Free Bath Tangle by Georgette Heyer Page A

throbbing beside his thinned mouth.
    ‘Indeed, I believe it to be a kind of unthinking arrogance, but it does you no credit, Rotherham! If you went to a public Assembly, you had no choice but to behave with civility towards all! You might have danced with no one, since your excuse for going there was only to indulge your young guests with a ball, but for a whim to single out one girl and she by far the loveliest! – and then to stroll away, as though you thought yourself above the rest of the company – oh, no, Ivo, how could you? Every feeling is offended!’
    ‘I thank you! You have quite a turn for the high dramatic! No doubt you expect me now to return for the express purpose of conferring upon two or three other damsels the singular honour – if such you do indeed consider it! of standing up with me!’
    ‘It is what my father would have done in such a situation, for he was most truly the gentleman!’ she said, a sob rising in her throat. ‘I should think the better of you!’
    ‘I care nothing for your opinion of me!’ he snapped. ‘Lady Spenborough, have you any commissions for me to execute in London? I shall be most happy!’
    ‘Oh, none, thank you!’ she said faintly.
    ‘Then I will take my leave! Your most obedient servant, ma’am!’
    A formal bow, one scorching glance thrown at Serena, and he was gone.
    ‘Oh, dear!’ said Fanny, pressing her hands to her temples. ‘I feel quite sick! And, oh, Serena , we never thought to offer him so much as a glass of ratafia!’

Five
    It was hardly to be expected, Serena thought, that the several ladies of their acquaintance in the neighbouring district would spare her a description of the Boxing Day Assembly, and greatly did she dread being obliged to listen either to animadversions on Rotherham’s manners, or to bitter criticisms of Lady Laleham’s encroaching ways. But the weather saved her. A week of incessant rain made quagmires of all the roads, and rendered the paying of morning-calls ineligible. They were undisturbed by visitors at the Dower House until Spenborough had himself driven there one afternoon to announce to the ladies Jane’s safe delivery of a son.
    He was a fond and an excellent father, and could scarcely have been more delighted if the child had been his first son, instead of his fourth. Fanny and Serena tried to say all that was expected of them, and succeeded so well that he found himself very much in charity with them both, and confided to them that the happy event had relieved his mind of considerable anxiety. ���For, you know, with the shock of my cousin’s sad death, and all the exertion of disposing of the house, and the bringing of the children to Milverley, there is no saying what might have happened. But Jane is equal to anything!’
    They reiterated their congratulations; he beamed, and thanked, and said: ‘Extremely obliging! I knew you would be glad, and determined you should be the first to be informed of the event. We mean the child to be given the name of Francis, and we hope, Lady Spenborough, that you will consent to be one of his sponsors!’
    Fanny, quite pink with pleasure, said that she would be most happy; and Serena, seeing that she was really gratified, determined to forgive Jane for cutting up the South Lawn into a formal flower-garden, and even suggested that Hartley should stay to dine at the Dower House. He needed no persuasion; a message was sent to the stables; another to the kitchen; and he sat down in a wing-chair beside the fire to discuss, over several glasses of sherry, the doctor’s opinion of Jane’s constitution, the midwife’s admiration of her fortitude, and the very diverting things the elder children had said upon being informed that God had sent them a new brother.
    It was some time before these topics had been talked out, but at last he could think of no more to say on them. He said that he must not go boring on, complimented Fanny on her cook’s way of dressing a haunch of