Читать книгу Miss In A Man's World - ANNE ASHLEY, Anne Ashley - Страница 6

Spring 1802

‘Why don’t you change your mind, Finch, and spend a week or two with Louise and me? You know how very fond of you she is. Why, she has come to look upon you as a brother! She will adore having you to stay.’

Viscount Fincham regarded his companion from behind half-closed lids. Anyone studying him might have been forgiven for supposing he had been on the verge of sleep during the past few minutes, for he had not uttered a single word since seating himself by the window in the crowded hostelry. Nor had he attempted to sample the tankard of ale the landlord had placed before him. None knew better, however, than the gentleman seated opposite that behind that languid air of blissful unconcern lurked a razor-sharp intellect, an astuteness that was frighteningly keen and occasionally quite disturbing.

An expanse of fine lace fell over one long-fingered hand as the Viscount reached for his tankard and finally sampled its contents. ‘You are in error, my dear Charles. Being heartily bored with life at present, I should make sad company for Louise. Or anyone else, come to that. Besides which, your darling wife has enough to contend with. She would not choose to put up with my megrims so close to her confinement.’

Knowing better than to attempt to persuade his friend to change his mind and accept the invitation, Charles Gingham merely said, ‘What you need, old fellow, is what I’ve been blessed to have these past years—the love of a good woman.’

White, even teeth showed behind a wickedly flashing smile. ‘Evidently you forget I have one already. Caroline is, without doubt, the most skilful I’ve ever had.’

Charles gave vent to a derisive snort. ‘I’m not talking about your birds of paradise, Ben. Good Lord! You’ve had enough of those down the years. And not one of ‘em has meant so much as a groat to you, if I’m any judge. No, what you need is a wife, a lady you will love and cherish, someone who will give your life a new direction, some purpose.’

This time the Viscount’s smile was decidedly twisted, revealing more than just a hint of cynicism. ‘I hardly think that is ever likely to happen, my dear friend. No, perhaps in a year or two I shall marry, if only to beget an heir. After all, a fellow in my position is never short of candidates for a wife. I have the hopeful little darlings parading before me with tiresome regularity every Season in the Marriage Mart. I’m sure if, and when, I take a serious look I shall find at least one female who will meet my exacting standards—divinely fair, impeccably mannered and dutifully biddable.’

Charles Gingham stared across the table, a hint of sadness in his expression. ‘Do you still ponder over what might have been? I know I do. If I hadn’t dragged you across to France with me all those years ago, you might now be a blissfully contented married man.’

‘Do not do offence to your feelings on my account, Charles,’ the Viscount urged him, once again sounding distinctly bored with the topic of conversation. ‘Your sympathy is quite misplaced, believe me. Charlotte Vane, that was, no longer enters my thoughts. She chose to overlook the understanding between us, and marry Wenbury. Had she chosen to await my return from France, she would undoubtedly have eventually become my Viscountess. My brother’s untimely demise was a shock to everyone, not least of all to me. I neither grudged him his superior position in the family, nor craved the title for myself. Fate decreed that I should inherit, however. Had he produced a son, not a daughter, I should have been more than happy to run the estate until my nephew came of age. I would be a liar if I said I do not now enjoy the agreeable benefits the title has afforded me, because I do. And I believe I have carried out my duties with diligence, and consideration towards all those who look to me for their livelihood. I also believe I have a duty to marry one day. But let me assure you that love will never enter into the equation. So long as my future bride, whoever she might be, conducts herself in a ladylike manner at all times, and provides me with the heir I desire, she will not find me unreasonable or exacting in my demands. For the most part she may go her own way, as I fully intend to go mine.’

Charles was appalled by such blatant apathy, and it showed in his expression, and in his voice as he said, ‘I cannot believe you would be so indifferent to the lady you should one day choose to marry. You might fool most all the ton into believing you’re cold and indifferent, but you’ll never persuade me. I know how much Charlotte Vane meant to you. I know what you’re capable of feeling.’

‘Was capable of feeling,’ the Viscount corrected in an ominously quiet tone. ‘Unlike you, Charles, I am no longer a romantic. I leave all that nonsense to the numerous poets of the day. I do not look for love in marriage. Dear Lady Wenbury taught me a very valuable lesson eight years ago. I’ve learned to guard against the—er—more tender emotions. No, I shall be content with a female who behaves at all times with propriety and fulfils all her obligations as my Viscountess.’

