A sigh of relief escaped Pen. With Sir Richard’s entrance the reeling world seemed, miraculously, to have righted itself. She left the window-seat, and went instinctively towards him. “Sir, Piers says—Piers thinks—” She stopped, and raised a hand to her burning cheek.
Sir Richard looked at Piers with slightly raised brows. “Well?” he said gently. “What does Piers say and think?”
Mr Luttrell got up. Under that ironical, tolerant gaze, he too began to blush. “I only said—I only wondered how Pen comes to be travelling in your company!”
Sir Richard unfobbed his snuff-box, and took a pinch. “And does no explanation offer itself to you?” he enquired.
“Well, sir, I must say it seems to me—I mean—”
“Perhaps I should have told you,” said Sir Richard drawing Pen’s hand through his arm, and holding it rather firmly, “that you are addressing the future Lady Wyndham.”
The hand twitched in Sir Richard’s, but in obedience to the warning pressure of his fingers Miss Creed remained silent.
“Oh, I see!” said Piers, his brow clearing. “I beg pardon! It is famous news indeed! I wish you very happy! But—but why must she wear those clothes, and what are you doing here? It still seems very odd to me! I suppose since you are betrothed it may be argued that—But it is most eccentric, sir, and I do not know what people may say!”
“As we have been at considerable pains to admit no one but yourself into the secret of Pen’s identity, I hardly think that people will say anything at all,” replied Sir Richard calmly. “If the secret were to leak out—why, the answer is that we are a very eccentric couple!”
“It will never leak out through me!” Piers assured him. “It is no concern of mine, naturally, but I can’t help wondering what should have brought you here, and why Pen had to get out of a window. However, I don’t mean to be inquisitive, sir. It was only that—having known Pen all my life, you see!”