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“Oh, if that is all, I can furnish you with proofs enough very easily.”
“Well, where are they?”
“I can readily bring them—after we have settled everything.”
Was there a hint of challenge in her eye? Delagarde made an effort to shake off his creeping lethargy and take control of this absurd situation. Was he to be intimidated by an impertinent chit? He did not think so. He adopted his loftiest tone.
“My good girl, there is nothing to settle. If this is some sort of trickery, you have mistaken your man. Whether you are, or are not, Lady Mary Hope, I have not the remotest intention—”
“Pray do not let us waste any more time on that matter,” she interrupted, not in the least crushed. “You had as well accept my identity without further ado. However, I dare say it will be wisest for you to address me as Maidie—for everyone who knows me well uses my pet name—which will help to make people believe we are very well acquainted.”
“I have no desire to make anyone believe it,” said Delagarde, refusing to avail himself of this permission. “And I am far from accepting your identity.”
“I can’t think why. You must see very well I am indeed Lady Mary.”
Delagarde lost what little patience he had. “I see nothing of the kind. All I see is a strange young female, who comes to my house—at, I may add, the most unseasonable hour—”
“It is past ten o’clock!”
“—unseasonable hour, I say, for visiting. And while we are on the subject, it may interest you to know that any female with the smallest pretension to gentility would not dream of visiting a gentleman—”
“She would if she had my circumstances.”
“—in his own house, which, if you were indeed Lady Mary Hope, you would be quite aware is the height of impropriety.”
“I am aware of it,” she said, “although I have never been able to understand why.”
“It is obvious why. Quite apart from the damage to your reputation, you are alone and unprotected.”
“Do you mean to assault me?”
“Of course I don’t mean to assault you!”
“Then why are we discussing it?”
“Oh, good God!”
Unable to decide which of several infuriated utterances to make first, Delagarde paced about for a moment or two until he remembered what he had begun to say. He turned on the girl. “All this is quite beside the point. What I have been trying to impress upon you is that it is utterly unheard of for a complete stranger to walk unannounced into a gentleman’s residence and throw a ridiculous demand at his head.”
She raised her brows. “What is ridiculous about it?”
Delagarde threw up his hands. “If you can’t see that, then you are the one who is mad—which I am beginning to suspect is indeed the case. Arrange for your debut, indeed! Even if I had any idea of doing so—which I emphatically do not—it would be quite impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because I am not equipped to do so. Of what were you thinking? I should launch you from this house?”
“Why not?”
“Why not!” Delagarde felt an almost irresistible urge to clutch at his hair. “You don’t mean to say you really were thinking of such a thing? Good God, girl, I am a bachelor! You need a respectable female to sponsor you—a chaperon.”
She sank back in her chair. “Is that all that is troubling you? You need have—”
“No, it is not all!”
“—no further concern,” she said, ignoring his interruption. “I have thought of all that. I have brought my own duenna. She is your cousin, so there can be no impropriety in us both staying in your house.”
“Staying in my—!” For a moment or two, Delagarde regarded her speechlessly. Then he sank into the chair on the other side of the fireplace and dropped his head in his hands.
