TW04 The Zenda Vendetta NEW Read Free Page B

constant irritation to her that my features bring to mind the family scandal.”
    “Scandal?”
    “You mean you haven’t heard the story? I would have thought that someone would have brought it up that night, at least once.”
    Drakov frowned. “No, I must confess to ignorance. If it is an awkward topic, perhaps we should—”
    “No, no, dear fellow, not a bit of it,” said Rassendyll with a wave of his hand. “Frankly, I’m surprised that you’ve been spared. The so-called skeleton in our family closet sees such frequent display in London society that it is something of an open secret. Since Lady Burlesdon blushes so prettily, some wag always brings it up whenever someone comments on the difference in the coloring between my brother Robert and myself. Though it’s something of an embarrassment to the sensitivities of my sister-in-law, I find it somewhat amusing. My father did, as well. He gave me the name of Rudolf because it is an old and common Elphberg name and I was born with what my family refers to as the ‘Elphberg Curse’—I mean this rather aristocratic nose of mine and my red hair. I suppose I should explain. As you are on your way to Rudolf Elphberg’s coronation, you might find it diverting to hear the story.”
    “I must admit to being intrigued,” said Drakov.
    Rassendyll leaned back in his chair and tucked his thumbs into his waistcoat. An inveterate gossip, he delighted in telling the tale afresh to a new listener.
    “It happened in 1733,” he said, “when George II was sitting on the throne of England. A prince who was later known to history as King Rudolf the Third of Ruritania came on a visit to the English court. He was a tall and handsome fellow marked by a somewhat unusually straight and sharp nose and a mass of dark red hair—in fact, the same nose and hair that have stamped the Elphbergs time out of mind. The prince stayed some months in England, where he was most courteously received, but in the end, he left rather under a cloud. He fought a duel with an English nobleman well known in the society of his day not only for his own merits, but as the husband of an exceedingly beautiful wife.”
    “Ah,” said Drakov, with a knowing grin.
    “Yes, quite,” said Rassendyll. “In that duel, Prince Rudolf was severely wounded and, recovering therefrom, was adroitly smuggled off by the Ruritanian ambassador, who found him a pretty handful by all accounts. The nobleman in question was not wounded in the duel, but the morning being raw and damp on the occasion of the meeting, he contracted a severe chill. Failing to throw it off, he died some six months after the departure of Prince Rudolf. I should add that he passed on without having found the leisure to adjust his relations with his wife, who after another two months bore an heir to the title and estates of the family of Burlesdon. This lady was the Countess Amelia and her husband was James, fifth Earl of Burlesdon and twenty-second Baron Rassendyll, in both the peerages of England and a Knight of the Garter.
    “As for Rudolf, he went back to Ruritania, married and ascended to the throne, whereon his progeny in the direct line have sat from then till this very hour. The results of this episode can be seen today if one were to walk through the picture galleries at Burlesdon. Among the fifty or so portraits of the last century and half, you would find five or six, including that of the sixth earl, distinguished by sharp noses and a quantity of dark red hair. These five or six also have blue eyes, whereas among the Rassendylls, dark eyes are the commoner. So now, the occasional appearance among the dark-haired Rassendylls of a red head such as mine brings to mind Countess Amelia’s indiscretion. Some might consider it Fate’s way of smirking at my cuckolded ancestor, but I see it as a romantic reminder of a refreshing episode in an otherwise crashingly dull family history. I fear that Lady Burlesdon does not share my view of it,