No one could have mistaken the note of finality in the deep, attractively masculine voice, least of all the gentleman who had had the honour of being one of the Viscount’s closest friends since the far-off days of their boyhood, and so Charles wasn’t unduly surprised when his lordship tossed the contents of his tankard down his throat and rose to his feet, announcing that they had best leave, or risk missing the start of the mill.

The market town was a hive of activity. Not only was there a prize fight being staged in a field on the outskirts of the thriving community, there was also a horse fair taking place in an adjacent meadow. Visitors wishing to enjoy one or both attractions were making their way along a crowded main street, their ribald comments and guffaws of merriment mingling with street hawkers’ cries as they attempted to sell their wares. So it wasn’t wholly surprising that his lordship, leading the way out of the inn, quite failed to detect that single cry warning him of possible danger. It wasn’t until someone cannoned into him, thereby successfully thrusting him back against the inn wall, out of harm’s way, that he realised one of the drayman’s large barrels had come perilously close to doing him a mischief. He watched it roll harmlessly by before turning his attention to the youthful rescuer at his feet.

‘Good Lord, Ben! Are you all right?’ Charles enquired, emerging from the inn just in time to witness the incident.

‘It would appear I fared rather better than my gallant deliverer here,’ his lordship responded.

Clasping a hand round a far from robust arm, his lordship then helped the youth to his feet, and saw at once a small quantity of blood trickling down the stocking below the left knee. ‘Here, take this, lad!’

After having thrust a square of fine lawn into a surprisingly slender hand, his lordship watched as the youth tied the handkerchief about his leg. ‘Are you hurt anywhere else?’

‘N-no, I do not believe so, sir,’ a gruff little voice answered, before the youth retrieved his tricorn from the dusty cobbled yard, and raised his head at last.

Taken aback slightly, the Viscount found himself blinking several times as he gazed down into the most vivid violet-blue eyes he’d ever seen; framed in long black lashes, they were remarkably striking, and quite wasted on a youth.

Drawing his own away with some difficulty, he requested his friend to locate the landlord’s whereabouts, and then returned his full attention to his unlikely rescuer. ‘Do you live locally? If so, my carriage is at your disposal, and my groom can return you to your home, as soon as the landlord’s good lady wife has seen to your hurts.’

‘There’s no need to trouble, sir. ‘Tis naught but a scratch,’ the boy protested, but his lordship remained adamant.

‘It’s the very least I can do, child, for someone who selflessly saved me from possible injury. Ah, and here’s the very man!’

Tossing the landlord a shiny golden guinea, he bade him take care of the boy by providing whatever his youthful rescuer might request. In view of such generosity, mine host was only too willing to comply, and ushered his somewhat reluctant young customer toward the inn’s main entrance, leaving the Viscount staring after them, his high forehead creased with a decidedly puzzled look.

‘What’s amiss, Ben? You’re not hurt yourself, are you?’

‘What …?’ His lordship managed to drag his mind back to the present without too much difficulty. ‘No, not at all, Charles,’ he assured him, as they set off down the road. ‘It’s just that young lad … Did you notice his eyes, by any chance?’

‘No, can’t say as I did. Why, what was wrong with ‘em? Not crossed, were they?’

The Viscount frowned yet again. ‘No, there was absolutely nothing wrong with them at all. They were perfect, in fact! Perhaps the most striking I’ve ever seen in my life.’

‘No doubt he’ll turn a few fillies’ heads, then, when he’s older,’ Charles suggested, fast losing interest in the topic, for his attention had been well and truly captured by something he considered far more diverting. ‘Looks as if the mill’s about to start. Let’s see if we cannot attain a good vantage point.’

By the time Viscount Fincham had returned to that certain well-kept hostelry, late that same afternoon, he too had successfully thrust the incident earlier in the day, and his youthful rescuer, to the back of his mind. After taking leave of his friend, who lived a mere mile or so the other side of the thriving community, his lordship didn’t delay in heading back to the capital.

As his well-sprung travelling carriage picked up speed, leaving the habitation far behind, Lord Fincham stared absently out of the window, and was considering how best to entertain himself that evening, when he caught sight of a solitary figure, carrying a somewhat battered portmanteau, trudging along the road. Just what it was about the person that instantly captured his interest he was for ever afterwards to wonder. It might have been the set of the slender shoulders, or the brief glimpse of a slightly worn and faded tricorn that struck a chord of memory. All his lordship did know was that he had instinctively reached for his silver-handled walking stick in order to beat a tattoo on the conveyance’s roof, without giving the matter a second thought.

