She flashed an indignant look at him, and set her empty glass down on the table with a snap. The Earl offered her his snuff-box. “Will you try this mixture? I find it tolerably soothing to the nerves.”
Miss Taverner relented. “I am very sensible of what an honour that is,” she said, helping herself to an infinitesimal pinch. “I suppose you could do no more.”
“Not while I continue to occupy the post of guardian,” he agreed.
She lowered her gaze, and said in a hurry: “Did the Duke mention his plan of inviting me (and you too) to Bushey for Christmas?”
“He did,” said the Earl. “But I informed him that you would be spending Christmas at Worth.”
Miss Taverner drew in her breath sharply, inhaled far more of his lordship’s snuff than she had meant to, and sneezed. “But I am not!” she said.
“I am sorry if it should be repugnant to you, but you are certainly spending Christmas at Worth,” he replied.
“It is not repugnant, precisely, but—”
“You relieve my mind of a weight,” said his lordship satirically. “I was afraid it might be.”
“It is very obliging of you, but since you have refused your consent to the Duke’s paying his addresses to me he cannot now expect me to make one of his party. I should prefer to spend Christmas with Perry.”