He moved away from the window, and pulled a chair out from the table. ‘Come and sit down!’ he said curtly.
‘But, sir—’
‘Do as I bid you!’
She came reluctantly to the chair and sat down on the edge of it, looking up at him in a little trepidation.
He drew his snuff-box from his pocket and nicked it open. ‘You, I apprehend, are Miss Saltwood,’ he stated.
‘Well, I am Dorothea Saltwood,’ she amended. ‘My sister Augusta is Miss Saltwood, because no one has offered for her yet. And that is why I am not yet out, though I am turned nineteen! But how did you know my name is Saltwood?’
He raised a pinch of snuff to one nostril. ‘I was present, ma’am, when your brother insulted Rotherfield.’
She seemed grieved. ‘At that horrid gaming-hell?’
‘On the contrary! At an exclusive club, to which few of us, I fancy, know how Lord Saltwood gained admission.’
She flushed. ‘He prevailed upon that stupid creature, Torryburn, to take him there. I dare say he should not have done so, but Lord Rotherfield need not have given him such a set-down! You will own it was the unkindest thing!’
‘Certainly,’ he said. ‘Pray do not think that I have the smallest desire to defend Rotherfield! But in justice to his lordship I must tell you that your brother offered him an insupportable insult. His lordship has many faults—indeed, I sometimes think I dislike him more than anyone of my acquaintance!—but I assure you that in all matters of play he is scrupulous. Forgive me if I venture to suggest, ma’am, that your brother will be the better for a sharp lesson, to teach him, in future, not to accuse a gentleman of using loaded dice!’
‘Indeed I know it was very bad, but if he meets Lord Rotherfield he won’t have a future!’
‘This is high Cheltenham tragedy with a vengeance!’ he replied, amused. ‘Rotherfield will scarcely proceed to such extremes as you dread, my dear child!’
‘They say he never misses!’ she uttered, her cheeks blanched.
‘Then he will hit Saltwood precisely where he means to.’
‘They must not, and they shall not meet!’ she said earnestly. ‘I am persuaded that if I can only tell Lord Rotherfield how it is with Charlie, he cannot be so cruel as to persist in this affair!’
‘You would be better advised to prevail upon your brother to apologize for his conduct.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed mournfully. ‘That is what Bernard said, but the thing is that Lord Rotherfield is so deadly a shot that Charlie would never, never do that, because everyone would think he was afraid to meet him!’
‘And who, may I ask, is Bernard?’
‘Mr Wadworth. We have known him for ever, and he is one of Charlie’s seconds. It was he who told me about it. I made him do so. I promised I would not disclose to Charlie that he had breathed a word to me, so what can I do but throw myself upon Lord Rotherfield’s mercy?’
‘Lord Rotherfield, as you are aware, has no mercy. You would, moreover, be doing Mr Wadworth a vast disservice if you were to betray to anyone the impropriety of his conduct in speaking one word to you on this subject.’
‘Oh, dear, I would not injure him for the world, poor Bernard! But I have told you already, sir!’
‘Your confidence is quite safe in my keeping.’
She smiled engagingly up at him. ‘Indeed, I know it must be! You are so very kind! But I am determined to see Lord Rotherfield.’
‘And I am determined that you shall return to your home. Rotherfield’s is no house for you to visit in this style. Good God, if it should become known that you had done so—!’
She got up, clasping her hands. ‘Yes, but it is desperate! If anything were to happen to Charlie, it would kill Mama! I assure you, it is of no consequence what becomes of me! Augusta says I am bound to ruin myself, because I have no notion how I should go on, so I might as well ruin myself now as later, don’t you think?’
‘I do not!’ he replied, laughing. ‘Oh, don’t look so much distressed, you absurd child! Will you trust me to see that no harm comes to your tiresome brother?’
She stared at him, sudden hope in her eyes. ‘You, sir? Oh, will you see Lord Rotherfield, and explain to him that it was only that poor Charlie has been so sadly indulged, because my father died when he was a little boy, and Mama would not let him go to school, or permit anyone to cross him, and he has only just come to town, and he does not know how to guard his temper, or—’
He interrupted this tumbled speech, possessing himself of one agitated little hand, and kissing it lightly. ‘Rest assured I will not allow Lord Rotherfield to hurt poor Charlie at all!’
‘Will he listen to you?’ she asked doubtfully. ‘Augusta’s particular friend, Miss Stanstead, says he is a very proud, disagreeable man, and cares nothing for anyone’s opinion.’
‘Very true, but I have it in my power to compel him to do what I wish. You may safely trust in me.’
She heaved a relieved sigh, and again the enchanting smile trembled on her lips. ‘Oh yes! I do, sir! It is the oddest thing, for, to own the truth, I was a little afraid when you pulled back the curtain. You looked at me in such a way! But that was quite my own fault, and I saw in a trice that there was not the smallest need for me to be afraid. You are so very kind! I don’t know how I may thank you.’
‘Forget that I looked at you in such a way, and I shall be satisfied. I am going to take you home now. I think you said that no one knew you had left the house. Have you the means to enter it again without being seen by the servants?’ She nodded, a gleam of mischief in her big eyes. The amusement in his deepened. ‘Abominable girl! Lady Saltwood has my sincere sympathy!’
‘I know I have behaved shockingly,’ she said contritely. ‘But what was I to do? And you must own that it has come about for the best, sir! For I have saved Charlie, and I know you will never tell anyone what a scrape I have been in. I hope—I hope you don’t truthfully think me abominable?’
‘If I were to tell you what I truthfully think, I should be abominable. Come! I must convey you home, my little one.’
2
Never did a young gentleman embarking on his first affair of honour receive less encouragement from his seconds than Lord Saltwood received from Sir Francis Upchurch and Mr Wadworth. Sir Francis, being inarticulate, did little more than shake his head, but Mr Wadworth, presuming upon an acquaintance with his principal which dated from the cradle, did not hesitate to speak his mind. ‘Made a dashed cake of yourself!’ he said.
‘Worse!’ said Sir Francis, contributing his mite.
‘Much worse!’ corroborated Mr Wadworth. ‘Devilish bad ton, Charlie! You were foxed, of course.’
‘I wasn’t. At least, not very much.’
‘Drunk as a wheelbarrow. I don’t say you showed it, but you must have been!’
‘Stands to reason!’ said Sir Francis.
‘No right to bully Torryburn into taking you to the Corinthian dub in the first place. Above your touch, my boy! Told you so, when you asked me to take you. No right to have stayed there after Rotherfield gave you that setdown.’
Lord Saltwood ground his teeth. ‘He need not have said that!’
‘No, I dare say he need not. Got a nasty tongue. But that don’t signify. You’d no right to accuse him of using Fulhams!’
Sir Francis shuddered, and closed his eyes for an anguished moment.
‘Ought to have begged his pardon then and there,’ pursued Mr Wadworth relentlessly. ‘Instead of that, dashed well forced a quarrel on him!’