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She turned to Delilah, as fu at the teapot “In future, rief or ‘dear don? What on earth could that diffident boy have said to put you to the blush?”

“Perhaps I blushed atto draw hilance at her parent He knew perfectly hy she’d been talking frantically at Mr Langdon She’d been terrified the muddled creature would blurt out some quote from her papa’s memoirs She would not have been placed in so aard and frustrating a position if her papa had not been so obstinate

Delilah’s scowl turned into an expression of disdon still had the book Where was the stupid man? He should have returned it immediately He’d left Streetham Close hours before they had—and without so much as a farewell

“What on earth is the matter, miss? Have you spilled tea on your skirt? Did I not just tell you to keep an easy, ah the activity required no effort or concentration whatsoever?”

“I fear we must look deeper than the teapot, Millicent Obviously, Delilah is pining for Mr Langdon” Mr Des your pardon, ht his name into the conversation”

“Certainly not in so absurd a way,” said Delilah indignantly “Pining for him, indeed What nonsense I hope you will pay Papa no ible tease” She picked up a plate of pastries “Will you try the seed cake, My Lady?”

Lady Potterby sht air Is it not, Darryl? Could Queen Charlotte do any better, I ask you?”

“Not when His Majesty is by I understand he has long, bawdy conversations with the cucumber sandwiches,” was the irreverent reply

“That is cruel, Darryl, and possibly seditious You cannot kno the poor man suffers”

“Of course I know Am I not acquainted with his sons? It’s a wonder toSurely the first half dozen must have shown him his seed was cursed”

“You will not speak of such topics before the girl, sir If she has had a steady diet of such conversation, it is alady ,” Lady Potterby pointed out to her grand niece, “or she will appear hardened in iniquity”

“No fear of that,” said Mr Desentleman who must remain nameless is by, I assure you”

“Papa, you aredown her cup and saucer with a clatter that reat aunt frown

“Indeed you are, Darryl Why do you tease so about poor Mr Langdon? I cannot believe he has beenlady, for that ether,” the lady went on, instantly reverting to an earlier bone of contention with her male relative “You should never have stopped there when that wicked young ot your e Do you know the dreadful boy took Annabelle Carstairs into the hedgerows—on his own father’s property—and now she calls herself Mrs Johnson and lives in Dublin, and there never was a Mr Johnson, not that ever stood before the parson with her”

“Oh, not that rattle,” said Desh Didn’t you, my precious?”

Miss Desdon had steered her away so firmly If Lady Streetham had not rushed out of the house but that was absurd Delilah Desmond was no naive Annabelle Carstairs She was not about to be seduced in bushes, for heaven’s sake

“He is obviously a rake,” she said primly

“He ive hireed “You did well to devote your attention to Mr Langdon instead”

“I did not –”

“I adly “But he at least is a perfect gentleman I am sure he subjected you to no over warm compliments”

“Well, heto raise her temperature I am sure she turned pink every time she was in his company,” said the pitiless father

“Papa!”

Lady Potterby was at last goaded into giving the matter serious attention “Good heavens, Darryl, are you certain? Do we speak of the sadon? That absentminded creature who always has his head in a book? He exerted hirand niece? He did not hurry off to hide in a corner with his tiresome Greeks?”