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She remembered remarks made by Olivia which had puzzled her. Drawing an audible breath, she said: ‘It does not signify. I understand you, I suppose. Jack wishes her to be his mistress. And you—loving her as you say you do!—will permit this?’
He raised his head, saying hotly: ‘What can I do? Do you imagine that madame her mother would for one little instant entertain my suit, if she knew the truth? That I have neither title nor fortune! That my father is the proprietor of a maison de jeu—what you call a gaming-house!’
‘Good God!’ said Kitty, rather faintly. ‘D-does Olivia know this?’
‘She knows all! Could you believe me capable of deceiving one whom I worship? Of stealing her from her mother à la derobée? No! I am not so infamous! I do not conceal from you that I came to England an adventurer! It is known that if one is of—of bonne tenue, bien né, riche, and above all French—c’est drôle, ça!—one may be bien-venu in London! To be French, that bestows upon one a cachet!—It is known, then, that with these qualities one may do very well in England.’ He spread out his hands. ‘De plus, in my childhood I lived here. I know England; I can speak the language with fluency. Perhaps I have not always the right idiom, or the accent, but that, chère Kitty, is regarded by the English as fort attrayant!’
‘Yes, but I don’t understand. Did you—did you come to England to marry an heiress?’ asked Kitty wonderingly.
‘To seek my fortune, let us say.’
‘Lady Maria? Camille, was it to pay your addresses to her that you came?’
‘Ah, no! My meeting with Lady Maria was a coup de bonheur. Naturally, I am interested in ladies of large fortune, but of her existence I did not know until I was presented to her.’
This frank exposition of his aims very much shocked Miss Charing. She uttered a protest. ‘Oh, pray do not—! Surely you cannot mean to offer for Lady Maria! How could you bear to be married to her? I cannot believe it of you!’
‘Marriage!’ he said, smiling. ‘My dear little cousin, do you think that that would be permitted? If she would consent—eh bien, one must resign oneself! But I find her a woman insufferably proud, and I think she could not support the mortific
ation of having so plainly encouraged the advances of one who is not—how shall I say?—a chevalier d’honneur, but a chevalier d’industrie.’
She gazed at him uncomprehendingly. ‘No, indeed! I think she would die of shame! But—’
‘She would wish the so-fascinating Chevalier to depart from England without scandal, is it not so? Well, that could be arranged.’
She was by this time so much shocked and distressed that she could only find voice enough to say: ‘Olivia knows this? You have told her?’
‘I have told her!’ he said, with a groan. ‘But just now! It was necessary: I could not continue—! You must understand that I have for her a passion, a devotion, which makes it impossible that it should deceive her!’
‘Oh, I wish to heaven I had never made you known to her!’ Kitty exclaimed. ‘This is dreadful! I perceived, when she came back to the box, that she was suffering from some agitation, but that it could be as bad as this I had not the least apprehension!’
‘Believe me,’ he said earnestly, ‘it was not à dessein that I engaged her affection! When first I saw her I was carried beyond myself—I did not consider—I had never imagined to myself that I should ever meet one who so exactly fulfilled the dreams a man of sensibility must make for himself! Bécasse! I should have acted with resolution. I allowed myself to be transported. When I tore myself away, I believed I was the only sufferer. But when, after so many days of misery, I received her billet, and yielded to the temptation of seeing her again, it was made plain to me that I had wounded her. She asked me, as you did, if I was troubled. What would you? I told her that I was not what she thought me to be, but a gamester, one on whom she would never be permitted to bestow her hand! She saw that there could be no hope for either of us. You may say that we have received our death-blows!’
She was easily able to refrain from making any such remark. In a tone of considerable censure, she said: ‘Good God, Camille, how could you distress her so? Surely you would have done better to have held your tongue—to have made up your mind not to see her again?’
‘I could not!’ he replied. ‘Would you have had me allow her think that she had bestowed her heart upon a mere coquet?’
‘Yes, indeed I would!’ said Kitty. ‘I daresay she would very soon have forgotten all about you. But now—! Oh, what a shocking tangle it is! I don’t know what to say! I wish you will take me back to the box!’
He rose at once. ‘I will do so. And you? I am at your mercy!’
She said crossly: ‘If you mean, shall I tell the world that you are an—an impostor, no, I shall not! You must perceive how reluctant I must be to see my own cousin exposed in such a way. In fact, I expect you were very well-aware of that when you disclosed the truth to me!’
He replied, with a faint smile: ‘C’est ce qui saute aux yeux, enfin!’
‘You are quite abominable!’ she told him.
He began to walk with her down the corridor. ‘I know it, alas!’
She was too much mortified to make any reply. They proceeded in silence for a moment or two, and might have exchanged no further remarks had not a most unwelcome sight suddenly presented itself. Strolling towards them, a masked lady in a black domino on his arm, his own mask dangling by its strings from his hand, was Mr Westruther. ‘Oh, good God!’ Kitty exclaimed involuntarily. ‘Put your mask on, for heaven’s sake, Camille!’
‘It is too late: he has seen me,’ he responded quietly. ‘It is no matter: he will not recognize you. Do not speak!’
The advancing couple halted before them. ‘My very dear friend the Chevalier!’ said Mr Westruther. ‘Now, what an agreeable surprise!’ His penetrating eyes ran over Kitty’s form, and remained fixed on her face. His brows lifted a little, and to her annoyance she knew herself to be blushing. ‘Dear me!’ he said, a note of amusement in his voice. ‘May I hazard a guess, or would that be indiscreet?’
The Chevalier returned a light answer; but Kitty was staring at the lady on Mr Westruther’s arm. She had untied the strings of her black domino, and it fell apart to reveal a gown of lilac silk and gauze which Kitty knew well. The discovery that Mr Westruther had brought her cousin Meg clandestinely to the masquerade seemed to her to set the crowning touch to an evening of unalleviated mortification. She lost her temper. ‘Indiscreet? No, how should it be?’ she said, with unusual asperity. ‘To be sure, it is quite a family-party! For goodness’ sake, Meg, keep your domino closely tied, if you don’t wish to be recognized! I daresay half London must know that dreadful lilac dress, for nothing that Freddy, or Mallow, or I can say to you serves to convince you that it is not at all becoming to you!’
‘Kitty!’ gasped Meg, clutching Mr Westruther’s arm. ‘Good God, what can have possessed you to come to this place? It is most improper in you!’
