His lordship flushed, and looked so hurt that Miss Grantham was sorry, and might have unsaid her words had she not recollected in time that it was no part of her policy to appear in an amiable light to him. She got up, saying in a cool voice: must go down to speak to Silas for a minute. Do you tell the rest of the tale to Phoebe! I am afraid I am very stupid, as I care nothing for driving, or curricle-racing, or horses. I shall come back presently, when you will be able to talk of something else, I hope!”
Lord Mablethorpe rose, and opened the door for her. When she had passed out of the-room, Phoebe said shyly: “Don’t be offended! I think she is a little worried over something. I am sure she did not mean it! She is so kind, and good!”
“I am afraid I have been very tedious,” he said. “The thing is, I found it so exciting—But it is different for you, naturally!”
“Oh no!” she said involuntarily. “I think it is the most exciting thing I ever heard! Indeed, I do! Please, please tell me the rest!”
Almost without knowing what she did, she stretched out her hand to him as she spoke. He came across the room towards her, and took her hand, and held it, looking at her with such a warm, loving expression in his eyes that her heart stood still. “Oh, Phoebe, you are so very sweet,” he said. “I do love you so dearly!”
Chapter 14
Two large tears welled up in Miss Laxton’s eyes, and rolled down her cheeks. “Oh, Adrian,” she said brokenly.
The next instant she was in his arms, and his lordship had forgotten both the race and his betrothal to Miss Grantham, but was wholly occupied in kissing Phoebe, drying her wet cheeks, and assuring her that she should never be unhappy or frightened again. It was she who came to earth first, raising her head from his shoulder, relinquishing her clutch on the cape of his coat, and saying in a drowned voice: “We must not! Deborah!”
His lordship let her go. She sat up, swallowing a sob, and they looked at one another, two troubled young people caught up by fate and unable to see the way to free themselves. His lordship gave a groan, and dropped his head between his clenched fists. “I must have been mad!”
“Oh no!” Phoebe said, dabbing at her eyes with a small handkerchief. “She is so very lovely, and kind, and—and—oh dear!”
“I thought I loved her. But I don’t. I love you, Phoebe! What are we to do?”
Miss Laxton’s eyes brimmed over again. “You will marry her, and I shall g-go into a nunnery, or s-something. You will soon f-forget me,” she said bravely.
This frightful picture of the future made Adrian raise his head, and say forcefully: “No!”
“But what can we do?” asked Phoebe. “I cannot marry Deb.”
Miss Laxton turned pale. “Oh, you can never tell her so!” An appalled silence fell. His lordship got up, and began to pace about the room. “If I don’t tell her, we shall all three of us be made unhappy.”
“No, no! She will never know, and you will forget this!”
“I shall never forget!” said Adrian fiercely. “And I could not pretend to Deb. She would guess the truth.”
“But it would be such a dreadful thing for you to do!” whispered Phoebe.
His lordship was almost as pale as she. “Yes. I know,” he said. “But she has not said yet that she will marry me. Perhaps—perhaps she does not mean to.”
She looked astonished. “But I thought—you told me—”
“Yes, yes, but it was never said in so many words! She used to laugh at me when I asked her to marry me. Then—then it did seem to me that she had changed towards me, and I thought too—But it is true that she has never yet said it. Phoebe, do you think that she cares for me?”
“Oh, how can she not?” Phoebe exclaimed.
“Well, I do not think that she does. Lately she has been—oh, not cross, but—but different!”
A shocking thought presented itself to Miss Laxton.
“Adrian, can it be that she suspects, and is jealous, or—or hurt?”
Their eyes met; his lordship’s chin seemed to harden. “We must tell her the truth.”
Phoebe sprang up in some agitation. “No, no, I implore you! Only consider how frightful it must appear! She invited me to her house, and has been everything that is kind! How could I possibly steal you from her? I would rather die!”
His lordship quite saw the force of this argument, but he was not satisfied with it. “Yes, but you did not steal me,” he said. “We did not mean to fall in love! We could not help ourselves, and that she will surely understand! You are blameless at least! It is I who deserve to be horse-whipped!”
It was not to be expected that Miss Laxton could agree with this judgement. She began to argue the point, laying the blame at her own door, and finding all manner of excuses, for his lordship. He would not allow it, and the next few minutes were spent in a singularly profitless discussion, which might, indeed, have lasted for hours, had not his lordship perceived the uselessness of it, and silenced Miss Laxton by kissing her.
“Oh!” said Miss Laxton, burying her face in his coat. “If you do that, how can I behave as I ought? You must not, Adrian! Oh, please, you must not!”
“My conduct has been everything of the most damnable!” said his lordship, determined not to understate the case. “But it would be worse if I were to marry Deb. I have no doubts on that score. I must confess the whole to her, and throw myself on her generosity. If there had been an acknowledged engagement, the case would be hopeless indeed, for as a man of honour I could not draw back, exposing her to the world as a female who had been jilted. But it is not so! No one knows of the engagement but my mother and cousin. I cannot deceive Deb. I will not, indeed! She must be told the truth, and at once.”
“I am ready to sink!” declared Miss Laxton, grasping a chairback for support. “What will she think of me?”
“What will she think of me?” asked his lordship.
Happily for them both, Miss Grantham chose that moment to come back into the room. “Well, and is the race over?” she asked. “Have you come to the end of all your hairbreadth escapes, or am I too soon?”
Miss Laxton turned away to stare into the fire. Lord Mablethorpe braced himself, and said resolutely: “We have not been talking about the race, Deb. There is something I must say to you.”
“No!” whispered Miss Laxton faintly, as one in honour bound.
His lordship ignored this small protest. “I do not know what you will think of me, Deb. There can be no words bad enough to describe my conduct!”
“No, no! Mine!” gasped Miss Laxton.
“Phoebe is blameless,” said his lordship manfully. “You will realize that, I know, however hardly you may think of me! She would have had you remain in ignorance of the whole! But I cannot! I am determined to tell you the truth, for I am persuaded that nothing but misery could come of keeping it from you!”
Miss Grantham’s sense of humour got the better of her at this point, and, tottering towards a chair, she sank into it, exclaiming in tragic accents: “Oh heavens! I am betrayed!”
His lordship blenched; both he and Miss Laxton regarded her with guilty dismay.
Miss Grantham buried her face in her handkerchief, and uttered one shattering word: “Wretch!”
His lordship swallowed, and squared his shoulders. “I am aware in what an odious light my conduct must appear to you, and I cannot attempt to excuse it,” he said. “Only, I did not mean to do it: it was something I could not help, Deb, indeed, it was! And I thought you had rather I told you than—than—”
Miss Grantham gave a shriek. “You have trifled with me!” she said, into the folds of her handkerchief. “You promised me marriage, and now you mean to cast me off for Another!”
Lord Mablethorpe and Miss Laxton exchanged stricken glances.
“I never thought I should live to be slighted!” pursued Miss Grantham. “Oh, was ever any defenceless female so deceived?”
Lord Mablethorpe and Miss Laxton instinctively held hands for mutual support. “Oh no, do not say so!” implored Phoebe. “He will soon forget me!”