“I suppose there is not the need. But I should like to know how you had wind of the elopement.”
My lord gazed at him. “Wind of it? I planned it!” he said magnificently.
The smile died on Sir Anthony’s lips; he stopped twirling his quizzing-glass. He opened his mouth to speak, and shut it again, as though he could find no words.
“You amaze the large gentleman, sir,” said Robin dryly. “I am not altogether surprised.”
Sir Anthony swung round. “Were you in this?” he asked, and there was that in his voice which made Prudence grimace oddly. “Am I to believe you were party to such a scheme?”
“Acquit me, kind sir. My indignation almost equalled yours.”
Sir Anthony looked at him a moment, and appeared to be satisfied. He turned back to my lord, who was still dwelling fondly on his son’s prowess. “You must explain a little further, sir, if you please. I suppose you had some reason for this.”
The compelling gaze rested on him. “Certainly!” said my lord. “Be very sure of it. I regard the whole affair as one of my chefs d’oeuvres.”
“Do you indeed?” Sir Anthony was again sardonic. “Make it plain to me, sir. I beg of you! I am unable to appreciate it at present.”
Prudence interposed. “You had best be frank with Tony, sir. He knows us for escaped Jacobites.”