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Not, at least, unless Miss Huxtable wished to leave. His primary responsibility at the moment was to her.
But she had asked him a question. "No," he replied. "But I will certainly escort you home if you wish to go." "There is no need for you to put yourself out," Merton said curtly. "It will give me the greatest pleasure to remove my sister from harm's way and myself from a potentially ugly scene. If I were you, Meg, I would say a permanent good-bye to the Earl of Sheringford." Her eyes had not left Duncan's. "Thank you both," she said, "but I intend to stay. It would be ill-ma
Margaret Huxtable was a brave woman. Perhaps a formidable woman, as he had suspected before tonight. She was prepared to stay and face whatever might happen. Randolph Turner was here. So was Caroline. "You did not discover last evening," he asked her, "that Major Dew can make you happier than I?" Her lips tightened. He ought not to have asked. She might think he was jealous. But though he did not like Dew, he did suspect that she still harbored tender feelings for the man. He certainly did not want her married to him and pining for another man for the rest of her life. "I am not making a choice between the two of you," she said. "This is not a competition, my lord. Crispin Dew offered me marriage again last evening, and again I said no. I have not said no to you – yet. When I know the answer to be no, I will say it. And if I ever know the answer to be yes, I will say that too." He half smiled at her. "Shall we move into the next room, then?" he suggested. "My uncle has an impressive collection of old maps, which he has always kept in the library, though I doubt they are on display tonight." "Let us go and see," she said, and she gripped his arm a little more tightly and smiled.
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THE sudden hush in the crowded library, followed by a renewed rush of conversation, informed Duncan that at least one of the three people he least wished to meet must be in this very room. He looked unhurriedly about him. And sure enough, there was Caroline seated on the padded window seat, Norman standing beside her.
Duncan inclined his head affably in their direction. Miss Huxtable was greeting Con, who was with a redheaded beauty. "Margaret? Sherry?" Con said with an u
Norman was making his way toward them with purposeful strides. Duncan had been right in the impression he had had of him the night before last. He had not changed, except in girth and the amount of hair that remained on his head. There was nothing new about the height of his shirt points or the look of pomposity he wore. He was also looking righteously outraged.
And at some time during the past five years he had acquired a second chin. "Sheringford," he said when he was close enough to make himself heard, and though there was no noticeable abatement in the volume of conversation in the library, Duncan would be willing to bet a fortune, if he had one to bet, that everyone in the room would be able to report the conversation verbatim tomorrow morning to anyone unfortunate enough not to be here in person. "Norm," Duncan said pleasantly. "May I have the pleasure of presenting Miss Huxtable? Norman Pe