THE BARONET'S DAUGHTER

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

                             CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

THAT SAME AFTERNOON

Sir Hugo strode into the Birkett’s sitting room his sunburned face wreathed in smiles.

    ‘’Day to you, Susan, dear sister,’ he began and then looked around. ‘Where is Eleanor?’

    Lady Susan rose swiftly to her feet and faced him, her expression stormy.

    ‘You may well ask,’ she said tetchily. ‘Hugo, you are the creator of a great deal of mischief.’

    ‘I?’ He looked at her innocently. ‘What mischief have I made?’

    ‘When I told Ambrose of your plans to wed Eleanor, he flew into a terrible rage. He expressed a desire to knock your head off your shoulders.’

    ‘Ah! Ah!’ Sir Hugo slapped his thigh gleefully. ‘My plan moves on a pace.’

    ‘Your plan?’

    ‘Dear Susan, I knew that when I expressed my penchant for Eleanor you would tell Ambrose of it and it would bring him to his senses. I was right!’

    ‘Oh, Hugo!’ Lady Susan wailed. ‘Your meddling has caused a furore. There has been a great quarrel between them. At this very minute Eleanor is in her room packing her things. She is leaving us.’

    ‘A lover’s quarrel,’ Sir Hugo said cheerfully. ‘Believe me, Susan, it is nothing. It will blow over.’

    ‘Hugo, you imbecile!’ Lady Susan cried out. ‘I have spoken to Eleanor. She has told me what passed between them. Ambrose was a brute! He accused her of deceit, underhandedness and of dangling after you. He called her a Jezebel.’

    Sir Hugo’s face fell. ‘The Devil he did!’

    ‘Eleanor has foresworn never to speak to Ambrose again and she means it,’ Lady Susan said. ‘She is moving out of this house today. That, Hugo, is your doing.’

    ‘Where will she go?’

    ‘Birkett has found a house for her to rent in BeaumontGardens. Oh, I am so worried for her. She should not be alone.’

    ‘I will go up and reason with her this minute,’ Sir Hugo said.

    ‘You will do no such thing!’ Lady Susan said emphatically. ‘You have done enough damage; you and Ambrose between you.’

    Sir Hugo looked chastened. ‘...er...I have just remembered a previous appointment,’ he said. ‘I must take my leave.’

    Lady Susan threw up her hands as she watched him go. Was ever a women so beset with such dunderheaded brothers?

Ambrose sat in his study at his house. He had a broadsheet spread out before him on his desk but he could not see one word of print.

    His head was in turmoil. He had never felt so miserable in his life, not even on the battlefield. He was conscious of a feeling of deep shame bearing down on him and he knew he had done something unforgivable.

    Eleanor! He moaned as he remembered how her gentle face had turned chalk white when he had called her that abominable name. Why had he done that? What had got into him? He wished to God that he could take it back.

    But what was done was done. And it was Hugo’s fault.

    He snatched up the broadsheet and folded it in half. The printed words were twisting and turning before his eyes.