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‘Well, I do feel it might be better if you gave up the notion,’ he said. ‘I fear I can hardly draw back now from Sir Walter’s invitation, but if I give you my word not to press an unwanted suit upon you perhaps you may not find my visit insupportably distasteful.’
‘No, no!’ she assured him. ‘But I very much fear that Papa may – may cause you a great deal of embarrassment, sir!’
‘Quite impossible!’ he said, smiling. ‘Have no fear on that head!’
‘You are the most truly amiable man I ever met!’ she exclaimed warmly. ‘Indeed, I am very much obliged to you, and quite ashamed to think I should have misjudged you so! You – you won’t tell Papa?’
‘Miss Abingdon, that is the unkindest thing you have yet said to me!’
‘No. I know you would not!’ she said quickly. She rose and held out her hand. ‘I must go back to the house. But you?’
‘In about twenty minutes’ time,’ said Lord Stavely, ‘I shall drive up to the front door, with profuse apologies and excuses!’
‘Oh, shall you indeed do that?’ giggled Miss Abingdon. ‘It must be close on midnight! Papa will be so cross!’
‘Well, I must brave his wrath,’ he said, raising her hand to his lips.
Her hand clung to his; Miss Abingdon jerked up her head and stood listening. In another instant Lord Stavely had also heard what had startled her: footsteps which tried to be stealthy, and a voice whose owner seemed to imagine himself to be speaking under his breath: ‘Do you go that way, Mullins, and I’ll go this, and mind, no noise!’
‘Papa!’ breathed Miss Abingdon, in a panic. ‘He must have heard me: I tripped on the gravel! Depend upon it, he thinks we are thieves: Sir Jasper was robbed last month! What am I to do?’
‘Can you reach the house without being observed if I draw them off?’ asked his lordship softly.
‘Yes, yes, but you? Papa will very likely have his fowling-piece!’
‘Be sure I shall declare myself before he fires at me!’ He picked up the bandboxes and gave them to her.
She clutched them and fled. Lord Stavely, having watched her disappear round a corner of the shrubbery, set his hat on his head and sauntered in the opposite direction, taking care to advertise his presence.
He emerged from the shrubbery into the rose garden, and was almost immediately challenged by an elderly gentleman who did indeed level a fowling-piece at him.
‘Stand! I have you covered, rogue!’ shouted Sir Walter. ‘Mullins, you fool, here!’
Lord Stavely stood still, waiting for his host to approach him. This Sir Walter did not do until he had been reinforced by his butler, similarly armed, and sketchily attired in a nightshirt, a pair of breeches, and a greatcoat thrown over all. He then came forward, keeping his lordship covered, and said with gleeful satisfaction: ‘Caught you, my lad!’
‘How do you do, sir?’ said Lord Stavely, holding out his hand. ‘I must beg your pardon for presenting myself at this unconscionable hour, but I have been dogged by ill fortune all day. A broken lynch-pin and a lame horse must stand as my excuses.’
Sir Walter nearly dropped his piece. ‘Stavely?’ he ejaculated, peering at his lordship in amazement.
Lord Stavely bowed.
‘But what the devil are you doing in my garden?’ Sir Walter demanded.
Lord Stavely waved an airy hand. ‘Communing with Nature, sir, communing with Nature!’
‘Communing with Nature?’ echoed Sir Walter, his eyes fairly starting from his head.
‘Roses bathed in moonlight!’ said his lordship lyrically. ‘Ah – must Mullins continue to point his piece at me?’
‘Put it down, you fool!’ commanded Sir Walter testily. ‘Stavely, my dear fellow, are you feeling quite the thing?’
‘Never better!’ replied his lordship. ‘Oh, you are thinking that I sho
uld have driven straight up to the house? Very true, sir, but I was lured out of my chaise by this exquisite scene. I am passionately fond of moonlight, and really, you know, your gardens present so charming a picture that I could not but yield to temptation, and explore them. I am sorry to have disturbed you!’
Sir Walter was staring at him with his jaw dropping almost as prodigiously as the butler’s. ‘Explore my gardens at midnight!’ he uttered, in stupefied accents.
‘Is it so late?’ said his lordship. ‘Yet I dare say one might see to read a book in this clear light!’
