“That is something that can be mended!” she retorted.
He lifted an eyebrow at her. “Are you sure you dare, Miss Grantham?”
She gave a scornful laugh. “Dare! I? I will meet you when you choose, Mr Ravenscar, the stakes to be fixed by yourself!”
“Then let it be tonight,” he said promptly.
“Let it be at once!” she said, rising from her chair. He too rose, and offered his arm. His countenance was perfectly grave, but she had the impression that he was secretly laughing at her.
On the staircase they met Lord Mablethorpe, on his way down to supper. His face fell when he saw Miss Grantham. He exclaimed: “You have not finished supper already! I made sure of finding you in the dining-room! Oh, do come back, Deb! Come and drink a glass of wine with me!”
“You are too late,” said Ravenscar. “Miss Grantham is promised to me for the next hour.”
“For the next hour! Oh, come now, Max, that’s too bad! You are quizzing me!”
“Nothing of the sort: we are going to play a rubber or two of piquet.”
Adrian laughed. “Oh, poor Deb! Don’t play with him: he’ll fleece you shamefully!”