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Delagarde saw nothing of the sort. The name of Burloyne had no meaning for him, although he had to admit to unfamiliarity with all the ramifications of his mother’s family. But he was not going to waste time finding them out.
“The relationship, if there is any which I take leave to doubt, must be remote in the extreme.” He was still studying the letter. “What is this offer my mother mentions to send someone to live with you?”
“But I told you my duenna is your cousin. Have you not been listening?”
Delagarde found himself contemplating the desirability of boxing her ears. He restrained himself with difficulty, and once more bade himself be calm.
“Lady Mary, while it may prove to be out of my power—regrettably—to repudiate some sort of relationship with you, allow me to draw to your attention that this letter is over ten years old. Moreover, my mother has been in her grave these many years.”
“I know,” she agreed with unabated patience, “and therefore the obligation devolves upon you.” She retrieved the letter and pointed to one sentence. “You see here that your mother even states you may be counted upon to aid the project.”
“Good God, girl, I was barely eighteen at the time!” He thrust away, throwing up a protective hand as if she might threaten him. “Take the thing away before I rip it to shreds. It has no bearing on the case. I knew nothing of the matter then, and I wish to know less of it now. In any event, my circumstances hardly make me a suitable person to lend you countenance. Moreover, if you think it escaped me that you mentioned Shurland when you gave me this cock-and-bull tale of being your nearest male relative, you are mistaken. So answer me this, if you please: why cannot he bring you out?”
“Because he is dead,” said Maidie, her tone dogged.
“He can’t be dead.” Delagarde paced in some agitation as he spoke. “He only took over the title a year or so ago.”
“I meant my great-uncle, the fifth Earl. He was my guardian.”
“Then why didn’t he arrange for your debut?”
“Because he was eccentric.”
“Evidently it runs in the family.”
The girl merely gazed at him with her disconcerting wide-eyed stare. She folded the letter and replaced it in her reticule. She then reseated herself and looked up at him again. As calmly as if she owned the place. Delagarde eyed her in frustrated silence for a moment or two. He had half a mind to ring for Lowick and have him forcibly remove the wretched female, but he supposed such a course was ineligible. He was, after all, a gentleman. But he was not going to accede to her nonsensical demand.
He resumed his post by the mantelpiece. “What about this female who befriended you, the Egginton woman?”
“She died, too.”
“She would! Well, the other one, then.”
“Which other one?”
“Your duenna. Don’t dare try to kill her off as well, because you have already threatened to bring her to live here.”
For the first time, a smile broke across the girl’s face, and she laughed. “What, poor Worm bring me out? Why, she has no connections, apart from you. She is one of your poor relations. I dare say your mother had it in mind to settle her, poor thing, when she suggested the Worm came to me.”
Delagarde was so surprised by the change a smile wrought in her countenance he forgot to ask for an explanation of this odd name. It was a countenance alight, the dowdiness given off by her unfashionable apparel fading into the background. He did not realise he was staring until the smile vanished and Maidie’s brows rose again.
“Are you thinking there might be some other female relative I could turn to? I assure you there is not. I am wholly dependent upon you.”
This snapped his attention back to the matter at hand, and he frowned. “No, you are not. You have no real claim upon me at all. If all you say is true, then the charge of you falls not upon me, but upon Shurland. Don’t you tell me he cannot bring you out, because I know very well he is married.”
Maidie put up her chin. “Well, I do tell you so. The plain truth is Adela cannot abide me, and I cannot abide her.”
“Is Adela his wife?”
“Yes, she is, and we quarrelled.”
“I wonder why I am not surprised.”
“Besides,” pursued Maidie, unheeding, “Adela treated me abominably until I came of age. Only then, as if nothing had happened, she began fawning all over me, and determining to bring me out.”
“Then why in the name of all the gods at once,” demanded Delagarde, exasperated, “have you come to me?”
Her tone became steely. “Because I am determined never to marry Eustace Silsoe.”