His head groom responded in a trice, and as the carriage drew to a halt his lordship let down the window, and leaned out in order to watch the solitary figure’s approach.

As the youth drew closer, surprised recognition was clearly discernible on the young face. ‘Great heavens! Why, if it isn’t you, sir!’

The boy was more dishevelled than the Viscount remembered. His clothes were now liberally covered in dust, and there were streaks of dirt across his face. He looked decidedly weary, too, as though he had been walking for some considerable time.

A surge of annoyance—borne, he could only suppose, of a guilty conscience—suddenly assailed him, and Lord Fincham found himself saying more sharply than he had intended, ‘Well, don’t just stand there, leaving my horses champing at their bits, lad!’

There was a moment’s hesitation before the youth clambered inside and settled himself opposite, placing the portmanteau carefully on the seat beside him, as though it contained all his worldly goods.

Which was possibly the case, the Viscount ruminated, before his youthful companion asked where he was bound. ‘More importantly, what is your destination?’ his lordship enquired by way of a response. ‘When we—er—bumped into each other earlier, I assumed—quite wrongly, I should imagine—that you resided in the market town.’

‘Oh, no, sir! I was merely exploring the place while I awaited the arrival of the stagecoach to London.’ A rueful expression flickered over delicate features. ‘Unfortunately, the innkeeper’s wife was so very obliging. Not only did she attend to my slight hurts, she also insisted I had something to eat when she learned I hadn’t had a morsel since breaking my fast early this morning. I’m afraid I simply couldn’t resist the offer of sweet game pie and a bowl of broth, and returned to the coaching inn on the other side of town only to discover the stage had departed some thirty minutes previously. The innkeeper there told me of a carrier he knew on the outskirts, but by the time I’d located the premises the carrier had long since departed for the capital, so I decided to continue walking until I found a suitable inn where I might put up for the night.’

‘In that case, your luck’s in, child, for I am bound for the metropolis myself, and can take you wherever you wish to go.’

‘Oh, thank you, sir! That would be most agreeable!’

The smile that accompanied the response was so enchanting that his lordship was quite startled by it. Then the astounding possibility that had momentarily occurred to him at their first encounter once again crossed his mind.

Leaning back against the velvet upholstery, he studied his youthful companion beneath half-shuttered lids. Hair, every bit as black as his own, was confined at the nape of a slender white neck with a length of ribbon. Beneath the tricorn hat the delicately featured face turned slightly, thereby offering him a perfect view of a profile that boasted high cheekbones, a small straight nose, a sweetly shaped mouth with a slightly protruding upper lip, and a perfectly sculptured little chin. Although a frock-coat of good quality adequately concealed the upper body, there was no mistaking the slender straight limbs beneath the knee-breeches and soiled stockings.

‘You have yet to inform me precisely where you are bound, child,’ his lordship reminded his companion, with a satisfied half-smile, as he drew his eyes away from narrow feet shod in buckled shoes.

Those striking orbs once again turned in the Viscount’s direction. ‘Oh, if you could just set me down at some respectable inn, sir, I would be immensely grateful.’

‘Would you, indeed,’ his lordship purred silkily, as he once again cast a speculative glance over his companion’s trim form. ‘Yes, I feel sure we could come to some mutually—er—satisfactory arrangement,’ he added, before he watched one slender hand delve into the portmanteau and draw out a surprisingly bulging leather purse.

‘What would you consider adequate largesse, sir?’

For several seconds his lordship didn’t know whether to feel amused or annoyed. The chit couldn’t be serious! Surely she wasn’t so na?ve as to suppose he was suggesting payment in cash? Or was she?

For several very good reasons Lord Fincham had learned to be mistrustful of the fair sex. Yet, for some obscure reason, which escaped him entirely, he was prepared to give the intriguing little minx opposite, for he no longer doubted her true sex for a moment, the benefit of the doubt. Furthermore, if she wished to continue the charade, then he’d play the game, for the present, at least.

‘Put the purse away, child!’ he ordered, once again more sharply than he had intended, simply because, had the truth been known, he was annoyed with himself for his own indecisiveness where this girl was concerned. ‘I require no payment,’ he said more gently. ‘In view of the service you rendered earlier in the day, it is the very least I can do.’

Even as he said this he was having renewed doubts about their earlier encounter. Had it been all as innocent as it had seemed? Or had the whole incident been very carefully staged by one of his degenerate acquaintances as a jest? For reasons that escaped him entirely, he was once again prepared to give his companion the benefit of the doubt.

