Lady Pomfret noted what was left in the decanter.
“Our news justified, perhaps, one glass, Geoffrey, not two.”
“Tut, tut! Well, Joyce, I’ll wager that my lady surprised you, hay?”
Joyce hesitated and was lost. A town girl might have dissembled, but George Hamlin’s daughter had inherited her father’s uncompromising code. Nevertheless, she replied with self-possession.
“Not surprised exactly, Sir Geoffrey.”
“Bless my soul! Why not—why not?”
“You see I had a letter from Lionel by the same post.”
Obviously, the Squire was taken aback, Lady Pomfret raised her delicate brows. Joyce continued hastily:
“He does write a jolly letter, so like himself, so full of fun.”
“Um! Quite—quite.”