Horatia caught up her cloak and her reticule and retired to the back of the box. “If Theresa sees us she’ll c-come and join us, and we shall n-never shake her off!” she said agitatedly. “P-Pel, do come away!”
The Viscount consulted his watch. “Eleven o’clock. What the deuce do we do now?”
“We shall have to w-walk about the gardens,” decided Horatia. “D-dodge them, you know.”
Apparently Mrs Maulfrey’s guests were also seized by an inclination to wander about the gardens. No less than five times did the two parties almost converge and the Viscount whisk his sister round to hurry off down a different path, and when the conspirators at last found a secluded seat in the Lover’s Walk the Viscount sank down upon it quite exhausted and declared that his sister might in the future lose every jewel in the Drelincourt collection before he would stir a finger to help her to recover them.
Sir Roland, always gallant, protested. “Pel, dear old boy, Pel!” he said reprovingly. “Assure your la’ship—pleasure to be of assistance!”
“You can’t say it’s a pleasure to dodge round shrubberies and corners for the best part of an hour!” objected the Viscount. “Not but what if we can but lay hands on Lethbridge I don’t say it won’t have been worth it.”
“What are you g-going to do with him?” inquired Horatia with interest.
“Never you mind!” replied the Viscount darkly, and exchanged a glance with Sir Roland. “What do you make the time, Pom?”
Sir Roland consulted his watch. “All but ten minutes to the hour, Pel.”
“Well, we’d best be moving,” said the Viscount, getting up.