“I have sent him to clear it away, sir, but don’t you realize they’ll be able to trace you all the way from the Forest?”
“Of course I realize it! Haven’t I made my plans? Eustacie, my sweet cousin, will you have me for your groom?”
“But yes, I will have you for anything you wish!” said Eustacie instantly.
His eyes danced. “Will you so? Begad, if I can settle my affairs creditably I’ll remind you of that!”
“Sir, will you listen to reason?” implored Nye.
An imperious finger admonished him. “Quiet, you! I’ll thank you to remember I’m in the saddle now, Joe.”
“Are you indeed, Mr Ludovic? Well, I’ll do no pillion-riding behind you, for well I know what will come of it!”
“Take away this gruel!” commanded Ludovic. “And get it into your head that I’m not Mr Ludovic! I’m mademoiselle’s groom, whom the wicked smugglers fired at.” He cocked his head, considering. “I think I’ll be called Jem,” he decided. “Jem Brown.”
“No!” said Eustacie, revolted. “It is a name of the most undistinguished.”
“Well, grooms aren’t distinguished. I think it’s a good name.”