Phoebe sprang up in some agitation. “No, no, I implore you! Only consider how frightful it must appear! She invited me to her house, and has been everything that is kind! How could I possibly steal you from her? I would rather die!”
His lordship quite saw the force of this argument, but he was not satisfied with it. “Yes, but you did not steal me,” he said. “We did not mean to fall in love! We could not help ourselves, and that she will surely understand! You are blameless at least! It is I who deserve to be horse-whipped!”
It was not to be expected that Miss Laxton could agree with this judgement. She began to argue the point, laying the blame at her own door, and finding all manner of excuses, for his lordship. He would not allow it, and the next few minutes were spent in a singularly profitless discussion, which might, indeed, have lasted for hours, had not his lordship perceived the uselessness of it, and silenced Miss Laxton by kissing her.
“Oh!” said Miss Laxton, burying her face in his coat. “If you do that, how can I behave as I ought? You must not, Adrian! Oh, please, you must not!”
“My conduct has been everything of the most damnable!” said his lordship, determined not to understate the case. “But it would be worse if I were to marry Deb. I have no doubts on that score. I must confess the whole to her, and throw myself on her generosity. If there had been an acknowledged engagement, the case would be hopeless indeed, for as a man of honour I could not draw back, exposing her to the world as a female who had been jilted. But it is not so! No one knows of the engagement but my mother and cousin. I cannot deceive Deb. I will not, indeed! She must be told the truth, and at once.”
“I am ready to sink!” declared Miss Laxton, grasping a chairback for support. “What will she think of me?”
“What will she think of me?” asked his lordship.
Happily for them both, Miss Grantham chose that moment to come back into the room. “Well, and is the race over?” she asked. “Have you come to the end of all your hairbreadth escapes, or am I too soon?”
Miss Laxton turned away to stare into the fire. Lord Mablethorpe braced himself, and said resolutely: “We have not been talking about the race, Deb. There is something I must say to you.”
“No!” whispered Miss Laxton faintly, as one in honour bound.