It was possible, but Emrys didn't care. For almost a year now, his life had been blameless, and, strangely, it suited him to live that way. "I'm here in this house most of the time. It wouldn't be hard for him to figure out where he could find me."
The gong sounded again. Dyall looked undecided.
"If I can forgive him, sir," Emrys said gently, "surely you can."
"Show him in," Dyall rasped to the machine.
Megan rose to go, but Emrys kept hold of her small, cold hand. "I'd like you to meet Peter Hubbard, dear. He's really a nice old fellow when you get to know him. Just a bit too much of a do-gooder, that's all."
Dyall snorted.
"I shall be glad to know any friend of yours, Emrys," Megan said, sitting down again obediently.
After a moment, Peter Hubbard came into the room. "Peter, this is my fiancée, Megan Dyall." Smilingly, Emrys waited for the usual inane felicitations. He couldn't expect a man of Hubbard's age to be bowled over by this loveliness, but still surely no man, no matter how ancient, could be completely insensible to the girl's charm.
Hubbard stood still and stared at her. "Amazing...." he murmured. "Amazing...." Then he turned to Dyall. "You are to be congratulated, sir."
Emrys was annoyed. He knew Hubbard was too well-bred to make a remark like that unintentionally. However, he pretended to be amused and said, "You're supposed to congratulate me, Peter."