The Birth of Blue Satan Read Online Free Page A

St. Mars from his reckless course when he took the bit between his teeth.
    Tom could not be certain why his lordship was in such a pent-up mood of late, but he had a fairly good notion. He had ears just as keen as that fancy French valet’s. And, knowing both my Lord Hawkhurst and his tantrums better than the Frenchy did, Tom could well imagine the scene that had just transpired at Rotherham Abbey. His sympathies were divided fairly equally on this occasion, but no words of his would improve Master Gideon’s disposition. And it was not for a servant like him to tell my Lord St. Mars whom to wed.
    “Foolish is as foolish does,” he muttered to himself as he helped his master’s diamond-buckled shoe into its stirrup. “And I wonder how he thinks he’s going to look, struttin’ about her ladyship’s ballroom after a ride in them fancy clothes?”
    Tom followed Gideon’s horse to the immense wrought-iron and gilt gate that shielded Hawkhurst House, with its thirty rooms, its stables and its outbuildings, from the roughness of the city streets. He moved past him to swing the heavy gate open, and Gideon walked his horse through it. There was no more need for talk. Gideon knew the risks he took and had no patience with his servant’s worries. For his part, Tom knew that he would not sleep until his master was safely home that night.
    The night was as black as the depths of a well, the park uncannily empty, the street immensely quiet, as Tom swung the gate closed. Gideon turned in the street. “On my return, I do not wish to find you manning this gate. The porter will let me in. It is, after all, his job.”
    Tom was on the point of responding when he heard a horse coming slowly, then faster down the darkened street, its iron-shod hooves ringing sharply on the cobblestones.
    With a sudden worry, he swung the gate open again, starting forward just as the shadowy form of a rider came within view.
    Gideon swiveled in his saddle to peer at the approaching figure. “What the—”
    The stranger was hurtling towards him like a kite diving for its prey. Tom strained to make out the man’s face, but nothing could be seen on this moonless night except a black, fluttering mass riding swiftly towards them, its features shrouded or obscured. He had an uneasy impulse to reach for his master’s reins, but Gideon stopped him, spinning his mare, one hand reaching for his sword.
    “A word with you, St. Mars!” the rider called out, easing up on his horse.
    Gideon released his hilt.
    It’s a messenger , Tom thought with relief—a relief still tinged with a nagging anxiety. A messenger belike from the Abbey and Gideon’s father .
    Then, as the stranger’s horse moved within the circle of light cast by the gate’s one lamp, the figure, which was swathed in a long black cloak, began to ride at Gideon again at full tilt.
    He wore a Venetian mask. His head was covered by a long, black hood. A glint of steel flashed in his hand.
    “Master Gideon, your back!”
    Gideon’s horse spun on its two hind hooves, knocking Tom aside. As the rider flew past, he raised his weapon and slashed. Reaching for his own sword too late, Gideon jerked with a cry. His horse reared and twisted, flinging him hard to the ground.
     
    Fair Nymphs, and well-dressed Youths around her shone,
    But every eye was fixed on her alone.
    On her white breast a sparkling Cross she wore,
    Which Jews might kiss, and Infidels adore.
    Her lively looks a sprightly mind disclose,
    Quick as her eyes, and as unfixed as those:
    Favours to none, to all she smile extends;
    Oft she rejects, but never once offends.
    Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike,
    And, like the sun, they shine on all alike.
    Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride,
    Might hide her faults, if Belles had faults to hide:
    If to her share some female errors fall,
    Look on her face, and you’ll forget ‘em all.
     

CHAPTER 2
     
    “Master Gideon!”
    As the stranger galloped away, his long,