He laughed, and got up. “No, I think not, ma’am. After all, you might not be able to prevent her, you know; in which event I should have wasted my money.”
Lady Bellingham sighed. “It would not be wasted,” she said sadly. “However, I did not suppose that you would consent to do it.”
“Don’t despair, ma’am! I may yet lose a fortune at your faro-bank.”
“I wish you may, but I dare say you will break the bank instead,” said her ladyship pessimistically.
Mr Ravenscar did not go to these lengths, but his luck was decidedly in that evening, and Lady Bellingham could only feel glad when he finally rose from the table, and went away.
He was somewhat reassured by what she had said to him, for he could not suppose that she would have offered to prevent her niece’s marrying Mablethorpe if Miss Grantham had been even then on her way to Gretna Green. He tried to put the affair out of mind, and if he did not entirely succeed, at least he was not conscious of feeling much anxiety on his cousin’s behalf. He was merely conscious of a strong desire to see Miss Grantham again.
He had some days to wait before this wish could be gratified. Though a great many letters and invitation-cards were delivered at his house, none of them bore Miss Grantham’s handwriting on them. Mr Ravenscar developed a habit of tossing over his correspondence with an impatient hand, and his servants noticed that whenever they brought him a note on a tray he would pick it up with much more eagerness than he was in the habit of betraying, and then look out of reason cross. They drew their own conclusions, and shook their heads over it.
It was a week before Mr Ravenscar received any tidings of Miss Grantham’s whereabouts. He was driving himself home from the village of Kensington one afternoon when he came slap upon Lord Mablethorpe, riding along Piccadilly towards him. His lordship bore signs of travel upon his slim person, his topboots being generously splashed with mud, and his horse’s legs mired to the knees. He saw his cousin’s curricle approaching him, and waved.
The street was rather crowded, but Mr Ravenscar pulled up his greys, and waited for Mablethorpe to come up to the curricle. It struck him that his lordship was looking radiantly happy, and it was in rather a sharp tone that he said: “So you are back at last!”
“Yes, this instant!” Adrian said, curbing his horse’s wish to shy at a top-heavy wagon which was coming down the street. “I have just set Deb down in St James’s Square, and am on my way to Brook Street. I must not stay: I must see my mother immediately! Oh, Max, I am the happiest man alive! I have so much to tell you! You will never guess where I have been!”
“I was informed,” said Ravenscar, his brow as black as thunder, “that you had gone to stay with Tom Waring!”
Adrian laughed, and brought his sidling horse round again. “I know, but it was not so! Max, I am married!”
“Married!”
Mr Ravenscar must have jobbed at the greys’ sensitive mouths, for they began to plunge, and his lordship was obliged to rein back out of the way.
“I knew I should surprise you!” he called. “I will come round to tell you about it later! It is too long a story, and there is no telling it here! Besides, I must see my mother first. Goodbye! I will see you presently!”
He waved his whip, and rode on; Mr Ravenscar, very white about the mouth, drove straight to St James’s Square. Arriving at Lady Bellingham’s house, he thrust the reins into his groom’s hands, said curtly: “Keep them moving!” jumped down from the box, and strode up the steps to Lady Bellingham’s door.
It was opened to him by Silas Wantage, who grinned, and said: “It’s wonderful, so it is, the way you do keep coming to the house, sir, as though there hadn’t never been what you might call unpleasantness!”
“Desire Miss—” Ravenscar stopped. His grim mouth hardened. “Desire Miss Grantham to accord me the favour of a few words with her—alone!” he said.
Mr Wantage eyed him shrewdly, and stroked his chin. “Ay, but I’m not sure as Miss Deb is receiving visitors today,” he said.
“Take my message to her!” Ravenscar said fiercely.
Mr Wantage opened his eyes very wide at this, but apparently decided to obey. He showed Mr Ravenscar into the small parlour at the back of the hall, and left him there while he went to deliver his message to Miss Grantham.
Deborah was in her bedchamber, having just taken off her hat and her travelling-cloak. She was giving her aunt a lively description of her journey when Silas scratched on the door, but when she heard who was below, she hesitated, blushed, and said. “Very well, I will come down.”
“If you were to ask me, Miss Deb, I should have to tell you that if ever I saw a cove in the devil’s own temper I’ve seen it just now, when I opened the door to Mr Ravenscar,” Silas warned her.
“Oh, dear! He must have heard the news!” said Miss Grantham ruefully. “I did hope he would not mind so very much!”
“Maybe I’d better come with you,” suggested Wantage, who had not yet given up hope of enjoying a bout of fisticuffs with Mr Ravenscar.
“Certainly not! He cannot eat me, after all!”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” said Mr Wantage darkly.
But Miss Grantham only laughed, and dismissed him, turning to arrange her hair in the mirror, and to straighten the fall of lace over her bosom. She then told her aunt she expected to be back directly, and went downstairs to the back-parlour.
Mr Ravenscar, who was standing staring out of the window, jerking his driving-gloves between his hands, swung round at her entrance, and looked across at her with wrath and the most bitter contempt in his face. “So!” he said bitingly. “Stand there, ma’am! Let me take a good look at you! You have tricked me finely, have you not?”
“Well, yes, I suppose I did trick you a little,” confessed Miss Grantham. “But it is not so very bad, after all!”
“I thought I had been mistaken in you! By God, the only mistake I made was in giving you credit for a little common honesty!” he flung at her. “You are a cheating baggage, ma’am!”
Do not put on that air of outraged innocence, I beg of you! A drab from the stews would have scorned to behave as you have! I came to take a look at you, knowing you for the jade you are! You have a beautiful face, I will grant, and you are false to the bottom of your heart—if heart you possess!”
Miss Grantham blinked and gasped under this hail of words, and could only stammer: “Are you m-mad? If I deceived you, at least I have done nothing to provoke you to such anger as this! It may not be a brilliant match for Adrian, and I own he is a trifle young to be setting up his establishment, but you will see how well it will answer!”
“No, that I shall not!” he retorted. “Mine is one foot that will not cross the threshold, be sure!”
“Oh, this is nothing but the stupidest prejudice!” she exclaimed. “I warn you, you had better not talk to Adrian in this vein, if you value his regard for you, for he is as deep in love as can be, and will very likely call you out for saying such things of his wife!”
“His wife!” he ejaculated bitterly. “My God, his wife!”
Miss Grantham came forward into the middle of the room. “I see no reason for all this scorn,” she said. “You are angry because you were hoodwinked, but that was as much Adrian’s doing as mine. Do not think to come browbeating me, Mr Ravenscar! I will not bear such treatment! And if you dare to call me by one more vile name I will hit you! As for the bills, and the mortgage which you were so obliging as to send me, you shall have them back, and you shall be paid every penny!”
“Yes! By Mablethorpe!” he said, with a short laugh. “I thank you, ma’am, I want none of them back! But if Mablethorpe had known the full story, do you think that he would have married you? Do you?”
Miss Grantham stood as though turned to stone, colour flooding her cheeks as the sense of his words dawned upon her.
He did not fail to mark this flush, and said: “I am happy to see that you can blush, ma’am! I had not thought it possible!”