She put down the slice of bread and butter she had been in the act of raising to her lips. “My lord, did you indeed marry me to that man?” she demanded.
“Certainly not: I am not in orders. You were married by the vicar of the parish.”
“That is nothing to the purpose! You know very well it was all your doing! But I hoped I might have dreamed it! Oh, dear, what a coil it is! How came I to do such a thing?”
“You did it to oblige me,” he said soothingly.
“I did not. Oblige you, indeed! When you as good as kidnapped me!”
“Kidnapped you?” exclaimed John. “No, no, I am sure he would not do such a thing, ma’am! Ned, you were not so mad?”
“Of course I was not. Accident brought you to Highnoons, Mrs. Cheviot, and if, when you were there, I overpersuaded you a trifle—”
“Well, that is what you say, but from what I have been privileged to see of you, my lord, I should not be surprised to find it had all been a plot to entrap me! I was asked by the servant if I had come in answer to the advertisement. Did you indeed advertise for a wife for your cousin?”
“Yes, I did,” he replied. “In the columns of The Times. You may often see such advertisements.”
She regarded him speechlessly. John said, “It is very true. But I own I do not consider it a respectable thing to do. I was always against it. Heaven knows what kind of female might have arrived at Highnoons! But as it chances, it has all turned out for the best.”