Mr Wantage eyed him shrewdly, and stroked his chin. “Ay, but I’m not sure as Miss Deb is receiving visitors today,” he said.
“Take my message to her!” Ravenscar said fiercely.
Mr Wantage opened his eyes very wide at this, but apparently decided to obey. He showed Mr Ravenscar into the small parlour at the back of the hall, and left him there while he went to deliver his message to Miss Grantham.
Deborah was in her bedchamber, having just taken off her hat and her travelling-cloak. She was giving her aunt a lively description of her journey when Silas scratched on the door, but when she heard who was below, she hesitated, blushed, and said. “Very well, I will come down.”
“If you were to ask me, Miss Deb, I should have to tell you that if ever I saw a cove in the devil’s own temper I’ve seen it just now, when I opened the door to Mr Ravenscar,” Silas warned her.
“Oh, dear! He must have heard the news!” said Miss Grantham ruefully. “I did hope he would not mind so very much!”
“Maybe I’d better come with you,” suggested Wantage, who had not yet given up hope of enjoying a bout of fisticuffs with Mr Ravenscar.
“Certainly not! He cannot eat me, after all!”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” said Mr Wantage darkly.
But Miss Grantham only laughed, and dismissed him, turning to arrange her hair in the mirror, and to straighten the fall of lace over her bosom. She then told her aunt she expected to be back directly, and went downstairs to the back-parlour.