“My future, if you please.”
He looked frowningly at her. “That’s my affair, ma’am.”
She shook her head. “It is kind in you, my lord, but I do not aspire to be your wife. I have thought very deeply, and I believe I know what will be best for me to do. May I tell you what I have decided?”
He said with a flash of humour: “There seems to be a vast deal of decision about you this morning, my dear. Tell me, by all means.”
She folded her hands in her lap; it occurred to him that she was a very restful woman. “What you said last night, my lord, was true; I cannot return to my home. You must not think that this will grieve me overmuch. I have never been very happy there. So I have formed a plan for my future which I believe to be tolerably sensible. If you will take me to Paris I shall be grateful for your escort. Once I am there it is my intention to seek a post in a genteel family as governess. I thought, perhaps you would be able to put me in the way of it, since I suppose you have a large acquaintance in Paris.”
His lordship broke in at this point. “My good child, are you proposing that I should recommend you to some respectable matron?”
“Couldn’t you?” asked Miss Challoner anxiously.
“I could, of course, but — Lord, I’d give a monkey to see the matron’s face!”
“Oh!” said Miss Challoner. “I see. It was stupid of me not to think of that.” She relapsed into profound thought. “Well, if I cannot find anyone to recommend me as a governess, I think I shall become a milliner,” she announced.
He stretched out his right hand, and clasped both of hers in it. He was no longer laughing. “I don’t often suffer from remorse, Mary, but you are fast teaching me. Come, can’t you stomach me as a husband?”