She was silent for a moment, looking into the fire. He sat still, watching her, and presently she said in her quiet way: “Sophia thought that she could make you wed her. She is very young and silly. My mother too — ” she coloured painfully — “is not very wise. I did not think that you would marry Sophia. I thought that you would try to make her your mistress, and I was afraid for her because — because she behaved — foolishly, and because I knew that you would ruin her.” She paused, but he said nothing. “That letter you sent,” she went on, “was directed to Miss Challoner. I am the elder, you see, and it came to my hand. I knew it was writ by you, but I opened it. Sophia never saw it, my lord.”
“Then all you told me at Newhaven was a lie?”
Miss Challoner flushed. “Yes, sir, it was a lie. I wanted to be sure that you would never want to see Sophia again and it seemed to me that if only I could make you believe that she had tricked you — like that — you would be done with her for ever.”
“You were right,” said Vidal grimly.
“Yes. Only I did not know that you would force me to go instead. I didn’t know I should be obliged to tell you all this. I thought you would let me go at once, and I could travel back to London, and only my mother and Sophia be the wiser. Of course, I see now that I was very foolish. But that is the whole truth, my lord.”
“Foolish?” he said. “You were mad! Good God, what a damnable muddle!” He sprang up, and began to pace to and fro. Over his shoulder he threw at her: “You little fool, Sophia was never worth the risk you took. You may have saved her from me, but there will be others soon enough.”
“Oh no,” she said distressfully. “Oh no, my lord!”
“I tell you, yes. Now what the devil’s to be done to get you out of this coil?”
“If you would arrange a passage for me on the packet, my lord, I could manage very well,” she said.
A swift smile lit his eyes. “What, dare you brave the sea again?”