Читать книгу Waif of the River - John Jeffery Farnol - Страница 22

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They were in the arbour, and Robin sat as though enthralled, for she had taken off her shady bonnet, and thus he beheld hair of the exact and only proper colour, that is to say, richly yellow as ripe corn, silky, lustrous, Clia-like; while the Viscount gazed in awed rapture at a face of singular beauty made lovely also by its inherent gentleness. Furthermore he was aware of a form whose shapeliness her high-waisted robe displayed with her every graceful movement....

Such (and all too briefly) was she who, throned in beauty, between these two friends, parted them one from another and, alas, in more senses than one, as, glancing from the Viscount to Robin and back again, she enquired very shyly:

"Please may I know who ... to whom I am so ... so deeply indebted and so truly grateful?"

"Well," answered Robin, laughing a little ruefully, "I think our united gratitude is due to Sam——"

"And his blunderbuss!" added the Viscount.

"However," said Robin, "I take pleasure to present my friend, and your other humble servant, Mortimer Randolf Deverill, Viscount Ragworth, known to his intimates as 'Rags and Bones' or merely 'Rags'."

"Precisely!" said the Viscount, bowing. "And it is my pleasure to present Mr. Robert Dale, commonly known as 'Robin' or merely 'Rob'."

"And I," said she, glancing at Robin again but gazing at the Viscount, "I—in whose defence you—you were both willing to shed your blood, I am Rosemary Phyllinda Meredith, called by—by those who love me, 'Linda' or simply 'Phyl'; and because in this short time you have proved such good, kind friends, I would have you call me just plain 'Phyl'."

"Impossible!" said the Viscount instantly.

"Quite!" said Robin.

"Oh? Pray—why?"

"Because," answered Robin, "you never could be."

"Plain!" said the Viscount.

At this, and for the first time, she laughed, then shook her head, saying:

"I suppose I should inform you why I ran away."

"There is no need!" said Robin.

"Not the least!" added the Viscount.

"Oh, but I ought to, I should like to, so I will—if you will allow me to. May I?"

"Of course!" answered Robin.

"I shall be honoured!" said the Viscount.

"Well then, I—I fled my detested guardian Count Hugo because I was afraid he would terrify me into—marriage with his even more detestable brother Claude, who—oh, who——"

"Is no fit husband for such as you!" said Robin.

"Not to be thought of!" added the Viscount.

"Oh, but he compelled me to think of it daily, hourly, ever since we left Italy, and I have always been afraid of him, and lately even more so! You see, I am not a heroine; not a bit brave like my sister Thea, who is never afraid, not even of Claude! She is as valiant as our noble father who fought and died for our dear England——"

"Then all honour to him!" said Robin.

"Amen!" the Viscount responded.

"And because my sister is so fearless she planned our escape and fought Claude off with the oar and rowed away along the dark river to London. I should be with her now if only I could be more like her and not such a dreadful, silly coward as I am!"

"And pray," enquired the Viscount gently, "where should you have sought refuge?"

"With our dear father's old friend, the Duchess of Camberhurst."

"And, by jingo," exclaimed Robin, "from all accounts you could never find a more powerful champion, eh, Rags? You know her grace, don't you?"

"Yes, she is my father's age-long friend also."

"And a regular fire-eating, formidable old lady, eh, old Rags and Bones?"

"The Guards at Waterloo, m' dear fellah, the Light Brigade in the Peninsular, the pick of Nelson's fighting crews at Trafalgar, mix 'em up, boil 'em down, and you have—Her Grace of Camberhurst!"

"She sounds rather—awful!" sighed Phyllinda.

"She does," smiled the Viscount reassuringly, "and she is, but only when necessary. But do you not know her, Miss Phyllinda?"

"No, and neither does Thea. Oh, how I wish we did. All we do know is that she is now in London—a place called Saint James's Square. And this is why I am becoming so terribly, terribly anxious, because if Thea ever arrived there safely, why—oh, why have I had no word, no news of her all these days? Why?"

"The question is," said Robin, instinctively changing the subject, "what of yourself?"

"I don't know," she sighed, with hopeless gesture. "I drove this far in the phaeton, but Claude has taken it and with all my money and other things in it, so here I am penniless and destitute."

"That need cause you no least anxiety," said the Viscount, "so please don't worry on that account. Our present and most pressing concern is——"

"Dinner, gen'lemen!" quoth Sam, peering in at them and touching an imaginary hat-brim. "Dinner be ready, sirs, I b'leeve, leastways so my Soosan do tell—a chicken stuffed, wi' green peas noo-picked and——"

"Joy!" exclaimed Robin, taking Phyllinda's right hand.

"Rapture!" murmured the Viscount, taking her left, though very diffidently.

"Wi' apple-pie t' foller, sirs, I b'leeve, not t' mention cream clotted and——"