“Do not try to provoke me, Richard!” said Louisa, on a warning note. “I will allow your appearance to be everything that it should be—admirable, I am sure!”
“One does one’s poor best,” murmured Sir Richard.
Her bosom swelled. “Richard, I could hit you!” she declared.
The smile grew, allowing her a glimpse of excellent white teeth. “I don’t think you could, my dear.”
George so far forgot himself as to laugh. A quelling glance was directed upon him. “George, be quiet!” said Louisa.
“I must say,” conceded Lady Wyndham, whose maternal pride could not be quite overborne, “there is no one, except Mr Brummell, of course, who looks as well as you do, Richard.”
He bowed, but he did not seem to be unduly elated by this encomium. Possibly he took it as his due. He was a very notable Corinthian. From his Wind-swept hair (most difficult of all styles to achieve), to the toes of his gleaming Hessians, he might have posed as an advertisement for the Man of Fashion. His fine shoulders set off a coat of superfine cloth to perfection; his cravat, which had excited George’s admiration, had been arranged by the hands of a master; his waistcoat was chosen with a nice eye; his biscuit-coloured pantaloons showed not one crease; and his Hessians with their jaunty gold tassels, had not only been made for him by Hoby, but were polished, George suspected, with a blacking mixed with champagne. A quizzing-glass on a black ribbon hung round his neck; a fob at his waist; and in one hand he carried a Sevres snuff-box. His air proclaimed his unutterable boredom, but no tailoring, no amount of studied nonchalance, could conceal the muscle in his thighs, or the strength of his shoulders. Above the starched points of his shirt-collar, a weary, handsome face showed its owner’s disillusionment. Heavy lids drooped over grey eyes which were intelligent enough, but only to observe the vanities of the world; the smile which just touched that resolute mouth seemed to mock the follies of Sir Richard’s fellow men.
Jeffries came back into the room with a tray, and set it upon a table. Louisa waved aside the offer of refreshment, but Lady Wyndham accepted it, and George, emboldened, by his mother-in-law’s weakness, took a glass of Madeira.
“I dare say,” said Louisa, “that you are wondering what we are here for.”
“I never waste my time in idle speculation,” replied Sir Richard gently. “I feel sure that you are going to tell me what you are here for.”