“At least I must try,” Brilliana declared. “Am I not the King’s viceroy in Oxfordshire, and are not the two money-bags my proclaimed adorers? It will go hard with me but I compel them to swell the King’s exchequer.”
“You have done marvels,” Halfman admitted. “Can you work miracles? With all due reverence, I doubt. But we shall soon see, for here comes Tiffany tiptoe through the trees. I’ll wager it is to herald one of the vultures.”
As he spoke, Tiffany tripped in pink and grinning.
“My lady,” said she, “Master Paul Hungerford has ridden in and seeks audience.”
Brilliana clapped her hands.
“Go, bring him in, Tiffany; and, Tiffany child, if Master Peter Rainham comes, as I shrewdly expect, keep him apart, on your life, till I know of his coming.”
Tiffany vanished. Brilliana turned to Halfman.
“Stay with me, captain, and aid me to trap these badgers.”
Halfman smiled delight. “I will help you extempore,” he promised. “I will eke out my part with impromptus.”
He stood a little apart, grim mirth in his eyes, as Tiffany ushered into the circle a lean, shabby country-gentleman, whose habit would have shamed a scarecrow. Tiffany disappeared and the new-comer made Brilliana an awkward bow. “Sweet lady, you sent for me and I come, love, quickly.”