Part 26 (1/2)
As she stood at the polished counter in the mercer's shop, she glanced without and saw--or thought as much--Lord Cedric himself, pale, yet stepping in full strength from a chair. She quitted the counter and hastened to the entrance and looked up and down the busy street with longing eyes. But there was no sign of my lord's handsome figure.
After securing her purchase, she repaired at once to Lord Taunton's--a kinsman of Cedric's--'twas possible he would be stopping there. But he was not.
She rode from place to place, hoping at every turn to see him; but to her chagrin she found him not, even at a certain inn in Covent Garden, where he had been wont to stay. She drove in her cream-hued coach to the Mall, but he was not to be found.
Her first act after reaching London had been to dispatch a letter posthaste to the castle, telling of her abduction by the Duke of Monmouth, who, she believed was determined to bring herself and Mistress Penwick to the King's notice, as he avowed Court was not Court without such faces. She, being so widely known and so well connected, had been allowed her freedom, on condition that she returned promptly and keep their hiding place a secret. Then came that she felt would touch Cedric.
”I overheard some converse about your Lords.h.i.+p, a hint that some knave gave thee a slight wound. Now, if this be true, if thou art hurt at all--which I cannot allow myself to think--tell me, tell me, Cedric, and I will fly from Court and all the world to thee, my sweet cousin, my playfellow, my beloved friend, now.”
This letter fortunately did not reach Cedric in time to give him a relapse, as he was on his way to London when the courier arrived at the castle.
He had drawn rein at Tabard Inn, Southwark. It ab.u.t.ted on the Thames and was opposite the city, and it suited his fancy to stop here, rather than ride into London. His business was private and not far from his present quarters. His wound had healed enough to give him no trouble, and action kept his mind easy. He had seen Constance with as fleeting a glimpse as hers had been of him. It was quite enough, however, he wis.h.i.+ng never to set eyes upon her again.
That evening he went to seek Buckingham at the Royal Palace. He had no austere regard for the pomp and splendour of the Court at best, and now he was almost unconscious of his surroundings. His azure-hued costume was magnificent in its profusion of embroidery and precious stones. There were none more handsome of face or figure. Courtiers and wits abounded, but none more courtly or witty than he, when he was moved. None bowed before his Majesty's dais with more grace, appearing more a king than he who filled the Royal chair. He erred not in the most minute detail of demeanour. There was no one in the realm that held more of his Majesty's regard.
After being detained some moments at the Royal chair, he went to seek Buckingham, whose first words smote him foolishly.
”It is said, my lord, that Love hath Cupid's wings, and I verily believe William was right, or else how couldst thou have fluttered from a couch of painful wounds to London either by chaise or a horse?
Ah!--Love is nascent; after cycles of time it may become mature enough to be introduced into Court--eh!--my lord?”
”Contemporary chronicles relate that the mind is capable of greater suffering than the body, and when both are affected, if we give precedence to the employment of the mind, the body is at once cured; hence my sound chest. Hast thou seen Sir Julian?”
”He is with Monmouth in his chamber. They have been drinking deep, or at least the Duke, who is pouring out in Pomphrey's ear confidences almost too maudlin to be understood;” and there was a covert sneer on the haughty lips of his Grace. At the name of Monmouth and the knowledge that he was not with Katherine, Cedric's great tension appeared to snap asunder. For a moment Buckingham gazed at his companion as if in him there were undiscovered mines. Then suddenly his mind and eye returned to the tangible, and he run his arm through that of Cedric's and drew him away. When they were quite alone, the Duke, without the shadow of compunction, said,--
”You, my lord, are ambitious of nothing but domesticity. Is it not so?” His Lords.h.i.+p looked up with a start. If there was one thing he hated more than another, it was intrigue. And though he was ever environed by it, yet 'twas not his business now. He had come seeking Buckingham for the purpose of asking his a.s.sistance with the Duke of Monmouth, and at these words, so foreign from his interests, he frowned slightly and answered,--
”'Twould be difficult to say at what I aspire, seeing the thing I coveted most is taken from me. If that were mine, it might open up a vista of aspirations I had ne'er thought on heretofore I see only one thing at the present worth possessing.”
”And to possess that--thou art one of the richest n.o.bles in the realm--eh! Cedric?” His Lords.h.i.+p thought he saw the trend of his Grace's mind, and felt better.
”I'm rich to be sure, egad! What's the game, faro, loo, crib, langquement or quinze?” and he tapped his pouncet-box nervously.
”We have always been good, true friends, my lord. Your father and mine have shared in many and continued vicissitudes, and for this cause alone, barring our friends.h.i.+ps of more recent years, I would give thee a secret of which I am only half owner.”
”And what is this secret, your Grace? I am interested.”
”A secret cut into is only half a secret, and--”
”Ah! ah! how stupid I have grown! By all means, we are dealing in fractions, and to get the other half I must either pay or go a-hunting for it.”
”And thou, being hot-foot after most precious game, methought 'twould best serve to give thee a clue, as to the value of the secret, that thou couldst determine whether 'twas worth the finding;--whether 'twas worth the leaving off pursuit of that thou art after,”--and the Duke threw open his waistcoat and revealed its lining of rare satin and a pocket that contained a paper written upon in a writing that made Lord Cedric start, for he recognized it as Sir John Penwick's. And there recurred to him the conversation he overheard at the monastery, when one said,--”and once Sir John gets to this country.” But nay; his very last words in his own waistcoat pocket? So he spoke out disdainfully,--
”And thou dost embroider thy facings with dead men's autographs?”
”They are the better preserved, my lord,” said the Duke, with a smile.
”Then I am to understand the secret doth nearly concern Mistress Pen wick, and if I should show her favour, I would pay well for a sequel to that thou art about to unfold, eh! Duke?”
”Aye, pay well; for the demand will be more than thou dost imagine,”
and he took the paper and gave it into Cedric's hands.