He rose. ‘I must go. It is growing late.’ He paused, looking earnestly down at her. ‘You have Peregrine to turn to, I know. Let me say just this, that you have also a cousin who would do all in his power to serve you.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, almost inaudibly. She got up. ‘It – it is late. It was good of you to call, to bring me the book.’
He took her hand, held out to him in farewell, and kissed it. ‘Dear Judith!’ he said.
Mrs Scattergood, coming back into the room at that moment, looked very sharply at him, and made not the smallest attempt to persuade him into staying any longer. He took his leave of both ladies, and bowed himself out.
‘You are getting to be excessively intimate with that young gentleman, my love,’ observed Mrs Scattergood.
‘He is my cousin, ma’am,’ replied Judith tranquilly.
‘H’m, yes! I daresay he might be. I have very little notion of cousins, I can tell you. Not that I have anything against Mr Taverner, my dear. He seems an agreeable creature. But that is how it is always! The less eligible a man is the more delightful he is bound to be! You may depend upon it.’
Judith began to put away her embroidery. ‘My dear ma’am, what can that signify? There is no thought of marriage between us.’
‘No Bath-miss airs with me, child, I implore you!’ said Mrs Scattergood, throwing up her hands. ‘That is very pretty talking, to be sure, but you have something more of quickness than most
girls, and you know very well, my love, that there is always a thought of marriage between a single female and a personable gentleman, if not in his mind, quite certainly in hers. Now this cousin may do very well for a young lady of no particular consequence, but you are an heiress and should be looking a great deal higher for a husband. I don’t say you must not show him the observance that is due to a relative, but you know, my dear, you do not owe him any extraordinary civility, and to let him kiss your hand and be calling you dear Judith, is the outside of enough!’
Judith turned. ‘Let me understand you, ma’am. How much higher must I look for a husband?’
‘Oh, my dear, when a female is as wealthy as you, as high as you choose! I did think of Clarence, but there’s that horrid Marriage Act to be got over, and I daresay the Regent would never give his consent.’
‘There is Mrs Jordan to be got over too,’ said Judith dryly.
‘Nonsense, my love, I have it for a fact he has quite broken with her. I daresay she will keep all the children of the connection – I believe there are ten, but I might be mistaken.’
‘You informed me yourself, ma’am, that the Duke was a devoted father,’ said Judith.
Mrs Scattergood sighed. ‘Well, and have I not said that I believe he won’t do? Though I must say, my dear, if you had the chance of becoming his wife it would be a very odd thing in you to be objecting to it merely because of a few Fitz-Clarences. But I have been thinking of it, and I am persuaded it won’t answer. We must look elsewhere.’
‘Where shall we look, ma’am?’ inquired Judith, with a hint of steel in her voice. ‘A mere commoner is too low for me, and a Royal Duke too high. I understand his Grace of Devonshire is unmarried. Shall I set my cap at him, ma’am, or should I look about me for a husband amongst – for instance – the Earls?’
Mrs Scattergood glanced up sharply. ‘What do you mean, my love?’
‘Would not Lord Worth make me a suitable husband?’ said Miss Taverner evenly.
‘Oh, my dearest child, the best!’ cried Mrs Scattergood. ‘It has been in my mind ever since I clapped eyes on you!’
‘I thought so,’ said Judith. ‘Perhaps that was why his lordship was so determined you should live with me?’
‘Worth has not said a word to me, not one, I promise you!’ replied Mrs Scattergood, an expression of ludicrous dismay in her face.
Miss Taverner raised her brows in polite incredulity.‘No, ma’am?’
‘Indeed he has not! Lord, I wish I had not spoken! I had not the least notion of uttering a word, but then you spoke of earls, and it popped out before I could recollect. Now I have put you in a rage!’
Judith laughed. ‘No, you have not, dear ma’am. I am sure you would not try to force me into a marriage, the very thought of which is repugnant to me.’
‘No,’ agreed Mrs Scattergood. ‘I would not, of course, but I must confess, my love, I am sorry to hear you talk of Worth like that.’
‘Do not let us talk of him at all,’ said Judith lightly. ‘I for one am going to bed.’
She went to bed, and presently to sleep, but was awakened some time after midnight by a tapping on her door. She sat up, and called out: ‘Who is there?’
‘Are you awake? Can I come in?’ demanded Peregrine’s voice.
She gave permission, wondering what disaster had befallen him. He came in carrying a branch of candles, which he set down on the table beside her bed to the imminent danger of the rose-silk curtains. He was dressed for an evening party, in satin knee-breeches, and a velvet coat, and he seemed to be suffering from suppressed excitement. Judith looked anxiously up at him. ‘Is anything wrong, Perry?’ she asked.