I sat down, firm and composed. He was absent, and as for that woman, there was nothing in her to discompose me. We seldom tremble where we do not respect.
“Your ladyship probably knows upon what subject I came,” were my first quiet words.
I saw by the motion of her whole body that she could with difficulty restrain her rage.
“Yes, and I thank you for saving me another interview with your very singular friend,” she said, with a smile that was intended to be playful, but faded to a sneer.
“What, madam, has Count Chaleco been with you?”
“If you mean that dark browed man who calls himself your protector, he has given us the honor of his company more than once.”
“I do mean him, and he is my protector!” I answered, stung by her look and tone rather than by a comprehension of her words.
“Of course. No one would think otherwise. After eloping with him in the night from Greenhurst, visiting the Highlands, and domesticating yourselves together in London, there can be, I fancy, little doubt left on that point!”
I began to comprehend her meaning. Isolated as I had been from the world, and independent of its usages, I could not mistake the sneering expression of that evil face, had the words failed to enlighten me. But I was not angry. Scorn of the very thought that she applied these vile imaginings to me curved my lips with a smile. I could not have forced myself into a word of explanation or defence. The woman seemed to me only a little more repulsive than before.
“Then, madam, if my friend has preceded me I shall have little to explain, and our interview will be more brief. You comprehend, doubtless, that evidence of Lord Clare’s residence with my mother in Scotland, which constitutes a legal marriage, is in our possession; that the best counsel consider me, and not your ladyship, the inheritor of his title and estates. Indeed, the record of my birth, in his own handwriting, where my mother is mentioned as his wife, is by the laws of Scotland a marriage in itself.”