“I am afraid I give you a deal of trouble,” apologized his lordship, preparing to depart. At the door he looked back. “By the way, Arnold, I think you may be under some slight misapprehension. It is the youngest Miss Winwood who does me the honour of accepting my hand.”
Mr Gisborne was startled. “Miss Charlotte Winwood, sir? The youngest Miss Winwood, I believe, is scarcely out of the schoolroom.”
“Certainly not Miss Charlotte Winwood,” said the Earl. “I have it on excellent authority that nothing would induce Miss Charlotte to marry me.”
“Good God, my lord!” said Mr Gisborne blankly.
“Thank you, Arnold. You comfort me,” said his lordship, and went out.
Chapter Three
The youngest Miss Winwood’s return to South Street was witnessed by both her sisters from the windows of the withdrawing-room. Her absence had certainly been remarked, but since the porter was able to inform the rather agitated governess that Miss Horatia had gone out attended by her maid, no great concern was felt. It was odd of Horatia, and very wayward, but no doubt she had only stolen out to buy the coquelicot ribbons she had coveted in a milliner’s window, or a chintz patch for a gown. This was Elizabeth’s theory, delivered in her soft, peaceable voice, and it satisfied Lady Winwood, lying upon the sopha with her vinaigrette to hand. The appearance of a town coach, drawn by perfectly matched bays with glittering harness, did not occasion more than a fleeting interest until it became apparent that this opulent equipage was going to draw up at the door of No 20.
Charlotte exclaimed: “Lord, who can it be? Mama, a caller!” She pressed her face against the window, and said: “There is a crest on the panel, but I cannot distinguish—Lizzie, I believe it is Lord Rule!”
“Oh no!” Elizabeth fluttered, pressing a hand to her heart.
By this time the footman had sprung down, and opened the coach door. Charlotte grew pop-eyed. “It’s Horry!” she gasped.