‘But as we shall be bearing each other company for the next hour or so, I’d best introduce myself. I am Fincham, Viscount Fincham.’

When she betrayed neither surprise, nor, indeed, any outward sign of discomposure at being in the company of such a distinguished peer of the realm, doubts again assailed him. She must surely have known who he was?

‘And you are?’

A slight hesitation, then, ‘George, my lord George—er—Green.’

The Viscount successfully suppressed a knowing smile. ‘Well, Master Green, are you sure you wouldn’t prefer me to convey you to a relative or friend in the metropolis?’

‘Positive, my lord, for I have neither residing there. But if you could, as I mentioned before, deposit me at some respectable inn, which is not too expensive, I shall be for ever in your debt.’

The hopeful expression was unmistakable. Was she the most accomplished actress who ever drew breath, or in earnest? He remained frustratingly undecided. ‘I might,’ he at last conceded. ‘But first I should very much like to know why you wish to visit the capital?’

The response was prompt enough. ‘In order to find employment, my lord.’

He raised a decidedly sceptical brow at this. ‘Indeed? And what type of employment are you hoping to attain?’

Slender shoulders rose in a shrug. ‘I hadn’t really considered. Maybe a situation in service might suit my purpose best—a footman, perhaps.’

Again his lordship cocked a sceptical brow. ‘How old are you, child?’

Delicate lids lowered. ‘Fifteen, my lord.’

Clearly an untruth. Moreover, one that had been uttered most unwillingly, unless he much mistook the matter. Interesting… . yes, most interesting.

‘A little young for a footman, then,’ he suggested, still willing to play along with the subterfuge. ‘A page, perhaps?’

‘A page,’ she echoed, seeming to consider the possibility. ‘Yes, that might serve very well.’

Dear God, she couldn’t be serious! Her sex would be uncovered in a trice! If she wasn’t in the employ of some prankster, and engaged to entice him into committing some act of folly, then he had possibly done more harm than good by suggesting what he had.

Settling himself back against the plush velvet squabs once more, his lordship experienced a rare pang of conscience, simply because he still couldn’t quite make up his mind about his intriguing travelling companion, which was most unlike him. He was renowned for being a shrewd judge of character, and although it would be true to say he didn’t make snap judgements about people, his first impressions, more often than not, turned out to be accurate.

But young George Green had him well and truly puzzled. Speech alone suggested the chit didn’t come from the lower orders. He strongly suspected, too, that she had received a well-rounded education. So what on earth did she imagine she was doing indulging in such an escapade? If she wasn’t in disguise as a jest, then there was every likelihood she had run away from home, possibly fleeing some form of persecution, or even an arranged marriage that was not to her taste. If he had any sense at all, he told himself roundly, he would do what she asked, and just deposit her at the first respectable hostelry they came to in the capital! Yet, even as this most sensible course of action crossed his mind, he knew he would not act upon it.

He found himself studying her intently again. Yes, dressed appropriately she would undoubtedly make a damnably pretty girl. No, an extremely lovely one, he corrected silently. She was certainly older than fifteen. Eighteen, or maybe nineteen, he decided. And definitely no sweet simpleton, if he were any judge. She knew precisely what she was doing, too. There was some definite purpose in this outrageous charade of hers. He’d stake his life on it! One thing was certain, though, he found her and the situation intriguing and highly diverting, something he hadn’t experienced in many a long year. He was determined to discover who she was and, more importantly, just what she was!

‘I am pleased to discover you are not garrulous by nature, Master Green. None the less, I believe a little conversation would be permissible, even between virtual strangers.’

This succeeded in bringing to an end her intense study of the passing countryside. ‘I do beg your pardon, my lord—only, I’ve never visited the capital before, and am finding the landscape quite interesting.’

‘I, on the other hand, have travelled this route on numerous occasions and find it faintly tedious,’ he countered, ‘and should much prefer to discover a little more about you.’

There was no mistaking the guarded look that took possession of those enchanting features, but his lordship chose to disregard it. ‘Why, for instance, do I find you alone in what, by your own admission, is a foreign part of the land? And why are you not accompanied by a relative?’

‘Both my parents are dead, my lord.’

He found himself readily accepting the truth of this statement, possibly because her gaze had been so unwavering. Yes, already he was well on the way to knowing for sure when she was spinning him some yarn and when she was not.

‘And is there no one else responsible for your well-being, child …? No distant relative or guardian?’

‘No, my lord.’

