Read Online Powder and Patch by Georgette Heyer - Free Book Online Page A

“L’ami de Philippe—ah, but you should have said!”
    Mr Bancroft was not elated at being classed as Philip’s friend, but he bowed over Mademoiselle’s hand with good grace.
    “I had no notion of finding him here, mademoiselle. The last time we met was in a wood.” “Tell,” besought the lady. Philip threw out his hands.
    “Ah, no, chérie! That meeting was so disastrous to my—vanity!” “Raison de plus,” decided Mademoiselle. “Tell me about it!”
    “Mr Bancroft and I had some slight difference in opinion which we settled in a wood. I was very easily worsted.”
    “You?” cried Mademoiselle. “Impossible!”
    “On the contrary, bien aimée; I was, in those days, a very sorry spectacle, was I not, sir?” “Not so long since,” said Mr Bancroft.
    “Six months,” nodded Philip, and turned to speak to the Comte de Saint-Dantin. Mademoiselle was still incredulous.
    “A sorry spectacle? Philippe?”
    “I scent an intrigue,” said a little Vicomte, “Clothilde, make him tell!” “Of course,” she said. “Philippe!”
    Philip swung neatly round to face her. “Chére Clothilde?”
    “Come here! I want you to tell me what you mean by a sorry spectacle. If you refuse—bien! I shall ask Mr Bancroft!”
    “Oh, I’ll give away no man’s secrets!” simpered Bancroft.
    Philip raised his eyeglass. He observed Mr Bancroft dispassionately. Then he shrugged, and turned back to Clothilde.
    “Petite ange, it’s a sad tale. Six months ago I lived in the country, and I was a very churlish bumpkin. Then I was made to see the folly of my ways, and now—me voici!” “I said that I scented an intrigue,” said the Vicomte tranquilly. “But wait, wait! You in the country, Philippe? You jest!”
    “On my honour, no, chérie! I came to Paris to learn the ways of Polite Society.” “Six months ago?” De Bergeret was astonished. “It is your first visit? You learned all this in so short a time?”
    “I have a natural aptitude,” smiled Philip. “Now are you satisfied?”
    “Je n’en reviendrai jamais!” Mademoiselle spoke emphatically. “Jamais, jamais, jamais!” “I am not at all satisfied.”
    Philip cocked one eyebrow at the dainty Vicomte. “What more would you have?”
    “I would know of what like she is.” “She?”
    “The lady to whom your heart is lost.”
    “That’s an hundred she’s,” replied Philip airily. “And they are all different!” “I dare swear I could enlighten M. de Ravel,” drawled Bancroft.
    All eyes turned his way. Philip seated himself beside Mademoiselle. He was smiling faintly. “Proceed, mon ami. Who is this lady that I have forgotten?”
    “Forgotten? Oh, come now, Jettan!”
    Philip played with Clothilde’s fan; he was still smiling, but the bright grey eyes that met Bancroft’s held a challenge.
    “If it transpired, m’sieur, that I had not forgotten it is possible that I might resent any liberties you or others thought to take with that lady’s name,” he said softly.
    There was a sudden silence. No one could mistake the menacing note in Philip’s smooth voice. Saint-Dantin made haste to fill the breach.
    “The little Philippe is ready to fight us all, but it cannot be permitted. We’ll not plague him, for he is very devilish when he is roused, I assure you!” He laughed easily and offered Bancroft snuff.
    “He is very fastidious,” sneered Bancroft.
    M. le Comte closed his snuffbox and stepped back. He became politely bored. “The subject grows somewhat tedious, I think. Mademoiselle, will you dance?” Bancroft flushed. Mademoiselle sprang up.
    “I am promised to Jules!” she nodded, smiling, to De Bergeret. Together they walked away
    from the little group.
    Saint-Dantin linked arms with Philip.
    “Come with me to the card-room, Philippe. Unless you wish to lead out la Salévier?” He nodded to where an opulent beauty stood.
    “It’s too fatiguing,” said Philip. “I’ll come.”
    “Who is he, the ill-disposed gentleman