She coloured. “Oh, n-no one pays the least heed to P-Pel!”
she assured him. “And if you will l-let me be a friend of yours I w-will be whatever anyone says!”
Again he seemed to hesitate. A warm hand once more clasped his. “P-please let m-me!” Horatia begged.
His fingers closed round hers. “Why?” he asked. “Is it because you want to gamble with me? Is that why you offer me your friendship?”
“N-no, though that w-was what I wanted, to begin with,” Horatia admitted. “But now that you’ve told me all this I feel quite d-differently and I won’t be one of those horrid p-people who believe the worst.”
“Ah!” he said, “but I am afraid Rule would have something to say to that, my dear. I must tell you that he is not precisely one of my well-wishers. And husbands, you know, have to be obeyed.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to retort that she did not care a fig for Rule either, when it occurred to her that this was scarcely a proper sentiment, and she replied instead: “I assure you, sir, Rule d-does not interfere with my f-friendships.”
They had come by this time to the Hercules Pillars Inn by Hyde Park, and only a comparatively short distance remained between them and Grosvenor Square. The rain, which was now coming down in good earnest, beat against the windows of the coach, and the daylight had almost vanished. Horatia could no longer distinguish his lordship with any clarity, but she pressed his hand and said: “So that is quite decided, isn’t it?”
“Quite decided,” said his lordship.
She withdrew her hand. “And I will be v-very friendly and set you down at your house, sir, for it is raining much too hard for you to ride your horse. P-please tell my coachman your direction.”