Regency Buck by Georgette Heyer Page A

woman, ain’t she? You know, my dear, things are left very awkwardly. You won’t like to be in a stranger’s hands. And this fellow, Worth, to have the handling of your fortunes! I don’t like it. He’s a gamester, none too plump in the pocket, I was hearing. There’s no denying that was a corkbrained Will of your poor father’s. But I daresay he was not himself, hey?”
    Mr. Taverner must have had remarkably acute hearing, for he turned his head sharply, looking very hard at his father, and before Judith was at the necessity of answering what she could only feel to be an impertinence, he had come across the room towards them, and said pleasantly: “Excuse me, sir, I think such a discussion must be painful to my cousin. Judith—I may venture?—I have been trying to engage Peregrine to give me the pleasure of his company at the play. May I hope that you and Mrs. Scattergood will also honour me? I think you have not visited the theatre yet.” He smiled down at her. “May mine be the privilege of escorting you to your first play? What shall it be? There’s Kemble and Mrs. Siddons at Covent Garden, or Bannister at Drury Lane, if your taste should be for comedy. You have only to name it.”
    Her cheeks glowed with pleasure. She thanked him, and accepted, choosing, to Peregrine’s disgust, the tragedy. Her uncle was still busy congratulating his son on his good fortune in having secured such a beauty to be his guest when the door opened, and the butler announced the Earl of Worth.
    Miss Taverner, taken quite by surprise, exchanged a swift glance with her brother, and began to instruct the butler to convey their excuses to his lordship. It was too late, however; the Earl must have followed the servant up the stairs, for he entered the room while the words of denial were on Judith’s lips.
    He certainly heard them, but he gave no other sign of having done so than a faint curl of his lips. His coldly appraising gaze took in the company; he bowed slightly, and said in his languid voice that he was fortunate to have found his wards at home. Judith was obliged to present her uncle and cousin.
    The Earl’s visit could not have been worse-timed; she cared nothing for his opinion, but to introduce the Admiral to him must still be a mortification. She fancied she could perceive a look of disdain in his face, and it was with relief that she brought her cousin to his notice. There at least she had nothing to be ashamed of.
    A few civilities were exchanged, the Earl bearing his part in these with a formality that set off Mr. Taverner’s easier, more open manners to advantage. A silence, which the Earl made no effort to break, soon fell, and while Judith was trying to think of something to say, and wishing that Mrs. Scattergood would come back into the room, her cousin, with what she must feel to be instinctive good taste, reminded the Admiral that they had another engagement in the neighborhood, and should be taking their leave.
    The bell was pulled, the footman came up to usher the visitors out, and in a few minutes they were gone.
    The Earl, who had been calmly inspecting Judith through his eye-glass, let it fall, and said: “I see you have been taking my advice, Miss Taverner.” He glanced round the room. “Is this house to your liking? It seems to be rather above the general run of furnished houses.”
    “Have you not been inside it before?” she demanded.
    “Not to my knowledge,” he said, raising his brows. “Why should I?”
    “I thought it was you who—” she broke off, cross with herself at having said so much.
    “Oh no,” he replied. “Blackader chose it.” He turned his head to look at Peregrine, and an expression of pain crossed his features. “My good boy, are you emulating the style of Mr. Fitzjohn and his associates, or is that monstrous erection round your neck due merely to the clumsiness of your valet?”
    “I was in a hurry,” said Peregrine defensively, and reddening in spite of