Delia came to herself with a bang. She turned on him. “A duel? No, Giff!”
His brows were lowering, and there was a smoulder in his eyes. “I prefer a fair fight. This underhand dealing chafes me. I’d have dealt fairly with him, but Piers chose stealth and treachery and he’s going to pay.”
She’d not seen this side of him before. He was as changeable as quicksilver. And, truth to tell, even more alluring with this dangerous edge to him. But it would not do. “What if he wins? In a duel, I mean.”
A perfectly saturnine smile curled his lip. “He won’t.”
His confidence both alarmed and impressed her. “You can’t know that, Giff.”
“I know my own strengths.” He seemed to shake off the unusual mood. “Never mind that. I’d best leave you. That aunt of yours looks as sharp as a knife. If she gets wind of this havey-cavey conduct she’ll have my guts for garters, I’ll be bound.”
“She’s more likely to demand the story from me,” said Delia on a rueful note. “She’s already suspicious, and I had to admit there was more to that day than the story your uncle concocted for me. I said I was sworn to secrecy.”
“Curse the creature! Well, it can’t be helped. But I’d best be off. We’re strangers, remember.”
“Then see you behave like one to me.” The beginnings of amusement lightened his face, and she sharpened her tone. “Don’t dare tease me with your eyes, you wretch, or I’ll…”
“You’ll what?”
She ignored the dance in those infuriating orbs. “I’ll have thought of something by the time it’s necessary, I assure you.”
He grinned. “I believe you. Never fear, I’ll behave.”
“Well, see you do, or it will be the worse for you.”
He cast up his eyes. “I’ve landed myself with a shrew! Go away, you scolding wench, and leave me to regain my manly dignity.”
Delia laughed and left him, albeit with reluctance.
Much to Delia’s astonishment, Lady Matterson made no attempt to prise her story out of her, though she made reference to the new arrival.
“Mr Giffard? Oh, yes, Mr Rodber introduced him to me.”
Aware of her aunt’s narrow gaze as she broached the subject, she kept her eyes on the shoreline where a party of children were playing at chasing the waves.
At the behest of Miss Watkinson, a number of Weymouth gentry were sitting on the grassy bank below the Esplanade, or on the larger rocks at the edge of the sand, picnicking on the viands that had been prepared for the aborted expedition. Some preferred their customary luncheon elsewhere, but Lady Matterson and her cronies, none of whom had the least intention of visiting Sandsfoot Castle, which they declared they had seen far too many times already, had taken advantage of the offerings and, ensconced on a bench brought out for the older residents, were tucking into the chicken and savoury patties with gusto, following these up with apricot tartlets and large slices of plum cake. Miss Watkinson harried the waiters and darted from group to group, ensuring everyone received their share and soliciting compliments upon her choice of fare.
There was no sign of Giff, but that did not prevent his name from coming up on several lips.
“A most personable young man, I thought,” said Mrs Poynings, “and not at all rag-mannered.”
Mr Warbleton, who had spent some years in the Orient, bridled. “What, because he’s from India, ma’am? D’ye suppose there ain’t Society enough for a young feller to learn how to behave?”
“Not if we’re to go by your conduct, Warbleton,” put in Lord Hadlow with a hearty laugh.
Lady Matterson intervened. “Don’t set him off, John, you know what he is.”
Indeed, Mr Warbleton’s already high colour deepened and he was clearly ready to take umbrage. Bouts of bickering between the two elderly gentlemen were apt to break out often, though Aunt Gertrude assured Delia they were the best of friends.
“Did you not think him handsome, Miss Burloyne?”
Delia turned to Mrs Poynings. “I hardly had a chance to observe him, ma’am. I was in a hurry to get to the library.”
The widow’s gaze became sly. “You had time enough to blush, my dear, for I saw it.”
“That will do, Emily. You are putting her to the blush now. I’ve no doubt all the young ladies reacted in similar fashion.”
Grateful for her aunt’s intervention, Delia managed a light tone. “Oh, well, he seemed gallant enough. Miss Watkinson says she secured him for tomorrow, so perhaps I will have a chance to observe him more closely.”