“If he had been in the house I dare say I should have done so, but he was gone out!”
“Yes, I took care of that,” he remarked, turning and coming back to the fire.
Her bosom swelled. “I am obliged to you, my lord! I now perceive the worth of your compliments!”
He smiled. “Oh, not for fear of anything you might do, ma’am! But whatever Francis Cheviot chose to do I did not wish Nicky to hinder.”
She sniffed, and relapsed into defiant silence. After sipping her wine for a few minutes her eye alighted on the macaroons, and she absently took one and began to eat it, realizing that she was hungry and had not, in fact, eaten anything since breakfast. A couple of these cakes did much to restore the serenity of her temper. She looked up, found Carlyon regarding her with a lurking twinkle, and suddenly laughed. “Well, you have used me abominably, but to be sure I might have known that you would, for you have done so from the outset! But what will Mr. Cheviot do when he discovers that there is nothing in that clock?”
“That remains to be seen, ma’am. Will you excuse me while I send a message out to your groom? I think he should go back at once to Highnoons to inform Miss Beccles that you are safely in my charge and that I shall convey you home in my carriage after dinner.”
She made a halfhearted protest which was not attended to. He left the room and was giving the butler his instructions in the hall when John Carlyon walked into the house, carrying his gun and a couple of rabbits, which he handed to the footman.
“Hallo, Ned, so you are back!” he remarked. “I stayed in all the morning on the chance that I might be obliged to go over to Highnoons, but no message came, and so I thought I might as well see if I could come by any sport while I am at home.”
Carlyon nodded. “I was informed you had done so. Come into the library!”
“I will do so when I have washed my hands,” John promised.