Martin grinned, but merely said that he would drive the curricle to the stables. The Viscount ran down the steps, exclaiming wrathfully: “I’ll teach you to hoax me, Ger! What the devil have you been about?”
“Minding my own business,” replied Gervase, with one of his mischievous looks.
The Viscount helped him to descend from the curricle. “You deserve to be laid-up for a week! Let me tell you, I was just about to come in search of you!”
“Unnecessary, Lucy! Martin was before you, and, as you see, has driven me home. I am not in the least knocked-up, I assure you.”
“Just as well!” said the Viscount. “There’s another on the sick-list now!”
“Oh?” said the Earl, beginning to mount the steps. “Who?”
“Miss Morville. Fell downstairs, or something. Sick as a cushion!”
“Miss Morville?” said Gervase quickly. “Is she much hurt?”
“Broken her arm. Can’t think how she came to do it!”
“Good God!” exclaimed Gervase, swiftly mounting the remaining steps.