Black Sheep

'Well, I've never been given any reason to suppose that I'm not!' he replied.

'You are? But surely – ?' Recollecting herself, Abby broke off, and said, with all the composure at her command: 'I must tell you, sir, that I am Miss Wendover!'

She observed, with satisfaction, that this disclosure exercised a powerful effect upon him. That disturbing smile vanished, and his black brows suddenly snapped together. He ejaculated: 'Miss who?'

'Miss Wendover,' she repeated, adding, for his further enlightenment: 'Miss Abigail Wendover!'

'Good God!' For a moment, he appeared to be startled, and then, as his curiously light eyes scanned her, he disconcerted her by saying: 'I like that! It becomes you, too.'

Roused to indignation, Abby, losing sight of the main issue, allowed herself to be lured into retorting: 'Thank you! I am excessively obliged to you! It is an outdated name, commonly used to signify a maidservant! You may like it, but I do not!' She added hastily: 'Nor, sir, did I make myself known to you for the purpose of discussing my name!'

'Of course not!' he said, so soothingly that she longed to hit him. 'Do tell me what it is you do wish to discuss! I'll oblige you to the best of my power, even though I don't immediately understand why you should wish to discuss anything with me. Forgive me! – I've no social graces! – but have I ever met you before?'

'No,' replied Abby, her lips curling in a contemptuous smile. 'You have not, sir – as well you know! But you will scarcely deny that you are acquainted with another member of my family!'

'Oh, no! I won't deny that!' he assured her. 'Won't you sit down?'

'I, sir,' said Abby, ignoring this invitation, 'am Fanny's aunt!'

'No, are you indeed? You don't look old enough to be anyone's aunt,' he remarked.

This piece of audacity was uttered in the most casual way, as though it had been a commonplace instead of an impertinence. He did not seem to have any idea that he had said anything improper, nor, from his general air of indifference, could she suppose him to have intended a compliment. She began to think that he was a very strange man, and one with whom it was going to be more difficult to deal than she had foreseen. He was obviously fencing with her, and the sooner he was made to realise that such tactics would not answer the better it would be. So she said coldly: 'You must know very well that I am Fanny's aunt.'

'Yes, you've just told me so,' he agreed.

'You knew it as soon as I made myself known to you!' She checked herself, determined not to lose her temper, and said, as pleasantly as she could: 'Come, Mr Calverleigh! let us be frank! I imagine you also know why I did make myself known to you. You certainly contrived to ingratiate yourself with my sister, but you can hardly have supposed that you would find all Fanny's relations so complaisant!'

He was watching her rather intently, but with an expression of enjoyment which she found infuriating. He said: 'No, I couldn't, could I? Still, if your sister likes me – !'

'My sister, Mr Calverleigh, was not aware, until I enlightened her, that you are not, as she had supposed, a man of character, but one of – of an unsavoury reputation!' she snapped.

'Well, what an unhandsome thing to have done!' he said

reproachfully. 'Doesn't she like me any more?'

Abby now made the discovery that it was possible, at one and the same time, to be furiously angry, and to have the greatest difficulty in suppressing an almost irresistible desire to burst out laughing. After a severe struggle, she managed to say: 'This – this is useless, sir! Let me assure you that you have no hope whatever of gaining the consent of Fanny's guardian to your proposal; and let me also tell you that she will not come into possession of her inheritance until she is five-and-twenty! That, I collect, is something you were not aware of!'

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'No,' he admitted. 'I wasn't!'

'Until that date,' Abby continued, 'her fortune is under the sole control of her guardian, and he, I must tell you, will not, under any circumstances, relinquish that control into the hands of her husband one moment before her twenty-fifth birthday, if she marries without his consent and approval. I think it doubtful, even, that he would continue to allow her to receive any part of the income accruing from her fortune. Not a very good bargain, sir, do you think?'

'It seems to be a very bad one. Who, by the way, is Fanny's guardian?'

'Her uncle, of course! Surely she must have told you so?' replied Abby impatiently.

'Well, no!' he said, still more apologetically. 'She really had no opportunity to do so!'

'Had no – Mr Calverleigh, are you asking me to believe that you – you embarked on this attempt to recover your own fortune without first discovering what were the exact terms of her father's will? That is coming it very much too strong!'

'Who was her father?' he interrupted, regarding her from under suddenly frowning brows. 'You talk of her inheritance – You don't mean to tell me she's Rowland Wendover's daughter?'

'Yes – if it should be necessary for me to do so – which I strongly doubt!' said Abby, eyeing him with hostility. 'She is an orphan, and the ward of my brother James.'

'Poor girl!' He studied her appraisingly. 'So you are a sister of Rowland Wendover! You know, I find that very hard to believe.'

'Indeed! It is nevertheless true – though in what way it concerns the point at issue –'