“I daresay he might not be, but what’s the odds?”
“Well, I am not very sure, but I think he can’t bring an action against you. Unless, of course, it is she who brings it, and he merely writes for her.”
Matthew considered this. “I must say I should not have thought it of Belinda,” he said, “But there is no knowing, after all! I daresay she was hoaxing me all the time, and was no more innocent than a piece of Haymarket-ware.”
The Duke glanced at the letters again, and got up, and walked over to the table, to pour out two glasses of wine.
Matthew watched him, saying after a minute: “And whatever he is, you can see one thing: he means to make himself curst unpleasant, and there’s no getting away from it that he has those damned letters of mine!”
“No,” agreed Gilly. “It’s a devil of a tangle.”
“Gilly,” said his cousin, in a hollow voice, “even if it did not come to an action, it will reach my father, and my uncle too, and that would be just as bad!”
He did not address himself to deaf ears. The Duke almost shuddered, “Good God, it must not be allowed to reach them!”
Matthew dropped his chin in his hands, his elbows propped on his knees. “If only I could think of what I had best do!” he groaned.
Gilly held out one of the glasses to him, “Here, take some wine! Does Gideon know anything of this?”