‘You know very well it’s not beneath my dignity. But I’m dining at Ninove.’
‘That stupid cavalry party of Uxbridge’s! Oh, nonsense! it can’t signify. No one will give a fig for your absence: you won’t even be missed, I daresay.’
He laughed, but shook his head. ‘My darling, I daren’t!’
She hunched a shoulder. ‘I am tired of your duty, Cha
rles. It is so tedious!’
‘It is indeed.’
‘I see nothing of you. George and Harry can get leave when they want it; why should not you?’
‘George and Harry are not on the staff,’ he replied. ‘I’d get leave if I could, but it’s impossible.’
‘Well!’ She closed her parasol with a snap, and laid it on the seat beside her. ‘If it is impossible for you I must find someone else to go with me. Ah, the very man! Sir Peregrine, come here!’
A little startled, the Colonel turned to see Peregrine hurriedly obeying the summons. A bewitching smile was bestowed upon him. ‘Sir Peregrine, I want to dine in the suburbs, and Charles won’t take me! Will you go with me?’
‘Oh, by Jove, Lady Bab, I should think I will—anywhere!’ replied Peregrine.
‘Good. No dressing up, mind! I intend to go just as I am. You may call for me in the Rue Ducale: is it agreed?’
‘Lord, yes, a thousand times! It will be capital fun!’ A doubt struck him; he looked at the Colonel, and added: ‘That is—you don’t mind, Audley, do you?’
‘My dear Perry, why should I mind? Go by all means: I wish I might join you.’
‘Oh, devilish good of you! At about six, then, Lady Bab: I’ll be there!’
He raised his hat to her and walked away; the Colonel said: ‘What’s your game, Bab?’
‘I don’t understand you. I had thought the fact of Sir Peregrine’s being a connection of yours must have made him unexceptionable. Besides, I like him: have you any objection?’
‘I’m not jealous of him, if that is what you mean, but I’ve a strong notion that it would be better for him not to be liked by you.’
‘Ah, perhaps you are right!’ she said. Her voice was saintly, but two demons danced in her eyes. ‘Lavisse comes to Brussels this evening: I will engage him instead.’
‘You’re a devil in attack, Bab,’ he said appreciatively. ‘That’s a pistol held to my head, and, being a prudent man, I capitulate.’
‘Oh, Charles! Craven! And you a soldier!’
‘True: but a good soldier knows when to retreat!’
‘Shall you come about again?’
‘Yes, but I shall be more careful of my ground. Today I rashly left my flank exposed.’
She smiled. ‘And I rolled it up! Well, I will be good! Sir Peregrine shall take me, because it would be stupid to cry off now, but I will be very sisterly, I promise you.’
He held up his hand to her. ‘Defeat without dishonour! Thank you!’
She leaned down from her high perch, putting her hand in his. His face was upturned; she said, with her gurgle of laughter: ‘Don’t smile at me, Charles! If you do I must kiss you just there!’ She drew her hand away, and laid a finger between his brows.
‘Do!’
‘No, this place is confoundedly public: I should put you to shame. By the by, Charles, that chit whose name I never can remember—the heiress whom your sister-in-law meant you to marry—you know whom I mean?’
‘I do, but it’s nonsense that Judith intended her for me.’