“I have,” he replied. “But on second thoughts I have decided—with your permission, of course—to send them instead to your lawyer.”
“I am sure I do not know who is to look after my affairs for me,” said Miss Taverner.
“That will be a task for your husband,” he answered.
“I have not got a husband,” said Miss Taverner pettishly.
“Very true, but that can soon be remedied. Now that you are free from my shackles your suitors will flock to the house.”
“You are extremely good, but I have no wish to marry any of them. I confess I did not like it at the time, but lately I have been glad that you refused your consent to them all. Which puts me in mind, Lord Worth, of what I wish to say to you.” She drew a deep breath, and embarked on the speech she had prepared. “I have not always appeared to be sensible of the care you have bestowed on me, but I know now that it has been unceasing. I am deeply grateful for your kindness during the past—”
“My what?” demanded the Earl.
She said stiffly: “Your many kindnesses.”
“But I thought I was the most odious, provoking, detestable creature alive?”
She regarded him with a smouldering eye. “Yes, you are!” she said. “Civility compelled me to try at least to thank you for the services you have rendered me, but if you will have none of it, I assure you I do not care! You put me in the horridest situation when you encouraged my cousin to make off with me; you had not the common courtesy to call to see how I did yesterday; you wrote me instead the most odious letter (and I daresay if he had not been away you would have told Mr. Blackader to do it to save you the trouble!); and now you come to visit me in one of your disagreeable moods, and try to make me lose my temper! Well, I shall not do it, but I shall take leave to tell you, my lord, that however glad you may be to be rid of your ward you cannot be as glad as I am to be rid of my guardian!”