‘Oh?’ said the Earl, beginning to mount the steps. ‘Who?’
‘Miss Morville. Fell downstairs, or something. Sick as a cushion!’
‘Miss Morville?’ said Gervase quickly. ‘Is she much hurt?’
‘Broken her arm. Can’t think how she came to do it!’
‘Good God!’ exclaimed Gervase, swiftly mounting the remaining steps.
‘They carried her into the Great Hall,’ said Ulverston, catching up with him. ‘But what’s all this, Ger? Come on, now! No humdudgeon! What tr
icks has that brother of yours been playing on you? Out with it!’
‘None at all. I’ll explain it to you presently, Lucy, but not now! Only don’t look daggers at Martin! It wasn’t he who tried to murder me!’
‘I suppose he told you so! Upon my word, Ger – ! And what about that Leek of his?’
‘Lucy, how can you be such a greenhorn?’ demanded Gervase, casting his hat and his gloves on to the settle in the vestibule. ‘Did you never see a Bow Street Runner before?’
He then strode towards the Great Hall, checked for an instant on the threshold, blinking at the unexpected number of persons assembled there, and then perceived Miss Morville, lying on one of the sofas, interestingly pale, and with one arm in a sling. She had raised herself from her supporting cushions, and was looking towards the doorway, so painful an expression of anxiety in her white face that the Earl forgot his surroundings, and, wholly ignoring everyone else in the Hall, quickly crossed the floor, exclaiming: ‘My poor dear! Why, what has happened to you, my poor child?’
He dropped on his knee beside the sofa, taking the hand that was trying to grasp one of the capes of his coat, and holding it comfortingly. Miss Morville, equally oblivious of her entourage, gazed worshipfully into the blue eyes so tenderly smiling at her, and said foolishly: ‘You are safe! Nothing dreadful happened to you!’
‘Nothing more dreadful than being driven back to Stanyon by Martin!’ he assured her. ‘But you! How came you to tumble down the stairs as soon as my back was turned?’
‘The stupidest thing!’ said Miss Morville, despising herself. ‘I wanted to stop Martin – I thought it was the one thing that would put you in danger! Only I tripped over my train, and fell! I cannot think how I came to do such a thing!’
The Earl slipped his arm behind her, and raised the hand he was still holding to his lips. ‘You guessed it all, didn’t you, you most wise and most foolish Miss Morville?’
Miss Morville, finding his shoulder so invitingly close, was glad to rest her head against it. ‘Oh no! How could I think such a terrible thing? Was it true? I would not tell you the thoughts in my head, because they were so very dreadful! Besides,’ she added, ‘it was not my business, and I was so very nearly sure that you knew!’
Her overstrained nerves then found relief in a burst of tears. But as the Earl chose to kiss her at this moment, she was obliged to stop crying, the merest civility compelling her to return his embrace. As soon as she was able to speak, she said, however, in a voice meant only for his ears: ‘Oh, no! Pray do not! It was all my folly, behaving in this missish way! You felt yourself obliged to comfort me! I assure you, I don’t regard it – shall never think of it again!’
‘My poor dear, you must be very much shaken to say anything so foolish!’ said the Earl lovingly. ‘Never did I think to hear such nonsense on my sage counsellor’s lips!’
‘You would become disgusted with my odious common-sense. Try as I will, I cannot be romantic!’ said Miss Morville despairingly.
His eyes danced. ‘Oh, I forbid you to try! Your practical observations, my absurd robin, are the delight of my life!’
Miss Morville looked at him. Then, with a deep sigh, she laid her hand in his. But what she said was: ‘You must mean a sparrow!’
‘I will not allow you to dictate to me, now or ever, Miss Morville! I mean a robin!’ said the Earl firmly, lifting her hand to his lips.
This interlude, which was watched with interest by the three servants, with complacence by Mrs Morville, critically by the Viscount, who was trying to unravel the puzzle just set before him, and with hostility by the Dowager and Mr Morville, seemed to break the spell which had hitherto held the rest of the company silent.
‘St Erth!’ said the Dowager awfully.
‘Take care you do not hurt her arm!’ advised Mrs Morville practically.
‘Here!’ said the Viscount, addressing himself to the domestic staff. ‘Nothing more for you to do here! You be off, all of you!’
Mrs Marple and her ladyship’s maid, over-awed by his imperative manner, both dropped curtsies, and withdrew. Turvey, rigid with indignation, ignored him, and asked his master if there were any further service he could perform.
‘None, I thank you. Go away!’ said Gervase.
Turvey then bowed, and walked with great stateliness out of the Hall; and Mr Morville, who had been controlling his feelings with a strong effort, said: ‘No doubt I am sadly behind the times, but it may be of interest to you to know, St Erth, that in my day, it was customary, before making an offer to a young woman, to obtain the consent of her father!’
‘Yes, sir, I shall endeavour to do so,’ said the Earl, carefully disposing Miss Morville against the cushions. ‘Shall I find you at Gilbourne House, if I ride over to call upon you tomorrow?’