“Is it so important? You will make me jealous, Horry—of Pelham.”
“It’s very, very important!” she said earnestly. “That is to say, I m-mean—Well, P-Pel wants me to be there particularly, you see!”
The Earl was playing with her fingers. “Do you think Pel would permit me to make one of this expedition?” he said.
“Oh, no, I am quite sure he w-wouldn’t like that at all!” said Horatia, appalled. “At least—I d-don’t mean that, of course, but—but he is to present some people to me, and they are strangers, you see, and I daresay you would not c-care for them.”
“But I have a reputation for being the most friendly of mortals,” said the Earl plaintively. He let go her hand and turned to arrange his cravat in the mirror. “Don’t distress yourself on my account, my dear. If I don’t care for these strangers I promise I will dissemble.”
Horatia gazed at him in complete dismay. “I d-don’t think you would enjoy it, M-Marcus. Really, I do not.”
He bowed slightly. “At your side, Horry, I could enjoy anything,” he said. “And now, my dear, if you will excuse me, I will go and attend to all the affairs which my poor Arnold wants me to deal with.”
Horatia watched him go out of the room, and straightway sat herself down at the desk in the window and scribbled a frantic note to her brother.
This missive, brought by hand, reached the Viscount’s lodging just as he came back to it from his visit to Sir Roland. He read it, swore under his breath, and dashed off an answer.
The devil fly away with Rule, he wrote. I’ll set Pom on to draw him off.