“I can conceive of nothing more unlikely. What figure will you go to buy the girl off?”
“No sacrifice would be too great to save my son from such an entanglement! I shall rely on you, for I know nothing of such matters. Only rescue the poor boy!”
“It will go very much against the grain,” said Ravenscar grimly.
Lady Mablethorpe stiffened. “Indeed! Pray, what may you mean by that?”
“A constitutional dislike of being bled, ma’am.”
“Oh!” she said, relaxing. “You may console yourself with the reflection that it is I, not you, being bled.”
“It is a slight consolation,” he admitted.
“I have not the least doubt that you will find the girl rapacious. Sally tells me that she is at least five years older than Adrian.”
“She’s a fool if she accepts less than ten thousand,” said Ravenscar.
Lady Mablethorpe’s jaw dropped. “Max!”