Now, that was most interesting, for if she had continued speaking the truth, and he was inclined to believe she had, it must surely mean that she was somewhat older than he had first imagined, at least one-and-twenty. It possibly meant, also, that she was not running away from some arranged marriage that was not to her taste. Which instantly begged the question of what lay behind the outrageous escapade? With every passing mile his lordship’s curiosity was increasing by leaps and bounds!

By the time the carriage had drawn to a halt before a certain much-admired residence in Berkeley Square his lordship had decided on his immediate course of action. His intriguing companion, on the other hand, did not betray any outward sign of being at all impressed by her surroundings when she alighted in his lordship’s wake. In fact, when she discovered it was none other than the Viscount’s town house they stood before, she appeared decidedly ill-at-ease, not to say a trifle annoyed.

‘But I thought you said you would deposit me at some respectable hostelry, my lord?’

‘I cannot recall agreeing to any such thing, child,’ he countered, favouring her with one of his haughtiest stares. ‘I can, in due course, arrange for one of my servants to direct you to just such an establishment, if it is what you wish. First, I have a proposition to put to you. But not here in the street, where the world and his neighbour are at liberty to view proceedings.’

His lordship did not trouble to discover whether his youthful companion was prepared to follow him into the house. When the front door miraculously opened, even before he had made known his arrival by beating a tattoo using the highly polished brass knocker, he strolled languidly into the hall, handing his outdoor garments to the high-ranking retainer who had served him diligently from the moment his lordship had unexpectedly come into the title.

‘Bring claret and two glasses into the library, Brindle, and inform Cook I shall not be going out again this evening,’ and so saying he led the way into the book-lined room, fully aware that he was being closely followed by his newest acquaintance.

Choosing not to acknowledge her presence until he had closed the door so that they could enjoy privacy, he then turned to study her. Although she had removed her hat, she had chosen not to hand it over to the butler, and held it securely against the portmanteau in her right hand. Which instantly revealed two things—firstly, she was alert to the correct forms of behaviour; and, secondly, she remained decidedly ill at ease. When she blatantly refused the offer of a seat, he did not force the issue and merely made himself comfortable in a winged-chair, while all the time studying her closely as she, in turn, considered the painting taking pride of place above the hearth.

‘That is your family, is it not, my lord?’

‘Indeed it is, child. The tall gentleman had the felicity to be my sire. My mother, although no beauty, as you can perceive for yourself, was possessed of much wit and charm. I am the younger child, holding the dog.’

He watched fine coal-black brows draw together. ‘My condolences, sir. I trust your brother’s demise was not recent?’

Clearly the chit took no interest in the goings-on in the ton. ‘He died after taking a tumble from his horse some eight years ago.’

What she might have chosen to reply to this he was never to know, for the door opened, and her attention immediately turned to the rigidly correct individual who had served the Fincham family for very many years.

‘You may leave the tray, Brindle. We shall help ourselves. I shall ring when I require you again. In the meantime, I do not wish to be disturbed.’

The major-domo was far too experienced to betray even a modicum of surprise over his master’s most unusual companion, and merely bowed stiffly before leaving the room and closing the door almost silently behind him.

‘Come here, child,’ his lordship demanded, and then sighed when the order was blatantly ignored. ‘I assure you I have no intention of doing you a mischief. I merely wish to look at your hands.’

Gracefully arching brows rose in surprise. ‘My hands, sir! Whatever for?’

The Viscount cast an exasperated glance up at the youthful face. ‘Be warned that should I decide to offer you employment—against my better judgement, I might add—I shall expect my every request to be obeyed without question. Now, come here!’

This time he succeeded in achieving a favourable response. Lightly grasping the member held shyly out to him, he felt for his quizzing glass and through it studied slender tapering fingers and short clean nails. ‘As I suspected, you are not accustomed to hard labour.’

Releasing the finely boned wrist, he reached for the decanter conveniently positioned on the table beside his chair and proceeded to pour out two glasses. ‘As I cannot imagine you have quenched your thirst for several hours, you may sit yourself and join me in a glass of wine.’

Although her expression clearly revealed a hint of speculation, there was nothing to suggest that she might have considered it in the least odd to be asked to partake of refreshment in the company of an aristocrat, which succeeded only in intriguing him still further.

‘Were you truly in earnest when you declared you were in need of a servant, my lord?’ she asked, before sampling her wine in a very ladylike manner.

‘I should not otherwise have said so, child. But before we come to any firm arrangement, I shall need to know a little more about you. Firstly, from whom did you acquire an education?’

