His thin fingers tightened perceptibly about the shaft of his quizzing glass, his eyes, narrowed to mere slits, stared across at her. “At Ranelagh...” he repeated. “Well?”
“Oh, I was there!” she replied. “I heard you speak to that little fool. You went into the pavilion. What happened then?”
He had let his glass fall and drawn a snuff-box from his pocket. He tapped it with one finger and opened it. “And pray what is that to you, Caroline?” he asked.
“Someone said a Scarlet Domino had gone into the smallest card-room. I saw no one there. I went out on to the terrace.
I saw—you, as I thought—cut one of the bride’s curls off—oh, that doesn’t signify now! She ran out and I went in.” She stopped, pressing her handkerchief to her lips. “My God, it was Rule!” she said.
Lord Lethbridge took a pinch of snuff, shook away the residue, and raised the pinch first to one nostril, then to the other. “How very disconcerting for you, my love!” he said blandly. “I’m sure you betrayed yourself.”
She shuddered. “I thought it was you. I said—it makes no odds what I said. Then he took off his mask. I was near to swooning.”
Lord Lethbridge shut the snuff-box and dusted his ruffles. “Very entertaining, Caroline. And I hope it will be a lesson to you not to interfere in my affairs. How I wish I had seen you!”
She reddened angrily, and moved towards a chair. “You were always spiteful, Robert. But you were at Ranelagh last night, and you wore that scarlet domino. I tell you I saw no other there!”
“There was no other,” replied Lethbridge coolly. He smiled, not very pleasantly. “What an instructive evening our dear Rule must have spent! And what a fool you are, Caroline! Pray, what did you say to him?”