THE MISTRESS OF CASTLE CRAGGE

CHAPTER SIX

     Simkins gave an apologetic cough. ‘There is still the matter of the bar bill, sir. You have not forgotten, I am sure.’

     ‘Fear not, Simkins,’ Archie said confidently. ‘I am in funds. That little matter will be taken care of...er...shortly.’

     Simkins looked dubious. ‘Very good, sir.’

     Archie discarded his hat, cane and cloak which Simkins dutifully put away.

‘Are the gentlemen here tonight, Simkins?’

     ‘Mr Peter Ashgrove and Mr Gerald Swindale are in the billiards room, sir.’

    ‘What ho!’ Archie exclaimed and sailed off towards the billiards room, leaving Simkins to stare after him, shake his head and sigh audibly.

   ‘Tally ho!’ Archie made an entrance into the room.

   Two young men were at the billiards table, one, tall and slim, about to take a pot at the black. Startled, he missed the shot and looked up at the intruder with some annoyance.

‘Archie Peacock!’ he exclaimed. ‘I might have known. What the devil are you doing here? I thought you were in hiding from your debts?’

‘I’m back, Peter, old boy,’ Archie said cheerfully. ‘I’m in funds, don’t you know; at least, my Mama is. I shall be without a blot on my escutcheon within a day or two.’

‘What a miracle!’ exclaimed Gerald Swindale with a wry smile. ‘Anyway, you have done me a service. I have five pounds riding on this game with Peter. I cannot fail to win now.’

Peter threw down his cue. ‘Just my luck. It always goes sour when Archie is around.’

‘I say! That’s a bit thick,’ Archie said.

‘It’s true though,’ another voice said, and Basil Maxworthy strolled up to the table; a stalwart looking young man with a shock of red hair. ‘My Papa has threatened to cut me off without a penny if I associate with you again, Archie.’

‘Sir Unwin does me a disservice,’ Archie grumbled. ‘Bad luck was following me around like a starved dog last Season. But I’m in funds, now, I tell you. I’m turning over a new leaf. I’m determined to find myself a wealthy wife, too, while I am in London. It’s time I settled down.

There were hoots of derisive laughter.

‘It’s true, I tell you,’ Archie responded hotly. ‘My Mama has taken a house in Grosvenor Square. My sister Phoebe and her friend Esther Martindale are doing the Season. Esther’s father is fabulously rich and...hmmm!’

Archie stopped as the three faces before him lit up with quick interest.

‘Esther is rich,’ he continued hurriedly. ‘But she is also highly intelligent. My Mama says gentlemen do not trust clever women...’

‘I could certainly overlook her cleverness in the face of a fortune,’ Peter said. ‘She doesn’t even have to be pretty.’

‘That is my outlook, too,’ Gerald said. ‘Archie, you must invite me to meet this estimable young lady.’

‘I saw her first!’ Peter exclaimed.

‘Ester is very plain,’ Archie declared somewhat desperately. ‘In fact she is positively ugly.’

‘That is a confounded lie, Archie,’ Basil exclaimed. ‘I already have some acquaintance with Miss Esther Martindale. She is a great friend of my sisters, particularly Norah. And, don’t forget my father is a baronet. I’m a much better catch than you impoverished scoundrels.’