His Lady Mistress

72 His Lady Mistressunless she accepted Lord Blakehurst’s offer. She couldn’t!She didn’t dare...did she? Carefully she thought it over. Ifshe took some precautions, misled him a little about her intentions,he would never realise who she was. If he took her,she would be free. Even if they realised who she had goneto, they wouldn’t dare take her back, because to do so theywould have to admit who she was. The risk of scandal wouldbe too great.She would have to remain Selina Dering. With a queersense of foreboding, she realised that, to all intents and purposes,Verity would cease to exist. There would be only Selina.Max must never know the truth. Any of it.Straight after dinner Max excused himself, muttered somethingabout an early start and went up to his room. Not eventhe prospect of finding out what had caused the explosion offeminine hysteria shortly before dinner tempted him to remainfor longer than was absolutely required by the dictatesof courtesy.That Celia Faringdon had been at the centre of the outburstwas evidenced by the fact that she had not appeared at dinner.Lady Faringdon’s explanation of a sensitive and easily castdowntemperament, Max translated as spoiled brat who didn’tget her own way over something trivial.Once in his room, he rang the bell and when Harding arrived,said, ‘We’ll leave first thing. Have you packed?’Harding nodded. ‘Aye, sir. Everything’s ready. Will therebe aught else tonight?’Max shook his head, and then reconsidered. ‘On secondthoughts, send up a bottle of brandy, and then get an earlynight.’Harding hesitated. ‘Brandy, sir? You’ll have a devilishhead in the morning.’Earl Blakehurst raised his brows. ‘I beg your pardon, Sergeant?’