certain haughtiness, and stood before him.
Jake squared his shoulders. "So--you've married her!" he said.
"I have." There was a note of challenge in the curt rejoinder. Saltash's brows were drawn.
"I should like to see--proof of that," Jake said, after a moment.
"The devil you would!" Again the hot gleam shone in the odd eyes. Saltash stood for a second in the attitude of a man on the verge of violence. Then, contemptuously, he relaxed.
He lounged back against the mantel-piece and smoked his cigarette. "The devil you would, Jake!" he said again, in a tone so different that the words might have been uttered in another language. "And why--if one be permitted to ask?"
"I think you know why," Jake said.
"Oh, do I? You virtuous people are always the first to suspect evil." Saltash spoke with deliberate cynicism. "And suppose the marriage is not genuine--as you so politely hint--what then, my worthy Jake? What then?"
Jake faced him unwaveringly. "If not," he said, "she goes back with me."
Saltash's eyes suddenly flashed to his, but he did not alter his position. "Sure of that?" he asked casually.
"Sure!" said Jake.
"And if I refuse to part with her? If she refuses to go?"
"Either way," said Jake immovably.
"And why?" Saltash straightened suddenly. "Tell me why! What in hell has it got to do with you?"
"This," said Jake. "Just the fact that she's a girl needing protection and that I--can give it."
"Are you so sure of that?" gibed Saltash. "I think you forget, don't you, that I was her first protector? No one--not even Bunny--could have got near her without my consent."
"She was your find right enough," Jake admitted. "I always knew that--knew from the first you'd faked up a lie about her. But I hoped--I even believed--that you were doing it for her sake--not your own."
"Well?" flung Saltash. "And if I was?"
"And if you were," said Jake, "it was a thing worth doing--worth sticking to. Bunny is a respectable citizen. He'd have married her--made her happy."
Saltash's mouth twisted. "Bunny had his chance--missed it," he said. "He'll know better next time. I'm not troubling about Bunny. He didn't deserve to win."
"And so you decided to play him a damn trick and cut him out?" said Jake.
Saltash snapped his fingers. "I did my best for him, but I couldn't push him through against his will. Why didn't he come after her when he found she had gone? Didn't he know where to look?"
"Just because he knew," said Jake.
Saltash moved abruptly. "Damnation! You shall have what you've come for. If seeing is believing--then you shall believe--that even Charles Burchester can protect a girl at a pinch from the snares of the virtuous!" He pulled an envelope from an inner pocket, and flung it with a passionate gesture upon the table in front of Jake.
Jake's eyes, red-brown and steady, marked the action and contemplated him thereafter for several silent seconds. Then, at length, very slowly. "Maybe--after all--I don't need to see, my lord," he said. "Maybe--I've made a mistake."
He spoke with the utmost quietness, but his manner had undergone a change. It held a hint of deference. He made no move to touch the envelope upon the table.
Saltash's brows went up. "Satisfied?" he questioned curtly.
"On that point, yes." Jake continued to look at him with a close and searching regard.
"Not on all points?" Saltash flicked the ash from his cigarette with a movement of exasperation.
Jake turned and slowly walked to the window. There fell a silence between them. He stood staring down upon the scene that Toby had gazed upon a little