Sherry, reading the puzzlement in his face, said: “We were married yesterday. Matter of fact, we made a runaway match of it, but all quite above board, you know. And that means that that damned Trust comes to an end. You won’t have to deal with my uncles any longer.”
Mr Stoke met his eye. “May I say, my lord, that I shall be glad?”
“Mighty pretty of you,” grinned Sherry.
Mr Stoke regarded the tips of his fingers. “I believe I have repeatedly informed Mr Verelst that the sums of money drawn by Mr Paulett for the maintenance of Sheringham Place and Sheringham House have appeared to me to be in excess of what could be considered necessary. I fancy your lordship is aware of this.”
“Lord, yes, you told me of it an age since! I shall leave all that business — the estate, you know — in your hands, Stoke,” he promised.
Mr Stoke permitted himself to smile primly. “I fancy I may assure your lordship that Mr Paulett will not out-jockey me,” he said.
“No, I’ll wager he won’t! But never mind that now! The first thing is to find a house.”
“But has your lordship forgotten that there is already a house belonging to you in Grosvenor Square?”
“No, that’s just it: we don’t like it. Just been to take a look at the place, and of all the curst gloomy holes I ever was in — why, it’s worse than Brooks’s! What we want is a snug little house where we can be comfortable.”
“Do I understand your lordship to be desirous of disposing of Sheringham House?” asked Mr Stoke, very much shocked.