“An excellent notion, my dear, but the Crown is already bringing an action against him for murdering Sir Matthew Plunkett.”
“Never heard of him,” said Sir Hugh. “Not that I’m against it, mind you. A fellow who creeps about in a demmed loo-mask—”
“Sir Matthew Plunkett,” said Miss Thane patiently, “is the man Ludovic was accused of murdering two years ago. You must know that Ludovic will now be able to stop living in the cellar, and take up his rightful position at Lavenham Court.”
“Well, I must say I’m glad to hear that,” said Sir Hugh. “It never seemed to me healthy for him to be spending all his time in the cellar. I think if it’s true that he’s going to come into his inheritance, I’ll go and speak to him about that horse before it slips my memory.”
He left the room as he spoke. Eustacie, finding her tongue, blurted out: “But, Sarah, do you want to marry Tristram?”
Miss Thane’s eyes twinkled. “My love, when a female reaches my advanced years, she cannot be picking and choosing, you know. She must be content with the first respectable offer she receives.”
“Oh, now I know that you are laughing at me!” Eustacie said. “But I do not understand it. I find it quite extraordinary!”
“The truth is,” said Miss Thane confidentially, “that I cannot any longer bear his odious way of calling me ma’am. There was no other means of putting an end to it.”
“But, Sarah, consider! You are romantic, and he is not romantic at all!”
“I know,” replied Miss Thane, “but I assure you I mean to come to an understanding with him before the knot is tied ... Either I have his solemn promise to ride ventre à terre to my deathbed or there will be no marriage!”