behind them. Sarah-Louise started guiltily. Even Lump raised his head. Andrew turned to see a patrician-looking lady of middle years staring icily at him. Her lips were narrow, her nose exceedingly Roman, and her hair blacker than ever nature had intended. "Who is this ?" she asked, in tones that made Andrew wish Miss Inchquist's Gorgon were wearing tassels so that Lump might knock the rude creature down.
What did it look like she was doing? Determined for once not to cower before authority, Sarah-Louise turned to meet her aunt's arctic gaze. "It-it was so close inside that I grew overwarm. You were d-deep in conversation and I did not wish to interrupt, and I d-did not think you would mind so terribly much if I stepped outside for a breath of fresh air."
The Gorgon was not appeased. The ostrich feathers on her bonnet trembled with the force of her outrage. Lump had no notion what a Gorgon was, but the feathers on her bonnet were very fine. Desirous of a more intimate acquaintance with those feathers, he bounded forward, placed a great, shaggy paw on her shoulder, and drooled.
She shrieked. Sarah-Louise choked back a giggle and demanded, "Stop this at once, sir!" in the same moment as Andrew drew back sharply on the leash.
Lump was surrounded by spoilsports. Sulkily, he dropped back down on the bricks. "It was my tassels that he liked, you see," Sarah-Louise explained to her horrified aunt.
Andrew limped forward. "I should have never brought him—or allowed him to bring me—among so many people." The Gorgon favored his lame leg with a startled glance. For the first time Andrew realized how being a cripple might prove to be of some benefit. "Fortunate it was that Miss Inchquist did step outside when she did. She saved me from a nasty tumble. Lieutenant Andrew Halliday of the 88th at your service, ma'am," he said, and made a gallant bow.
Chapter Five
Miss Halliday and her visitor had withdrawn to Georgia's bedchamber and firmly shut the door, thereby foiling the efforts of several interested parties to eavesdrop, a case of closing the stable gate entirely too late, for Tibble had already heard enough to astound his audience, if only he could remember it straight.
The bedroom was a pretty chamber furnished with a dressing table made in satinwood and decorated with festoons of flowers painted in natural colors and surmounted by a circular toilet-glass; a tallboy chest of drawers veneered with finely figured dark mahogany lined with oak; a reasonably fine wardrobe with matched oval panels of figured mahogany veneer; a tester bed with carved mahogany posts; and a corner basin stand. If the painted flowers had faded, and the veneer pulled away from its backing, and the wood of the tallboy chest had separated at the joint—well, the muslin window hangings were carefully mended and freshly washed, the faded carpet on the floor newly shaken and swept, the grate and andiron dusted and polished with Brunswick black. Pretty embroidered pictures hung upon the plaster walls. If there were no real treasures in this chamber, neither were there cobwebs nor dust.
Marigold glanced around the room, and then back at Georgie. Although the surroundings were not what she was accustomed to, it would be most imprudent for her to remark, because Georgie's expression was already very stern as she said, "Well,Marigold?"
Marigold's lush limps trembled. "I'm sure I meant no harm! I merely said all the ton have been whispering about Warwick, which they have, so you needn't glowerso. I thought youwould know the truth, because he is practically a member of your family. Or was, at any rate. But I do not mean to flog a dead horse!"
Georgie wondered how Lord Warwick would respond to this description of himself. "Marigold, you are a goose-cap. Warwick hasn’t murdered anyone. Now we will hear no more about it, if you please."
Marigold was quite content to speak no more of Warwick. She had not liked the man. Nor had he liked her, which was
What did it look like she was doing? Determined for once not to cower before authority, Sarah-Louise turned to meet her aunt's arctic gaze. "It-it was so close inside that I grew overwarm. You were d-deep in conversation and I did not wish to interrupt, and I d-did not think you would mind so terribly much if I stepped outside for a breath of fresh air."
The Gorgon was not appeased. The ostrich feathers on her bonnet trembled with the force of her outrage. Lump had no notion what a Gorgon was, but the feathers on her bonnet were very fine. Desirous of a more intimate acquaintance with those feathers, he bounded forward, placed a great, shaggy paw on her shoulder, and drooled.
She shrieked. Sarah-Louise choked back a giggle and demanded, "Stop this at once, sir!" in the same moment as Andrew drew back sharply on the leash.
Lump was surrounded by spoilsports. Sulkily, he dropped back down on the bricks. "It was my tassels that he liked, you see," Sarah-Louise explained to her horrified aunt.
Andrew limped forward. "I should have never brought him—or allowed him to bring me—among so many people." The Gorgon favored his lame leg with a startled glance. For the first time Andrew realized how being a cripple might prove to be of some benefit. "Fortunate it was that Miss Inchquist did step outside when she did. She saved me from a nasty tumble. Lieutenant Andrew Halliday of the 88th at your service, ma'am," he said, and made a gallant bow.
Chapter Five
Miss Halliday and her visitor had withdrawn to Georgia's bedchamber and firmly shut the door, thereby foiling the efforts of several interested parties to eavesdrop, a case of closing the stable gate entirely too late, for Tibble had already heard enough to astound his audience, if only he could remember it straight.
The bedroom was a pretty chamber furnished with a dressing table made in satinwood and decorated with festoons of flowers painted in natural colors and surmounted by a circular toilet-glass; a tallboy chest of drawers veneered with finely figured dark mahogany lined with oak; a reasonably fine wardrobe with matched oval panels of figured mahogany veneer; a tester bed with carved mahogany posts; and a corner basin stand. If the painted flowers had faded, and the veneer pulled away from its backing, and the wood of the tallboy chest had separated at the joint—well, the muslin window hangings were carefully mended and freshly washed, the faded carpet on the floor newly shaken and swept, the grate and andiron dusted and polished with Brunswick black. Pretty embroidered pictures hung upon the plaster walls. If there were no real treasures in this chamber, neither were there cobwebs nor dust.
Marigold glanced around the room, and then back at Georgie. Although the surroundings were not what she was accustomed to, it would be most imprudent for her to remark, because Georgie's expression was already very stern as she said, "Well,Marigold?"
Marigold's lush limps trembled. "I'm sure I meant no harm! I merely said all the ton have been whispering about Warwick, which they have, so you needn't glowerso. I thought youwould know the truth, because he is practically a member of your family. Or was, at any rate. But I do not mean to flog a dead horse!"
Georgie wondered how Lord Warwick would respond to this description of himself. "Marigold, you are a goose-cap. Warwick hasn’t murdered anyone. Now we will hear no more about it, if you please."
Marigold was quite content to speak no more of Warwick. She had not liked the man. Nor had he liked her, which was
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