Daniel looked gravely at him. “I want you to turn over a new leaf,” he said. “Now that you’ve inherited the property, and now that you’re head of the family, you’ve got a lot of responsibilities.”
“That’s my own business, not yours,” muttered his cousin, again grunting loudly.
“No, it’s my affair, too,” Daniel answered. “You’re not married; you have no son. As things stand at present I’m the next of kin. I’m your heir.”
The other uttered a short laugh. “Oh, I see,” he scoffed. “You’re banking on my drinking myself to death, or something, before I can become a proud father, eh? You wanted to have a look at me: and I suppose you’re disappointed to find I’m in the pink. You’d rather fancy yourself as Daniel Lane, Earl of Barthampton.” He made a gesture of contempt. “A pretty sight you’d make in the House of Lords! I wonder they even let you into the barracks!”
Daniel laughed with genuine amusement. “They thought I’d come to mend your camera.”
Lord Barthampton suddenly leapt to his feet. “God!” he exclaimed. “Where the Hell is that man?” He rang the bell furiously. “Why the blasted Hell don’t they come when I send for them?”
“Are you in a hurry to have it mended?” asked Daniel mildly.
“Of course I am!” snapped his cousin.
“Then why didn’t you take it round to the shop, yourself, instead of going into tantrums like a baby?”
His Lordship stood stock still, and stared at Daniel, like an infuriated bull. “I wish to God I knew why you were sitting here in my room!” he roared. “Why don’t you go?”