The Black Moth, Georgette Heyer [self help books to read .txt] 📗

but a man. But no matter—I knew. I quite adored Diana, and determined to talk to her alone. So I admired the roses, and she offered to escort me round the garden, which was what I wanted. We went out together. I think Diana must have liked me, for—”

“Nonsense!”

“Be quiet, Miles!—for she dropped her ice and became quite friendly. And I talked a lot.”

She was aware of a convulsive movement above her, and a suppressed cough. She raised inquiring eyebrows.

“Well, sir?”

“Nothing, asthore—nothing. Go on with the tale—you were saying—”

“That I talked a lot.” She paused, and her eyes dared him; then she dimpled and dropped her lashes over them. “I shan’t tell you all I said—”

A relieved sigh interrupted her.

“And if you continue to behave in this disagreeable fashion I shall not say another word about anything!”

Having satisfied herself that he was not going to venture a retort, she continued:

“We had a long chat, and I gathered, from all she said and left unsaid, that Jack, for some foolish reason, will not ask her to marry him.”

“Foolish reason, asthore?” he interrupted.

“Oh, I know you consider it a remarkable fine reason, but I tell you, ‘tis rank cruelty to that poor child. As if she cared about highwaymen!”

“‘Twas not so much that, I take it, as—”

“Yes, but he could tell her he was innocent—oh, Miles, do not look so provoking! Of course he could! I vow if you had treated me so, I would never have let you go until you had truly repented! I am of a mind to speak to Jack.”

“‘Twould be an entertaining sight, but ye’ll kindly have a care how you touch him, my lady.”

“He does not understand. I know she would be proud to marry him—”

“And ye’d think it a fine thing in Jack to ask her, the way things are with him at present?”

“I—oh, I don’t know!”

“No, me love. Jack is right: he must first clear his name.”

“Then, gracious goodness me, why does he not?” cried Molly, exasperated.

This time it was O’Hara’s turn to look superior.

“Well, alanna, that’s a question ye cannot hope to understand—because ye are but a woman.”

Lady O’Hara ignored the challenge.

“But what is to be done?”

“Nought. He will have to work it out himself. He bound me to secrecy some time ago, or I would be tempted to speak to Richard.”

“I quite hate Richard!” she cried. “He must be a selfish, unkind person. And now Jack swears he must go away almost at once—and, oh! you should have seen Diana’s face of despair when I mentioned that he was going abroad again. Miles, we must keep him here as long as ever we can! Oh, dear! ‘tis all very worrying.”

She broke off as O’Hara pressed her hand warningly. My lord was coming across the lawn towards them.

“I am in dire disgrace,” he said. “I was left with your ferocious baby, Molly, and to quiet him, I gave him a string of beads that you had left on the table.”

“My precious Indian wooden beads!”

“Yes—I believe so. Anyway, the paint came off, and when Jane returned, David looked as though he had some horrible disease. She was most annoyed about it.” He sat down in Molly’s lately vacated chair, and carefully wiped a daub of green from his forefinger.

Molly laughed.

“Poor Jane! She will have such a task to clean him. But you’ve arrived most opportunely. We were talking of you.”

O’Hara groaned inwardly, and tried to frown her down.

“You were? I am flattered! May I ask what you were saying?”

“Why, that we do not want you to go back to France.”

O’Hara breathed again.

“That is very kind of you, my lady. I regret the necessity myself.”

“Are you sure it is necessary? You might just as well live in a nice place near here, with a dear old woman to keep house for you—and—and Jim—and—lots of pleasant things.”

My lord shook his head.

“No, thank you!”

“Yes, yes! And later on you could choose a wife!” she continued audaciously.

“Not at all. There would be no choice; I should be made to marry the dear old woman. You would bully me into it.”

She laughed.

“Seriously, Jack, could you not settle down near here?”

“Not with that old woman, Molly.”

“Never mind her; won’t you consider it? No one need know you—in fact, you need see no one—and—oh, Jack! don’t look like that. Miles, is he not ridiculous?”

“Sure, alanna, ‘tis a dreary life he’d be leading,” chuckled O’Hara.

“I see what it is, Molly. You have planned to make me a recluse, and to marry me to my housekeeper. I protest, ‘tis great ill-usage!”

Molly eyed him doubtfully.

“Would you much object to the life, John?”

“Madam,” he replied solemnly, “you would find my corpse in the garden at the end of the first week.”

“Of course I should not like that,” she pondered. “But I do not see what else we can do for you. Oh, and that reminds me! I drove over to Littledean yesterday—Miles, my love, will you be so kind as to fetch me my hat? I protest, the sun—”

“We will move more into the shade,” said her disobliging husband.

“Oh, well! ‘tis of no account, though I did hear that Brown was wanting to speak to you about the new cob—”

“‘Tis prodigious thoughtful of you, Molly, but I met Brown some time ago.”

Lady O’Hara gave it up.

“Well, as I was saying, Jack, I went to call at Horton House. Dear me, what a beautiful girl Diana is, to be sure!”

Carstares tried to think of something to say, and failing, made a non-committal sound.

“Yes. They both sent their kind wishes, and hoped you were better. Goodness! ‘tis very close here. I wonder if you will give me your arm round the garden? And would you fetch me my hat? I left it in the hall, I think. Thank you very much!”

