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and declared, ‘We’ll tell her we’re sorry.’

      ‘Yes, we’ll make it up to her!’

      ‘I hope so,’ said Monty. ‘Because she is your sister now. And she is here to stay.’

      Two sombre footmen came to the sitting room, armed with stepladders, to re-hang the curtains.

      ‘I slipped on the floorboards,’ said Midge, redfaced, as one of them climbed to remount the curtain pole. ‘And grabbed the curtains to prevent myself from falling.’

      The two men exchanged meaningful glances as they re-positioned the set of ladders by the chimney-breast and carefully began to replace the delicate ornaments in their correct positions.

      Knowing she had done all she could to prevent the boys from getting into trouble, Midge retreated to her bedroom to get changed for dinner.

      She did not see Monty again until just before it was time to go downstairs. He emerged from the door to his own room, strode across to her and took both her hands in his.

      ‘Are you angry with me?’ he said.

      ‘Me? Angry with you?’

      If anything, she would have thought Monty would have been furious with her for having made such a spectacle of herself.

      ‘It was imperative I got the dog out of here before father realized what the twins had done,’ he explained. ‘When I got down to the kennels and learned their punishment for breaking the rules would have been to see their pets drowned, it made me sure I had done the right thing. But the hell of it was, I did not have time to ensure you were unharmed.’

      ‘Oh, never mind that!’ exclaimed Midge, horrified to think of anything so dreadful happening to that dear little dog. ‘I was not hurt. Only embarrassed.’

      He smiled with relief. Then linked his arm with hers, saying, ‘Come on, time to go down and face the music.’

      Oh, Lord, she swallowed. However was she going to look her new father-in-law in the face? The last time he’d seen her, she had been lying on her back on the floor, completely covered with curtains. Apart from her legs, which, she recalled with chagrin, had been waving around in the air.

      The earl was sitting on a comfortable chair by a roaring fire, in what was otherwise quite a chilly reception room. He accorded Midge a cool nod of recognition when he saw them enter the room, but did not deign to rise to his feet. At first she was somewhat taken aback by such a lapse of manners, but then she remembered he was reckoned to be something of an invalid.

      Though as she eyed him more keenly, a frown gathered on her brow. He had a spare frame and a weary look to his eyes, but his fair hair was still abundant and his skin, though pale, not unduly lined. In fact, he did not look in the least ill to her.

      Then he turned to Monty, and the temperature in the room dropped by several degrees, the look he accorded his son and heir was so frosty. Monty returned the look with equal froideur, took her arm and led her towards an ascetic-looking cleric, who had got to his feet.

      ‘Allow me to present my father’s personal chaplain, the Reverend Norrington,’ said Monty as the cleric made his bow. ‘And my father’s private physician, Dr Cottee.’ A rubicund gentleman, who had been taking a glass from a salver held out by one of the footmen, nodded to her affably.

      ‘Now that you are here, we shall go in,’ announced the earl dryly, getting to his feet with a fluidity of movement that was surprising for a man she had been told was an invalid.

      The menu gave her pause, though. Every dish that was presented seemed designed to tempt the appetite of an elderly, sickly man. A delicate, transparent consommé in which she could just detect the flavour of chicken, was followed by steamed fish and a selection of boiled vegetables, and rounded off with an assortment of milk puddings.

      Not that she managed to eat much of anything. She had been a bundle of nerves before even coming down. Now, the coldness of the earl, the haughty demeanour of the footmen and the blandness of the food completely robbed her of her appetite.

      Worse still, nobody talked! Not that she would have dared say anything, had anyone attempted to strike up a conversation. She was quite sure that if she opened her mouth for any reason, she would only give the earl an even worse impression of her. And her hands were shaking so badly that, when she reached for her wine glass, she decided she had better not attempt to drink anything either. She was bound to spill her wine over the pristine white drapery! She withdrew her hand and tucked it in her lap.

      ‘We are not used to entertaining females at Shevington,’ remarked the earl as he discarded his napkin and signalled for the removal of the cloth.

      It took Midge a few seconds to realize that this was the signal for her to go to whatever drawing room was designated for use for the rest of the evening.

      But as she got to her feet, he added, ‘You will retire to your own rooms.’

      Midge couldn’t help herself. She just gaped at him as she realized she was being dismissed! Not that she was not relieved that her ordeal in the earl’s company was at an end, but still, it was not pleasant to think he could not tolerate one second more of her company either.

      There was a scraping of chairs as the other gentlemen got to their feet, expecting her to meekly quit the field.

      ‘W-well, good night then,’ she stammered, blundering towards the door.

      ‘I shall come with you,’ said Monty, flinging his napkin onto the table.

      ‘I wish you to remain here,’ snapped the earl. ‘I have several matters I wish to discuss.’

      ‘I don’t think that would be wise, do you Dr Cottee? Considering the delicate state of my father’s digestion.’

      The doctor’s smile froze as his eyes darted from one implacable aristocrat to the other.

      ‘Oh, if your father wants you to—’ Midge began. Monty grabbed her by the elbow and propelled her towards the door.

      ‘Silence!’ he hissed into her ear. And then, with a cold smile at his father, ‘I assure you, my response to those matters you wish to discuss would be bound to give you indigestion. Far better to talk in the morning.’

      ‘As you say.’ The earl’s thin lips twisted into a sneer. ‘Run along after your wife, then, boy.’

      Monty marched Midge to their rooms in silence. Only when he had kicked the door shut behind him did he round on her. ‘Do not argue with me in front of my father, ever again!’ He spun away from her, running his fingers through his hair.

      ‘I…I did not mean to. I just thought—’

      ‘Well, don’t think! Just follow my lead. And for God’s sake, let me do the fighting in future.’

      Midge was sorely tempted to sketch him a salute. She settled for merely saying, ‘Yes, Major! Any further orders?’

      ‘Dammit.’ He seized her by the shoulders and gave her a little shake. ‘I am trying to defend you, here. Keep you out of trouble! Can’t you see that?’

      The trouble was, she could. She had not been here five minutes before she had demonstrated how out of place she was. Dinner tonight had confirmed he had not made the wisest of choices in her. His father had obviously been dying to get him alone, and give him a trimming for bringing home a girl who was so gauche and awkward and clumsy. Leave alone being a daughter of scandal.

      ‘I fear that task is even beyond you, Major Claremont,’ she said, her whole body drooping with the realization of how badly she was bound to let him down.

      ‘No,’ he growled. ‘It is not. It must not be.’ Something like desperation clouded his features before he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

      There was something about the way he kissed when he was angry that thrilled her to the core.

      Her despondency vanished

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