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It was not, however, a post-chaise, and no such dreaded sight as Sir John Paradise’s face met her alarmed gaze. Instead, she saw a curricle and four driven by a gentleman in a very modish dress of dark blue with gold buttons. He wore a gold-laced tricorne on his own unpowdered hair, and a fringed cravat thrust through a gold buttonhole. A surtout with four laps on each side hung negligently open over his dress, and on his feet he had a pair of very highly polished top-boots. He was looking straight ahead, and so did not see Miss Paradise peeping at him over the short blind. She had a glimpse of a straight, rather haughty profile as the curricle passed the window; then the horses were checked, and the equipage swung round under the archway into the courtyard.
‘Bab!’ gasped Mr Morley, who had entered the room behind her. ‘We are overtaken!’
Miss Paradise gave a shriek and dropped her muff.
‘Mercy on me! Not Papa?’
‘No, I don’t know who it can be, but a man has this instant driven into the yard –’
‘Yes, yes, I saw him. But what in the world can he have to do with us?’
‘I tell you I don’t know, but he asked the landlord if he had seen anything of a young lady and gentleman. I did not wait for more, as you may imagine. What are we to do? Who in thunder can he be?’
A premonition had seized Miss Paradise. She took a step back, clasping her hands together in great agitation.
‘Good heavens, Rupert! Could it be – Sir Roland?’
Mr Morley stared at her. ‘Sale? It can’t be! How should he know of our elopement?’
‘Papa must have brought him back with him last night. Oh, this is dreadful! I declare I am ready to sink!’
Mr Morley squared his shoulders.
‘Well, if he is Sale, he shan’t take you back, Bab. He has to reckon with me now.’
‘But he is not in the least like Sir Joseph!’ said Miss Paradise numbly. ‘He is quite handsome!’
‘What in the world has that got to do with it?’ demanded Mr Morley.
Miss Paradise turned scarlet.
‘Nothing at all!’ she replied. ‘Whoever he is like he is odious. Willing to fulfil – But I never dreamed that he would follow us!’
At this moment the door was opened again, and a pleasant, slightly drawling voice said: ‘So, have I caught you, my children? I thought I might,’ and the gentleman in the modish surtout walked into the room.
He paused on the threshold and raised his quizzing-glass. Miss Paradise, who had retreated to Mr Morley’s side, blushed, and gave him back stare for stare.
‘But I must humbly beg my apologies,’ said the newcomer, a faintly quizzical smile in his grey eyes. ‘I seem to have intruded. Madam –’
‘Yes,’ said Miss Paradise. ‘You have intruded, Sir Roland!’
The quizzical smile lingered; one eyebrow went up.
‘Now, I wonder how you knew me?’ murmured the gentleman.
‘I am well aware that you must be Sir Roland Sale,’ said Miss Paradise, ‘but I do not know you, and I do not desire to know you!’
Sir Roland laughed suddenly and shut the door.
‘But are you not being a trifle hasty?’ he enquired. ‘Why don’t you desire to know me?’
‘I imagine you must know very well!’ said Miss Paradise.
‘Indeed I don’t!’ said Sir Roland. He came further into the room, and laid his hat and his elegant fringed gloves down on the table. He looked thoughtfully from one flushed countenance to the other, and said in a tone of amusement: ‘Is it possible that you are running away from me?’
‘Certainly not!’ said Miss Paradise. ‘But I think it only proper to tell you, sir, that this is the gentleman I am going to marry.’
Mr Morley tried to think of something dignified to add to this pronouncement, but under that ironic, not unkindly gaze, only succeeded in clearing his throat and turning redder than ever.
