Sure the world was upside down. And who would have thought it of the large gentleman? She had come to think she could no longer by surprised, but this strange proposal of his came to dispel such fancies. He meant it, too: not a doubt of that. As she prepared for bed she thought over it long, and with some agitation. The gentleman’s last words lingered; they had been forcefully uttered; she believed he was not the man to promise what he would not perform.
Well, she had said him nay: that had been of instinct, because she loved him, and it was not in a lover’s part to take the selfish course. But the devil was in it the gentleman refused to take her nay. There seemed to be no counter for that; she perceived that she was doomed to become Lady Fanshawe. A slow smile played around the corners of her mouth. No use pretending it was not a role she had an ambition to play; not much use either to pretend she would escape from Sir Anthony, and hide herself abroad. It might be a difficult matter, she reflected, but honesty forced her to admit it was not the difficulty of it deterred her. If when the time came the sleepy gentleman still claimed her she would be his for the taking: there was, faith, a limit to altruism. But he should be granted a respite; he must have time to think it over carefully. Maybe he had fallen under a spell of her unconscious weaving, and might later achieve sanity again. Egad, he had a position to maintain in the world, and an old name to consider. He would thank her perhaps for her nay. A gloomy thought to take to bed with one.
She slept but fitfully; the evening’s work haunted her dreams, and in the waking moments a vision of security, and the love of a large gentleman came to tantalise her. The night hours passed in wakeful contemplation; she fell asleep with the grey dawn, and was sleeping still when Robin peeped in on her in broad daylight.
Robin forbore to wake her. Something had gone amiss; that was sure. He had awaited her homecoming last night, and he had heard her creep past his door to her own. That told its own tale. Robin declined to drive out to visit friends with my Lady Lowestoft, and sat him down to await his sister’s pleasure.
There came soon a knock on the door into the street, and a few minutes later Sir Anthony Fanshawe was ushered into the room.
Robin made his curtsey, and was startled to see no gallant bow in response. “Sir?” said he, in a voice of some dignity.
Sir Anthony laid down his hat and gloves. “I’ve to suppose you’ve not yet seen your sister,” he remarked.
This came as something of a shock to Robin, but long training stood him in good stead. He showed no signs of shock, but looked watchfully under his long lashes, and softly said: “Pray how am I to take that, sir?”
“Honestly, I beg of you.”
The time for dissimulation was obviously past. Robin felt some annoyance at being found in all this woman’s gear, but no shadow of alarm crossed his face. “So! I’m to understand Prue takes you into her confidence?”