The Riddle of the Deplorable Dandy by Patricia Veryan Page A

friend should have been incapacitated just at this particular time. Still, we do no good by theorizing. Fitz—can you tell me where Clayton is being held?”
    The clergyman nodded. “Give you a map. A very secluded chateau not far west of Rouen. Likely heavily guarded. Is your—” He glanced at Elspeth and his guileless face reddened. “Is Geraldine prepared to leave?”
    â€˜He was going to say “your bird of Paradise,”’ thought Elspeth, but her cynicism was forgotten when Valerian answered briskly, “Packed and ready to sail at a moment’s notice.”
    Shocked, she exclaimed, “You do not mean—You cannot mean—not tonight? ”
    â€œBut of course not.” One of Valerian’s dark brows arched upward as he fixed her with a sardonic stare. “Would a week from Wednesday afford you sufficient time to make up your mind, ma’am? You must pardon me if I had thought you judged your brother’s days to be numbered!”
    â€œYou are a horrid man,” she said through her teeth. “You know very well I am eager to send help to him, but—”
    â€œBut you’d no intent to risk your own skin—is that the case?”
    â€œOooh! How dare you—I would be—”
    The clergyman interpolated gently, “Don’t tease the lady, Gervaise. You ask a great deal of a gently bred-up girl. There must be other, more worldly-wise people we could hire to—”
    â€œAye,” snapped Valerian. “An actress with courage and capable of carrying off the imposture—had we a week or two! We have not! Every minute we waste is as full of danger for Georgiana as for Vance—”
    â€œYou mean ‘Geraldine,’” corrected Elspeth sweetly.
    â€œWhat? Oh—” Valerian gave an impatient gesture. “Small wonder my wits are adrift with all this backing and filling! If dear Bertha Hoylake had not been so badly hurt—thanks to Miss Clayton’s inept coachman—we would be already aboard. Bertha knows the situation and the risks and is ready and willing to undertake the voyage. To ask a stranger to run such a gauntlet for someone she doesn’t even know—” He broke off, scowling at Elspeth. “But Miss Clayton has as much at stake as have I, so the sacrifice is less.”
    Elspeth drew a deep breath. What this callous Dandy said was true enough. Suddenly she was very cold and had the feeling that all the colour had left her face. Striving not to tremble, she said, “You are perfectly correct, Mr. Valerian. Fortunately, my maid packed sufficient of my wardrobe for a stay of several days, so—”
    â€œThen you may leave it,” he interrupted peremptorily. “No nurse would own the elegant gowns you affect, ma’am.” He met the clergyman’s eye and said with defiance, “She’ll have to wear Bertha’s things.”
    Boudreaux stammered, “But—but they’re not at all similar. I mean, Miss Clayton’s—er, figure is—”
    â€œLess well endowed?” jeered Valerian, his gaze flickering over Elspeth in a way she thought deliberately insulting.
    â€œI mean—she is—is taller, for one thing,” persisted the clergyman, his colour deepening as he avoided Elspeth’s eyes.
    Valerian chuckled. “Yes, well, you’d best not list the other things, Fitz. The lady is ready to box your ears!”
    Judging another pair of ears far more deserving of being boxed, Elspeth contained her mortification and said coolly, “I am sure I shall manage, gentlemen. Though what I am to tell my servants is beyond me.”
    â€œIt ain’t beyond Fitz,” declared Valerian, and ignoring his friend’s panicked expression, he added, “Now you’d best meet Mrs. Geraldine, ma’am. And after that, Fitz, we’ll have a look at your map and try to come at a way to get Vance Clayton out of his