The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [250]
“But how did you know I was coming, brother?”
“Quite simple, Milady. The skipper of your vessel asked for permission to enter this port. He forwarded his logbook and his register. I am Governor of the Port; I consulted these records and I recognized your name. My heart told me what your lips have just confirmed. A choppy sea . . . a great many formalities . . . your yearning to see me again—all these considerations inspired me to send my cutter to meet you. You know the rest. . . .”
“Tell me, My Lord and brother—” Milady, terrified, paused for a moment. “Didn’t I see His Grace of Buckingham on the jetty?”
“Very likely. He is often at Admiralty Headquarters. Coming from France as you do, I suppose the sight of him impressed you. In France, I hear, there is much talk of British armament and preparations for invasion. Apparently this disturbs your friend the Cardinal.”
“My friend the Cardinal!”
“Do you not acknowledge the friendship of His Eminence? Strange, I thought you both hand in glove. But we can discuss Richelieu and Buckingham at some other time. Meanwhile you came, I think you said, in order to visit me?”
“Exactly.”
“As I remarked, you shall have your wish. We shall see each other daily.”
“Then I am to stay—?”
“You will be comfortably lodged, sister. If there is anything you lack, you have but to ask for it.”
“But I have no maid or lackeys.”
“You shall not want for service, Madame: I would not venture to guess upon what footing your first husband established your household but, brother-in-law as I am, I shall match it.”
“My first husband!”
“I mean your French husband, not my brother, who was perhaps your second husband. Or have you forgotten? At all events, you have a French husband still living. I am quite willing to write to him.”
“You are joking, brother,” Milady said airily. But a cold sweat broke over her brow.
“Do I look like a jester?”
“No. You look like someone who is trying to insult me!”
“Insult you! Is it humanly possible to insult you?”
“God help us, My Lord and brother, you are either in your cups or out of your senses. I beg you to withdraw and send me a maidservant.”
“Women are discreet, eh, sister? Shall I play the maid to you? Family secrets—”
“Coward!” Milady looked angrily at him, then sprang across the room. “Coward!” she repeated.
“Well, well, well,” Lord Winter replied, his arms crossed but his right hand on the pommel of his sword. “Murder is murder and you are skilled in the art. But I warn you I can defend myself even against you.”
“Yes, you are cowardly enough to draw your sword against a woman.”
“It would not be the first time a man raised his hand against you in punishment,” he said, pointing to her left shoulder. “Snarl all you wish, tigress sister,” he went on, “but do not bite, for it will not profit you. Here are no lawyers to settle an estate in advance . . . and no knights errant to quarrel with me for the sake of the female I hold incommunicado . . . here are only judges and righteous judges. . . . They will make short shrift of a bigamist, however charming; and I warn you they will hand you over to a hangman who will make your two shoulders as like as a brace of cherries on one stem.”
Milady’s eyes flashed and, though armed, Lord Winter cowered. The chill of fear stole over him but with rising anger.
“Yes, I know your game,” he continued, “you inherited my brother’s fortune, now you plan to inherit mine. But, kill me or not, I am forewarned. Not one penny of mine can possibly go to you. Are you not rich enough? God knows you ‘inherited’ almost a million. But it was not enough; you had perforce to pursue your wicked career. Tell me—” he glanced speculatively at her, “was it greed of gain that possessed you or love of evil for evil’s sake?”
“My Lord—”
“At all events I can tell you this. Were my brother