Affair of Pretense

Twenty-eight

"You know you cannot hoodwink me for long, so I beg you to tell me the truth! It certainly leaves a bad taste in my mouth to accuse my best friend of something so ignoble, but I need to know, Evelyn!"

"Your sentiments are very touching, of course, but I am not quite sure what you mean."

The Major's keen eyes narrowed at him. "You were in Rye last year, were you not?"

"I was," came the Marquis' bland response. "In an insignificantly short period of time. I was merely travelling back to London."

"Oh, did you? Well, it appeared that something had happened in that insignificantly short period of time that you were there," he returned in a voice laced with sarcasm. "I was looking into the rackets the smugglers have been kicking lately and spoke with the owner of The George's last week. He happens to be an acquaintance of my father's."

His lordship shrugged and vouchsafed no answer. The Major continued in a portentous tone, "Last summer, a couple of riding-officers who was chasing after one of the miscreants stormed into his inn, but a certain nobleman, who happened to be putting up there at that time, had contrived to fob them off smoothly."

"A finesse of a rare kind, you'll allow," murmured Denver.

"Certainly!" returned John at his driest. "And I only know of one person who could pull off such a trick. Incidentally, this nobleman whom the landlord distinctly remembered capriciously bore off a redhead youth and left The George's the next day. That boy, he told me, looked utterly suspicious, and if it weren't for the colour of his hair and somewhat effeminate countenance he would not have been in any way remarkable." His met Denver's gaze squarely. "Redhead and effeminate countenance. It instantly put me in mind of someone, no matter how preposterous it might have seemed to me at the time. However, the idea has been stuck with me since then. That should give me enough hint, should it not? Call it intuition, if you like!"

"It appears that the innkeeper has more intelligence than I credited him before," Denver's lips curled sardonically.

"Then for God' sake, Evelyn, why not answer my question plainly?" said the Major with a rare show of temper, "I've always known you to have a trick or two up your sleeve, but this—," he made a vague motion with his hands, "—all of this charade is outside of the enough! It's madness!"

"So you take the innkeeper's words as gospel truth than mine?"

"Yes," returned John with brutal honesty. "Truth is, you're damned too devious Evelyn—you know you are! It's damned unscrupulous, even for someone who is used to have his way and get what he wants without the slightest compunction or consideration! Well, I'll tell you what: I am not exactly sharp-witted like you, but it wasn't difficult to put two and two together! I knew it to be smoky by half at the outset when you told me about this mysterious cousin of yours; but I had, against my better judgement shrugged off those suspicions!"

He ran a hand through his locks and sighed in resignation. "Then why did you play along?"

"Blame it to my damned loyalty for you!" John shook his head in abysmal dismay. "You can't go on like this. You know you can't! Everyone will know the truth later on! And Georgie—Miss Devilliers—whoever she is—must need to be packed off somewhere, or return to where she belongs!"

Denver's eyes were devoid of emotions, but he said quietly, "And what if I don't want to?"

"Then I am more certain than ever that you've gone stark mad and Bedlam is for you, my friend!" John stood up and paced around the room. "Whatever reasons you have by embarking upon this deceitful play-acting of cousins, they don't justify you hoodwinking your relatives; least of all, your grandfather, whom I have no doubt you took advantage of on account of his senility!"