‘I might have known! It was her doing, then?’
‘No, indeed it was not! Mrs Gillingham is unknown to Theresa, though she did say that she thought her quite unexceptionable – as I did myself, Sherry, for she seemed so, you know!’
‘Yes, I know!’ he said grimly. ‘Tell me the whole!’
She obediently recounted all the circumstances of her meeting with Mrs Gillingham, and while he listened his brow grew darker and darker. By the time he had been made aware of the manner in which the lady had insinuated herself into his wife’s company, of the arts she had employed to inspire Hero with confidence, and of her readiness to permit her to punt on tick, he was looking so much like a thundercloud that Hero faltered in her recital, and could only gaze imploringly at him. She saw then that there was more than anger in his face, an intent expression in his eyes, which seemed to be frowning not so much at her as at something beyond her. She ventured to say: ‘I have done very wrong, but I did not mean to, Sherry.’
He paid no heed; he was looking at the clock. ‘I am going out,’ he said abruptly. ‘I shall be back to dine with you, however.’
‘Going where, Sherry?’ she asked uneasily.
‘Never mind that! There is something I have to do – and I’m not dining until I’ve done it!’
‘Don’t go! So angry with me –!’
‘I’m not angry with you.’ He put his arm round her, and hugged her. ‘There! You are the most troublesome brat alive, but you don’t mean to be! I ought never – However, it’s done now!’ He turned her face up, and kissed her cheek. ‘Now, don’t cry while I’m away, for there is not the least occasion for it! Besides, it don’t suit you to have red eyes, and I don’t like it. Promise?’
She nodded, rather mistily smiling, and he left the room, ran down the stairs, shrugged himself into his greatcoat, caught up his hat and cane, and let himself out of the house, striding off in a southerly direction down the street.
He had not far to go to reach his goal, and he was fortunate enough to find that the quarry had not yet left the house, although a chair had been called for to carry him to an evening-party, his valet informed the Viscount.
‘You need not trouble to announce me,’ Sherry said, mounting the stairs to the first floor. ‘I’ll announce myself!’
The valet, perceiving nothing unusual in this, bowed, and retired again to the nether regions. Sherry continued on his way to the front parlour, and entered without ceremony.
Sir Montagu, who was dressed for a ball, was adjusting the folds of his cravat in the mirror, and it was in this mirror that his eyes met Sherry’s. For an instant he did not move, then he turned, smiling urbanely, and stretching out his hand. ‘Why, Sherry!’ he said caressingly. ‘You young rascal, you gave me quite a start!’
‘Did I?’ said Sherry, ignoring the outstretched hand.
‘Indeed you did! But you are always a welcome visitor, as I hope you know! What fortune did you have at the races?’
‘I’ve not come to talk to you about the races.’
Sir Montagu’s brows rose. He said in a chiding tone: ‘You sound out of reason cross, my dear boy! Now, what has happened to put you in one of your miffs?’
‘This has happened!’ Sherry said, a very ugly look in his eye. ‘I find that someone – someone, Revesby! – has been trying to do my wife a mischief while I’ve been away from home!’
‘Well, that is certainly very shocking, Sherry, but what has it to do with me?’
‘Spare yourself the trouble of playing off your tricks on me!’ Sherry flung at him. ‘I’m not the fool you take me for! I know what ladybirds you fly with, and Charlotte Gillingham is one of them!’
‘Sherry, what in the world –’
‘Who set the Gillingham on to lure my wife into her house? She never did so for her own ends! Very clever, Revesby! But not clever enough! My wife was present when you disowned your bastard brat! It was she who took the girl under her protection, and you knew it! Yes, and all the town knows it, but it was not she who split on you, my buck! It was some others whom you would not dare to be revenged on, I fancy! By God, I should have known with what a fellow I had to deal! But I know now, and you shall answer for it!’
Sir Montagu was looking a trifle pale, but he replied with perfect composure: ‘You are out of your senses, my dear boy. I suspect that you are even a little foxed. I do not know what you are talking of.’
‘Oh, yes, you do!’ Sherry said fiercely. ‘I’mnot a country wench to be fobbed off so easily! I knew whom I had to thank for this start as soon as I heard the Gillingham’s name mentioned! You fool, did you believe I should not? Why, what a flat you must think me!’
‘I think you a hot-headed young man, my dear Sherry. Go and ask Mrs Gillingham if I had anything to do with Lady Sheringham’s visit to her house, if you do not believe me!’
‘Where did you raise the money to pay her for playing your game?’ Sherry asked insultingly. ‘Or does she do it for love of you?’
‘Go home, Sherry: you are certainly a trifle bosky! I shall not allow you to pick a quarrel with me, you know!’
‘Won’t you, by God!’ Sherry said, and struck him across the face with the gloves he held clenched in his hand.
Sir Montagu’s pale cheek flamed under the blow, and he stepped back quickly, breathing rather hard, and glaring at his antagonist.
