Part 42 (1/2)
”They are in their own stalls by this time, my lady. I took care of that.”
”Then it was all a trick to carry me off against my will!” she cried, with growing indignation.
”Hardly against your will, my lady,” said Malcolm, embarra.s.sed and thoughtful, in a tone deprecating and apologetic.
”Utterly against my will!” insisted Florimel. ”Could I ever have consented to go to sea with a boatful of men, and not a woman on board? You have disgraced me, Malcolm.”
Between anger and annoyance she was on the point of crying.
”It's not so bad as that, my lady.--Here, Rose!”
At his word, Rose appeared.
”I've brought one of Lady Bellair's maids for your service, my lady,” Malcolm went on. ”She will do the best she can to wait on you.”
Florimel gave her a look.
”I don't remember you,” she said.
”No, my lady. I was in the kitchen.”
”Then you can't be of much use to me.”
”A willing heart goes a long way, my lady,” said Rose, prettily.
”That is fine,” returned Florimel, rather pleased. ”Can you get me some tea?”
”Yes, my lady.”
Florimel turned, and, much to Malcolm's content vouchsafing him not a word more, went below.
Presently a little silver lamp appeared in the roof of the cabin, and in a few minutes Davy came, carrying the tea tray, and followed by Rose with the teapot. As soon as they were alone, Florimel began to question Rose; but the girl soon satisfied her that she knew little or nothing.
When Florimel pressed her how she could go she knew not where at the desire of a fellow servant, she gave such confused and apparently contradictory answers, that Florimel began to think ill of both her and Malcolm, and to feel more uncomfortable and indignant; and the more she dwelt upon Malcolm's presumption, and speculated as to his possible design in it, she grew the angrier.
She went again on deck. By this time she was in a pa.s.sion--little mollified by the sense of her helplessness.
”MacPhail,” she said, laying the restraint of dignified utterance upon her words, ”I desire you to give me a good reason for your most unaccountable behaviour. Where are you taking me?”
”To Lossie House, my lady.”
”Indeed!” she returned with scornful and contemptuous surprise. ”Then I order you to change your course at once and return to London.”
”I cannot, my lady.”
”Cannot! Whose orders but mine are you under, pray?”
”Your father's, my lady.”
”I have heard more than enough of that unfortunate--statement, and the measureless a.s.sumptions founded on it. I shall heed it no longer.”
”I am only doing my best to take care of you, my lady, as I promised him. You will know it one day if you will but trust me.”