‘I suspect you mean I need one to add to my consequence!’
‘That too,’ he replied.
She looked thoughtful, and presently smiled, rather ruefully. ‘To present a respectable appearance, as Buddle says! He wished me to bring Peter to London, but I left him at Graynard, because, for one thing, Mr Porth was anxious to hire him; and, for another, it seemed such an unnecessary expense. However, I own I have felt the want of a footman, on Buddle’s account: he’s too old for these horrid London houses.’
‘Is the expense a bar?’ he asked bluntly.
‘Oh, no! I’ll hire a footman, and he can take the place of the maid who at present helps Buddle.’
‘No, leave it to me!’ he said. ‘Hiring footmen – London footmen – is no work for green girls.’
‘Thank you: you are very obliging! But there is no reason why you should be put to that trouble.’
‘I shan’t be. Trevor will find a suitable man, and send him to see Buddle.’
‘Then I shall be very much obliged to him.’ She held out her hand again. ‘Now, I’ll say goodbye, cousin.’
‘Not yet! Unless you have some urgent business to attend to, I suggest you allow me to drive you to visit my sister. She wishes to make your acquaintance, and this seems a good opportunity to take you to see her.’
Startled, she said: ‘Oh, but Charis – ! Surely she should go too? Won’t Lady Buxted think it very uncivil – when she has consented to introduce her at your ball?’
‘No, how should she, when the circumstances are explained to her? She would think it far more uncivil of you to delay making this visit of ceremony.’
‘Yes, but Charis will be well again in a day or two!’
‘I sincerely hope so. Unfortunately, I am off to Newmarket tomorrow, and shall be away for a sennight. To postpone the visit until we shall be within a fortnight of the ball would be beyond the line of being pleasing, believe me!’
She looked dismayed. ‘Indeed it would! Oh, dear, she would suppose us to be quite without conduct, wouldn’t she? But I’m not dressed for it!’
He put up his glass, and surveyed her through it. She was wearing a hair-brown pelisse, with orange-jean half-boots, and a neat little hat trimmed with a single ostrich plume curling over its brim. He lowered his glass. ‘I see nothing amiss,’ he said.
‘You may not, but you may depend upon it that Lady Buxted will write me down as a positive dowdy! I’ve worn this pelisse any time these past two years!’
‘It will be quite unnecessary to tell her so.’
‘Yes, indeed it will!’ she said warmly. ‘She will know it at a glance!’
‘How should she, when I did not?’
‘Because she’s a
female, of course! Of all the stupid questions to ask – !’
His eyes were alight with wicked laughter. ‘You under-rate me, Frederica! I am far more conversant with feminine fashions than my sister, I promise you! Must I prove it to you? Very well, then! Your pelisse is not fashioned according to the latest mode; your boots are made of jean, not of kid; and you furbished up your hat with a feather dyed orange to match them. Am I right?’
She scanned him, gravely, but with interest. ‘Yes – and so, I suppose, was Aunt Scrabster.’
‘Oho! Did she warn you to beware of such a sad rake as I am? You’ve nothing to fear from me, Frederica!’
That made her give one of her chuckles. ‘Oh, I know that! I’m not nearly pretty enough!’ Her clear gaze remained fixed on his face, but a crease appeared between her brows. ‘Charis is,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘But – but although you call me green, cousin, I’m more than seven, you know. You wouldn’t!’
‘How can you know that?’ he asked, quizzing her.
‘Well, to be sure, I’m not very familiar with rakes – in fact, I never met one before! – but I’m not such a wet-goose that I don’t know you are a gentleman – however uncivil you may be, or whatever improper things you may say! I daresay that sort of carelessness comes of having been born into the first rank.’
He was so much taken aback that for a moment he said nothing. Then a wry smile twisted his mouth, and he said: ‘I deserved that, didn’t I? Accept my apologies, cousin! May I now escort you to my sister’s house?’
‘Well …’ she said doubtfully. ‘If you think she won’t – Oh, no! You are forgetting Luff! Pretty cool, to walk into Lady Buxted’s drawing-room, leading a – a country dog! I won’t do it!’