“The old gentleman assures me that I am also Tremaine of Barham,” Robin answered lightly. “What do you make of that, O mountain?”
“Very little,” said Sir Anthony. “As for the filial respect you do not show to your father — ”
“Prue, did I not say it was all propriety? My very dear sir, I reserve all my respect for my so eminently respectable brother-in-law. The old gentleman is not in the least respectable. If you had had the doubtful pleasure of knowing him for as long as I have, you would realise that.”
“I might, of course,” Sir Anthony conceded. “But so far, the more I see of him the more I feel that he is a person to be treated with considerable respect, and — er — circumspection.”
Chapter 22
Tortuous Methods of My Lord Barham
Robin preserved the light manner, but he had begun to chafe at his petticoats. Faith, the old gentleman seemed to do nothing and there were rumours current now that Rensley, as soon as he was able to leave his room, meant to bring a case against his would-be cousin. Robin had small mind to go on playing the lady indefinitely. He believed the Black Domino remained in Letty’s memory, but he had little chance of seeing her as the days passed. She was out driving, or she was visiting, or even she was indisposed. When he did meet her she was abstracted, and volunteered no confidences. There were shadows under her eyes: her aunt said it was no wonder, since nowadays she was seldom in bed before midnight; Robin dared to hope a Black Domino had induced this wistfulness.
Prudence thought nothing at all of it; she was rather preoccupied with her own affairs, and showed but slight interest even when Robin spoke of John’s new behaviour. Robin became aware of the frequent absences of his faithful henchman, and receiving only evasive replies to a sharp question or two, immediately suspected activity on the part of my Lord Barham. Prudence said placidly that it was very possible she thought they were like to know all soon enough.
She was right: in a short while my lord came to pay a morning visit in Arlington Street, and having rapturously kissed my Lady Lowestoft’s hands, requested the favour of some private talk with his son.
My lady opined mischief to be brewing, shook a playful finger, and went off most obligingly.