She waited until he was out of earshot before she turned to her husband.

“Now, Miles, you must please to stay where you are. I am not going to do anything indiscreet.”

“Molly, I can’t have ye worry him—”

“No such thing! I am going to coax him to stay here instead of going abroad. I feel sure that if we can but persuade him to stay, something will happen.”

“What will happen?”

“Something!”

“How do ye know?”

“I don’t know; I only feel it.”

“Very well, asthore. If you can tease Jack into staying, I’ll bless ye.”

“That will be most enjoyable, I make no doubt!” she answered, and stepped back out of reach.

“Oh, thank you, John!” She tied the hat over her curls, and placed her hand on my lord’s arm. “Lazy Miles is going to sleep again!” she said. “And I so dislike to hear him snore, so let’s go a long way away—into the rose garden!”

“Don’t go so far as all that!” drawled Miles, closing his eyes. “You will tire yourselves.”

“Do you allow him to make these ribald remarks?” inquired Jack, waiting for her to extricate a stone from her shoe.

“Not usually,” she answered. “He takes advantage when you are here.” She dropped the pebble on top of O’Hara and strolled away with my lord.

As soon as they had rounded a corner in the shrubbery, she commenced the attack.

“I want to speak to you of Miles,” she confided. “He is so worried.”

“Is he, Molly? Faith, I hadn’t noticed it!”

She reflected that neither had she, but continued, nothing daunted:

“Ah, but he is!”

“What worries him?”

“You,” sighed the lady mournfully. “‘Tis the thought of your leaving us. I feel it myself.”

“Why—”

“He had hoped you would be with us for a long time—as I had.”

“‘Tis monstrous good of you both, but—”

“I am sure I do not know what I shall do with Miles when you are gone. He was so looking forward to having you with him.”

“Molly—”

“And, indeed, it has come as a great disappointment to both of us to hear you talk of leaving. Won’t you think better of it?”

“Molly, you overwhelm me… . How can I remain here indefinitely?”

“If only you would! You don’t know how happy it would make us. I declare Miles will worry himself quite ill if you persist in being so unkind.”

“Oh, Molly, you rogue!”

She could not repress a smile, but checked it almost at once.

“I mean it, Jack.”

“What! That Miles is worrying himself ill over me? Fie!”

“Perhaps not as bad as that,” she admitted. “But, indeed, he is much perturbed… . and, oh! I wish that you would not make us so unhappy.” She dabbed at her eyes with a wispy handkerchief, but managed to watch his face all the same. “David loves you so, the pet! and Miles is so delighted to have found you again—and I like you—and—and—and I think ‘twill be indeed rude and horrid if you do go—besides being so silly!”

“Do you, Molly? You make me feel I should be an ungrateful boor to refuse—”

The handkerchief was whisked away.

“Then, of course you won’t try to refuse! You’ll stay? Promise!”

“I cannot thank you enough—”

“Oh, you nice Jack! Till the autumn? Promise!”

“Molly, I really—”

“Promise! I shall cry if you do not!”

“I cannot! How could I prey upon your hospitality for so—”

“What rubbish, Jack! As if Miles had not spent months and months at Wyncham when you were boys—”

“That was different—”

“—when you were boys, and now you are so proud that you refuse to stay three miserable little months with us—”

“No, no, Molly; indeed, ‘tis not that!”

“Confess, if Miles were a bachelor, you would not hesitate?”

He was silent, nonplussed.

“You see! And just because he has a wife you are disagreeable and proud. You feel you cannot bear to stay with me—”

“I swear I do not!”

“Then why do you refuse?” she triumphed.

“Molly—really, I—” He broke off, laughing. “You little wretch, you leave me nothing to say!”

“Then you will stay, as I ask?”

“You are quite sure—”

“Quite.”

“Thank you very much, I will stay. ‘Tis monstrous good of you, I vow. When you are tired of me, say so.”

“I will,” she promised. “Oh, but we shall do famously! How pleased Miles will be! By the way,” she continued, airily, “I asked the Miss Beauleighs to honour us on Wednesday, but, unfortunately, they could not. Still, perhaps some other d—”

She stopped, a little frightened, for he was standing before her, gripping her shoulders in a very elder-brotherly fashion.

“Listen to me, Molly. I know that you have discovered that I love Diana, and I know that you think to be very kind and to bring us together. But I tell you that ‘twill not be kind at all, only very cruel to us both. If you worry her to come here, I must go. Do you see?”

Molly looked into the stern eyes, and her lip trembled.

“I’m very—sorry!” she faltered.

Jack drew her arm through his once more.

“‘Tis nothing to be sorry about; and, indeed, I am very grateful to you for trying to make me happy. But please do not!”

“No, I promise I will not. But—but do you think you are being quite fair to—”

“Molly, tell me this: do you think you are being quite good to disobey your husband?”

The blue eyes were dancing. She smiled doubtfully.

“What do you mean, Jack?”

“Do you tell me that Miles did not expressly forbid you to mention this subject to me?”

She pulled her hand away, her mouth forming a soundless “Oh!”

“Well—well—well, how horrid of