“Are you trying to blackmail me?” There was an ugly light in the Duke’s eyes.
Sir Dugald laughed. “Why put the matter so crudely?” he said. “I am merely anxious that justice should be done. You ought to be grateful to Providence for giving you this opportunity.”
“Opportunity?”
“To right the wrong that has been committed.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I refer to Miss Lawrence’s parentage.”
“One fails to see that her parentage is any business of yours or mine.”
“It is certainly business of yours,” was the sardonic answer; “and it is going to be mine because I am determined that matters shall take their present course. Lady Muriel and I intend to marry, and Mr. Dinneford and Miss Lawrence ought to marry.”
The Duke gazed at him with an air of blank stupefaction.
“I invite you to give the matter very careful consideration.” Sir Dugald had constrained a harsh accent to the point of mellowness. “Let me say at once that if you don’t withdraw your opposition it is in my power to make myself rather unpleasant.”