“Oh, be quiet, Walter! Very well, Lord Dymond, you’ve won this round.” Her eyes veered to Apple and she shrank inwardly at the malevolence in them. “As for you, Appoline Greenaway, there’ll be a reckoning between us before too long. You owe me and you’ll pay.” With which valedictory utterance, she gathered her dignity and, snapping her fingers at her brother, stalked past Berryman waiting patiently by the door.
Walter hesitated, casting a glance of dislike at Alex and a glare at Apple. “Ho! Ingratitude, that’s what it is!”
Berryman closed the door behind the couple, but they could be heard arguing all the way down the stairs.
“I’m perfectly exhausted,” said Georgy, sinking back into the chaise longue.
Alex blew out a breath. “Good riddance! What a devilish pair!”
Glad as she was to be free of them, Apple could not withstand a ripple of anxiety. She looked at Alex. “But she’s right, you know. I do owe her a great deal.”
“Gracious, Apple, how should you?” protested Georgy. “She’s perfectly horrid.”
“But she’s looked after me for several years. And when Papa died, she was very kind while I was grieving.”
“Pooh! I dare say she was merely trying to curry favour with you.”
“No, I believe she felt for me. She’s not always as belligerent as this.”
Alex came to her and, leading her to a chair, obliged her to sit down. “That’s as may be, but she ain’t well disposed towards you now.”
“She never was really, though I didn’t realise it until this business with Mr Cumberledge. I confess I never liked her overmuch.”
Georgy cast up her eyes. “Liked her? I should think not indeed.”
The sound of wheels on the gravel drive took Alex to the window. “They’re away all right. Doubt that’s the last we’ll see of ’em though.”
Georgy lifted her head. “That reminds me, Alex. How did you come to arrive just at the right moment? I was so relieved to see you, but I’m sure I never heard your horses or the coach wheels.”
Alex turned, a look of unholy glee in his face. “You wouldn’t. Left ’em at the gates and came to the house on foot.”
Georgy stared. “What a singular thing to do, Alex, are you mad?”
But Apple was ahead of her. “Do you mean you were behind them?”
“That’s it. Caught up with their coach a mile or so down the lane. Laycock had to slow down for it.”
“He would. It’s the most rumbling old thing and only goes at a snail’s pace.”
“True, and we had to rumble behind for ages. When it slowed almost to a walk, I poked my head out to find out what was toward, which is when Carver said the thing was turning into your drive, Georgy. I guessed it then, of course, and had Laycock stop the coach at once.”
Georgy clapped her hands. “How clever of you, Alex. But should we not tell Berryman to send someone up to bring it in now?”
“Lord, they’ll be in the stables by this time. Don’t suppose I’d leave the horses standing in this weather, do you?”
“And we didn’t hear them because of all the row going on in here,” said Apple, reflecting that his ingenuity had impressed her at the outset.
“Told them to walk the horses gently once they saw me let into the house.” He looked at his sister. “Can you have dinner brought forward, Georgy? I’m devilish sharp-set.”
To Apple’s disappointment, he then went off to freshen up before the meal. She’d hoped to tackle him not only about his mission with Vergette, but on the vexed question of what was to happen to her now. This loomed so large that it overshadowed the puzzle of what the lawyer might tell her after her twenty-first birthday. She had first to arrive at that date, and what she was to do in the weeks between she could not begin to fathom. Alex had said he would think of something, but for the life of her she could not imagine what.
Since Georgy, having rung for Berryman and given the order about dinner, decided she too would go up to make ready, Apple had nothing to do but to follow her example.
When she got to her chamber, she discovered the gowns from Emmeline’s had been left in her room. Nelly must have unpacked the bandboxes because they were disposed neatly across the bed with tissue paper lying between them.
A sliver of anticipation ran through Apple. It was so long since she’d had new gowns, and never entirely of her own choosing. She lifted up the russet morning gown and ran a hand over the silken feel of the material. Then she turned her attention to the muslin evening gown.
Should she change into it? She was still attired in the made-over gown of Georgy’s. The notion became irresistible when a sneaking thought came into her head. How would Alex think she looked in such a gown?
