“I did not speak,” replied Sir Tristram, eyeing her frostily.
Miss Thane met his look with one of limpid innocence. “Oh, I quite thought you did!”
“I choked,” explained Sir Tristram. “Pray continue! You had reached my tyrannical disposition.”
“Precisely,” nodded Sarah. “You refused to accede to Eustacie’s request, thus leaving her no alternative to instant flight. But now that you have seen me, you realize that I am a respectable female, altogether a proper person to have the charge of a young lady, and you relent.”
The corners of his mouth twitched slightly. “Do I?” he said.
“Certainly. We arrange that Eustacie shall stay with me in London on a visit. All is in train for our departure when my brother, finding his cold to be no better, declares himself to be unable to risk the dangers of travel in this inclement weather. Which reminds me,” she added, rising from her chair, “that I had better go and inform Hugh that his cold is worse.”
A little while later, coming down from Sir Hugh’s bedchamber, she found Sir Tristram waiting in the coffee-room. He looked up as she rounded the bend in the stairs, and said sardonically: “I trust you were able to convince your brother, ma’am?”
“It was unnecessary,” she returned. “Nye has taken him up a bottle of Old Constantia. He thinks it would be foolhardy to brave the journey to London until he is perfectly recovered.”
“I thought he held strong views on the subject of smuggled liquor?” remarked Sir Tristram.
“He does,” replied Miss Thane, not in the least abashed. “Very strong views.” She went to the fire and seated herself on one of the high-backed settles placed on either side of it. A gesture invited Sir Tristram to occupy the other. “I think those two children will make a match of it, do not you?”