A lesser man might have allowed this, combined with the catalogue of misdemeanours that greeted him in Queen’s Square, to dismay him; the Duke, having expected both, was able to accept them philosophically and with no diminution of his customary sang-froid. He merely smiled languidly upon the head-mistress, bestowed a hefty donation upon the school and removed his sister with impressive speed and efficiency. It was not until the chaise set forth again that any real conversation passed between them. And then, casting her demure bonnet triumphantly into the corner, Lady Elinor Wynstanton said forcefully, ‘Well! I never thought you’d come for me yourself.’ ‘I beg your pardon.’ His Grace achieved a mocking bow. ‘And who should I have sent? Who do you suppose there is left who would come?’ ‘Hercules? Christian? St George?’ Dark eyes, very like his own encompassed him unabashed. ‘But – truly, dearest Rock – if I wasn’t perfectly awful, would I ever see you at all?’ ‘Dear me!
