Page 127

“Lord Cranford is still speaking with Sir Lionel. I shall find some reason to separate them so dinner is not delayed,” Judith remarked.

“Will that be difficult?”

“Not particularly. My uncle has been trying to escape the conversation for ten minutes.”

She crossed the room before he could prolong the exchange.

Baines watched her approach Sir Lionel, speak a few words and gesture towards the hall. Her uncle looked relieved enough to embrace her, although he contented himself with excusing himself from Cranford and following his niece from the room.

Manners reappeared beside Baines. “You have that expression again.”

“What expression?”

“The one suggesting you would cheerfully abandon your commission if Miss Finch would but remain by your side.”

Baines turned sharply.

Manners looked delighted.

Before Baines could formulate a sufficiently insulting response, however, Renforth approached Lord Cranford.

The nobleman, in a richly embroidered waistcoat, stood beside the fireplace, his broad face flushed from the warmth of the room and his recent argument with Sir Lionel. He possessed an imposing manner that might have inspired confidence had it not been accompanied by an unfortunate tendency to regard every disagreement as evidence of another person’s ignorance.

“Good evening, Cranford. Might I have a word?” Renforth asked.

“Certainly, Colonel. I was just explaining to Finch that the government has been far too lenient with these agitators.”

“I should be interested to hear your opinion.”

Cranford brightened considerably. “Of course. Good man.”

Renforth offered him a glass of sherry and guided him towards the recess beside the tall windows, where a heavy curtain and an arrangement of flowering branches provided a measure of privacy from the other guests.

Baines knew the Colonel would now introduce the most provocative of the three confidences.

Renforth intended to tell Cranford that evidence had emerged implicating someone closely connected with his household. He would suggest that the individual had been overheard discussing matters which had subsequently appeared in radical correspondence, and that the authorities hoped to question him discreetly before any formal accusation became necessary.

If Cranford asked who, Renforth would decline to answer.

If Cranford knew nothing, the confidence might provoke nothing more than indignation. If he knew something, however, he might attempt to warn the man concerned.

Baines watched Cranford’s expression as Renforth spoke.

At first, the nobleman appeared merely interested. Then his brows drew together, and he leaned forward with an intensity quite unlike his earlier bluster and asked a question.

Renforth answered.

Cranford’s face reddened.

For a moment, Baines feared the man would raise his voice and announce the entire conversation to the room, but Renforth lifted one hand in a calming gesture.

Cranford drew a breath and looked towards the servants’ entrance.

Then the nobleman returned his attention to Renforth and spoke at considerable length, punctuating his remarks with an emphatic movement of his forefinger.

When the conversation ended, Cranford appeared offended rather than frightened.

He crossed the drawing room, accepted another glass of wine and began speaking to Sir George with unusual animation.