“You’re not being featured,” said Jack shortly. “And Mendoza’s chief complaint was that there was too much of you in it.”
Michael looked round. Sir Gregory Penne had strolled toward where the girl was standing, and, in her state of elation, she had no room in her heart even for resentment against the man she so cordially detested.
“Little girl, I want to speak to you before you go,” he said, dropping his voice, and for once she smiled at him.
“Well, you have a good opportunity now, Sir Gregory,” she said.
“I want to tell you how sorry I am for what happened the other day, and I respect you for what you said, for a girl’s entitled to keep her kisses for men she likes. Aren’t I right?”
“Of course you’re right,” she said. “Please don’t think any more about it, Sir Gregory.”
“I’d no right to kiss you against your will, especially when you’re in my house. Are you going to forgive me?”
“I do forgive you,” she said, and would have left him, but he caught her arm.
“You’re coming to dinner, aren’t you?” He jerked his head toward the watchful Michael. “Your friend said he’d bring you along.”
“Which friend?” she asked, her eyebrows raised. “You mean Mr. Brixan?”