The Earl turned a singularly penetrating gaze upon her. ‘Pray go on, Miss Taverner. Who was this well-disposed person?’
‘My cousin, Mr Bernard Taverner,’ she replied.
He lifted his quizzingglass. ‘Your cousin. Are you sure that it was he who intervened?’
‘Why, yes,’ she said, rather surprised. ‘He was to some extent in Perry’s confidence. Perry taxed him with it afterwards, and he could not deny it. It is only one more instance of his con sideration, his regard for us.’
The Earl kept his glass up. ‘This gentleman is a good deal in your confidence, I gather.’
‘I know of no reason why he should not be,’ said Judith, a little stiffly. ‘I believe him to be very worthy of our confidence. He is not only our cousin, but most truly our friend.’
He lowered his glass. ‘He is fortunate to have so easily secured your good opinion,’ he said. ‘Does he advise an early marriage for Peregrine, I wonder?’
‘He has not told me so,’ said Judith.
‘No doubt he will,’ said his lordship. ‘You may tell him, when he does, that I have not the least intention of permitting Peregrine to marry yet awhile.’
He got up, but she detained him. ‘I don’t know why you should take this tone, Lord Worth, nor why, having promised your consent to Perry’s marriage next year, you should suddenly change your mind.’
‘Oh,’ said the Earl with a sardonic smile, ‘you may take it that I have too nice a sense of my duty to allow my ward to entangle himself in matrimony so young.’
‘That is not the true answer,’ she said. ‘For some reason it does not suit you to see Perry married. I should wish to know what that reason is.’
‘At the moment,’ said the Earl, ‘I fear I cannot call it to mind.’
He left her considerably put out. She had been in a fair way to acknowledge herself to have been mistaken in him, and now, just as she had warmed towards him, he made her angry again.
She looked after him resentfully, until her consciousness was recalled by Mr Pierrepoint, who came up to ask her if she would join a lottery-table in the next room.
She went at once, and did not set eyes on the Earl again until she went with the rest of the ladies to bed. He was in the hall with several of the other men of the party then, and he gave her her candle. As she took it from him, with downcast eyes and a very sober countenance, he clasped her wrist in a light hold, and said quietly: ‘Do you dislike me as much as ever? It is a pity. Try not to let your prejudice lead you into mistrusting me. You have no need.’ He paused. ‘Look at me!’
She raised her eyes. He smiled faintly. ‘Obedient girl! If you had as much confidence in my integrity as you have in your cousin’s it would be no bad thing.’
‘I do not mistrust you,’ she answered in a low voice. ‘We shall be remarked. Please let me go, Lord Worth!’
He released her. ‘One of a guardian’s privileges is to be seen talking to his ward without occasioning remark,’ he said. ‘I can assure you he has not many.’
She set her hand on the stair-rail, preparing to follow Lady Jersey. She looked a little arch. ‘Is your position as my guardian so painful, sir?’
‘It is a damnable position,’ he said deliberately, and turned away, leaving her staring.
Thirteen
NOT ALTOGETHER TO MISS TAVERNER’S SURPRISE, PEREGRINE’S stay in Hertfordshire was prolonged beyond the original week to a fortnight, and again to three weeks. She was warned four times through the medium of the post to expect him, only to receive a hasty scrawl next day postponing his return a little longer; and remarked humorously to her cousin that the sight of the postman’s scarlet coat and cockaded hat in Brook Street was beginning to mean nothing but another put-off. ‘But it cannot go on for ever,’ she said with a twinkle. ‘Sir Geoffrey must grow tired at last of franking Perry’s letters to me, and then we may expect to see him in town again.’
Meanwhile, Miss Taverner’s days continued to be so fully occupied that she had little leisure for missing her brother. She received two more offers of marriage, both of which she civilly declined; sat to have her portrait taken by Hoppner at the earnest solicitation of her cousin, and twice went to the play in the company of her guardian. He said nothing to annoy her on either of these occasions, but on the contrary talked so much like a sensible man, and saw to her comfort in such a practised manner, that she was quite in charity with him, and could thank him for two pleasant evenings with perfect sincerity.
‘You have nothing to thank me for,’ he returned. ‘Do you think I have not had a great deal of pleasure in your company?’
She smiled. ‘I have not been used to hear you say things so prettily, Lord Worth.’
‘No, nor have I been used to find my ward so amiable,’ he replied.
She held up her finger. ‘Do not let us be recalling past differences, if you please! I am determined not to quarrel with you; it is useless to provoke me.’
He looked amused. ‘Ever, Miss Taverner?’
‘Oh, as to that, there is no saying, to be sure! To-night I am your guest, and must accord you a little extraordinary civility, to-morrow I may abuse you with a clear conscience.’