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“You know better than that, old fellow,” had said Corringham.
“If I supposed you seriously believed it, dear boy, I should feel compelled to call you out!” This from Lord Riseley.
Delagarde had at once apologised, and his friends had sympathised with his situation, supposing, as he had himself, that someone had overheard their conversation. That someone he had not, until this morning, thought to be Lady Shurland.
“She denies having helped the rumours,” said his great-aunt. “But the murder is out, and there is nothing to be done about it now.”
He moved to the mantelpiece and leaned his arm along it. “Is Maidie distressed? She looked to be coping well enough last night.”
He saw the familiar twinkle enter her eye. “She is more disillusioned than distressed. Great-uncle Reginald, you must know, has proved to be right once again.”
Delagarde laughed. “The devil he has! What must we do, I wonder, to convince her every fashionable fribble is not necessarily a hypocrite?” To his surprise, his great-aunt became serious. He frowned. “What is it, Aunt Hes?”
She threw out a hand. “Oh, don’t look like that. I am persuaded it will not amount to anything—at least, I hope not. But that woman means mischief, I am sure of it.”
“Lady Shurland? Come, Aunt Hes, what is the matter?”
Lady Hester sighed deeply. “She will brand you a hypocrite, if she can, Laurie. She as good as told us she will set about the rumour you kept Maidie’s fortune secret because you want her for yourself.”
Delagarde was so surprised he let out a peal of laughter. Of all the nonsensical notions! What, was he supposed to rate his attractions so low he would stoop to so petty a trick? He might not have any better personal attributes than the next fellow. But with his title and position, he had been sought after for so many years, he would have to be a perfect fool to so belittle his own chances. If, that was, he’d had any idea of attempting to attach Maidie.
Why then should Aunt Hes be regarding him in so dissatisfied a fashion? “You don’t believe that yourself, Aunt Hes, surely?”
“Of course I don’t believe it. It is only that I have realised Maidie was quite right.”
“What do you mean?”
“She said you would laugh at the idea.”
Delagarde raised an eyebrow. “Did she, indeed?”
“She also told Lady Shurland you never wanted her here, and could not wait to be rid of her.”
Delagarde frowned. He may have expressed some such wish on occasion, but she must know he did not mean it. On the contrary, he was growing quite used to having Maidie about the place. And the other night…no, better not to think about that, perhaps. He could only ascribe his questionable behaviour to the unfortunate effect of liquor on his inhibitions. Though he had meant well. Starlight, he decided, was deceptive. She had seemed different, not at all the Maidie who infuriated him so readily. She had inspired quite different sensations within him—and he certainly did not wish to think about those. He hurried into speech.
“That is nonsense. Why should she tell Lady Shurland any such thing?”
“To dissuade her from setting about that absurd rumour, I imagine. I am inclined to agree with Maidie. No one who has seen you together could suppose you to be contemplating matrimony.”
“Good God, I should hope not! Marry Maidie? I do not think so.”
He was brought up short by Lady Hester’s next remark, delivered as calmly as if she were talking about the weather.
“You could do worse, Laurie.”
Delagarde stared at her blankly. She returned the look steadily.
He drew a breath. “Aunt Hes, you cannot be serious! I know you had some such idea at the outset, but that was before you properly knew Maidie.”
“Yes, I know her now. Moreover, I do seriously believe you ought to consider marriage, Laurie.”
Delagarde gazed at her, a mixture of emotions churning within him. Disbelief warred with some other thrust of energy. Not anger, he was too shocked to be angry. He felt—yes, betrayed. Aunt Hes had been his ally, had never attempted to push him into matrimony. He had thought she had given up this notion of his making a match with Maidie. He could not marry Maidie! She must know that!
“You can’t have thought,” he uttered in a voice which sounded strangely hollow, even to his own ears. “She would drive me crazy. Do you have any idea how disrupted my life has been? Even my thoughts are no longer my own. It is not to be thought of! Do you think I could endure this confusion, this disorder, this—this, yes, discomfort. I have not had a day’s peace of mind since that girl entered this house. If I have to endure much more of it, there will be nothing for it but to put a period to my existence!”
Lady Hester laughed gently. “That bad? Dear me.”
“Of course it is that bad! Well, perhaps not quite so bad. But I tell you, I am positively glad the secret is out. At least I stand a chance of being rid of the wench.”
