She sighed. “It does not seem fair, because it was I who found the necklace, after all! Who is the stammering-man? You may just as well tell me that, because Piers will, you know.”
“Certainly. The stammering-man is the Honourable Beverley Brandon.”
“Oh! I don’t know him,” said Pen, rather disappointed.
“You are to be congratulated.”
“Is he an enemy of yours?”
“An enemy! No!”
“Well, you seem to dislike him very cordially.”
“That does not make him my enemy. To be exact, he is the younger brother of the lady to whom I was to have been betrothed.”
Pen looked aghast. “Good God, sir, can he have come in search of you?”
“No, nothing of that kind. Indeed, Pen, I can’t tell you more, for the rest is conjecture.” He met her disappointed look, and smiled down at her, gently pinching her chin. “Poor Pen! Forgive me!”