There was no mistaking the mischievous little smile before she said, ‘From the former rector of our parish, sir. My mother was his cook-housekeeper for a number of years, and—and he had a fondness for me.’

‘And your father?’

‘I never knew him, and he never knew of my existence. He was a soldier, sir, and died in the service of his country shortly after I was born.’

Studying her above the rim of his glass, his lordship considered what she had revealed thus far. She might well have told him the absolute truth. But it was also possible that if she was indeed the bastard daughter of some person of standing, her mother might well have spun the yarn about a deceased father in order to maintain the appearance of respectability. Undeniably the girl had a quiet dignity that was not feigned, and that certainly suggested she believed her parentage to be above reproach. Which made lending herself to such a start even more surprising!

Deciding to refrain from questioning her further for the present, he said, ‘I am satisfied you could perform the duties of a page. If you should choose to avail yourself of the position, I shall have a new set of clothes made for you on the morrow.’

She betrayed no sign whatsoever of being delighted by the offer. In fact, if anything, there was a hint of mistrust as she asked, ‘But why should you require a page, sir? Are you married?’

‘And what has that to say to anything, pray?’ He cast her a look of exasperation. ‘No, I am not, as it happens. Why do you ask?’

There was a suspicion of a twitch at the side of the perfectly shaped mouth again. ‘Well, because it’s usually ladies who engage pages, sir.’

‘Not always,’ he countered, and then smiled grimly. ‘And that is one of the reasons why I’m prepared to engage your services. I feel the most overwhelming desire to annoy a certain acquaintance of mine. He shall find it quite irksome when he sets eyes on you for the first time.’

‘Shall he, my lord?’

‘Most definitely, child! And now you may begin your duties by tugging the bell-pull, there, by the hearth.’

Taking her immediate compliance to his request to mean that she had accepted the post, he sat quietly, considering his latest responsibility until the summons was answered, and then turned his attention to his major-domo.

‘The child you see before you, Brindle, is my new page.’

Not even by so much as a slight raising of one greying brow did the butler betray surprise, even though there had never been a page employed in the household for as long as he had been in service with the family.

‘Is there a spare room in the servants’ quarters?’

‘Not one that isn’t presently occupied or used for storage, my lord. He could share with the boots for tonight, I suppose, or perhaps it would be best if he doubled up with James, the footman. His room is slightly larger.’

The Viscount frowned heavily. ‘No. For the time being he may use the small room my niece occupies when she stays here.’ Once again he looked directly up at his butler. ‘Now, pay attention, Brindle. Tomorrow, I wish you to take the boy out and buy him a new set of clothes, and whatever other little necessities he might need. In the meantime he is to be fed and you are to arrange for a hipbath to be taken up to his room, where you are to leave him until he rings for it to be taken away. Is that understood? He is also to have his supper up there on a tray. Do not rouse him in the morning. I dare say he is possessed of wits enough to find his own way down to the kitchen.’

‘Very good, my lord. Will there be anything else?’

‘Yes, you may allow Ronan to bear me company for the rest of the evening.’

His lordship acknowledged with a mere nod of his head the shyly spoken ‘goodnight’ from his latest employee. So deep in thought did he quickly become that he was hardly aware when the door opened softly a few minutes later; it was only when his favourite hunting dog came gambolling across the library towards him that he came out of his brown study long enough to return the affectionate greeting with a pat.

‘Am I being foolish beyond measure even to consider housing the chit, Ronan?’ Lord Fincham murmured, his mind having quickly returned to the enigma besetting him at the present time. ‘After all, she is nothing to me.’

The dog, now happily settled on the carpet at his master’s feet, merely cocked an ear, while his lordship smiled grimly. ‘It cannot be denied, though, the minx has certainly succeeded in pricking my conscience. No mean feat, old fellow, I can tell you! But am I being foolish to give her the benefit of the doubt?’ He considered for a moment, before acknowledging aloud, ‘I did the same over you, of course, some three years ago, when the gamekeeper assured me you’d never make a decent gun dog. You have more than repaid my belief in you. Will she do the same, I wonder?’

His lordship gazed down lazily at his favourite dog. ‘It will be interesting to see how you react to the boygirl who will be sleeping in my niece’s bed. After all, you are not overly fond of many people, are you, boy? But, firstly, I must satisfy myself that she is indeed the innocent she appears to be. No doubt some scheme to do precisely that shall occur to me before the morrow. Yes, I shall use the night hours to consider.

‘Then we shall see ‘