The Tyrant by Patricia Veryan Page A

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    Snuggling into bed, she sent Ada off for the night. She yearned to go to sleep at once, but as soon as she was alone she sat up again and began to read one of the marble-covered novels her papa so deplored, knowing that if Sinclair saw a light under her door, he would come in for a moment. Despite her efforts, she had fallen asleep sitting up when she felt the book gently slipped from her hands and found her brother bending over her.
    â€œOh, Sin,” she said, stretching sleepily. “Thank goodness. Dearest, you will take care and let me know what happens?”
    He sat on the side of the bed and yawned, stretching his legs out. “It has happened,” he said.
    Phoebe snatched the little clock from her bedside table. “Heavens! Twenty minutes until three o’clock! Sin, how is Lascelles? Were you able to move him?”
    He gave her a weary smile. “One at a time, old lady. When Carruthers and his mama— Lord, you should have heard her scold him! One might think him the world’s worst ogre to have heard her lamentations!”
    â€œWhat—with you in the room?” she gasped.
    â€œIn the adjoining room. But she made such a to-do, she must have known I could hear. That pretty brother of his had tried to bring her out of her pet whilst Carruthers was giving you your candle, but he soon lost all patience with her and went stamping off to bed. I’ll own I could scarce blame him. But when Carruthers came back, she properly flew out at him.”
    â€œShe is braver than I! I fancy he gave her one of his icy set-downs. Or did he rail at her? I’d not put it past him.”
    â€œHe was meek as a lamb. Agreed with everything she said.”
    â€œOh! Is there anything more horrid! One is left with nothing to say! Poor lady. Well, never mind that, tell me of our rebel.”
    â€œWe found him well enough. Had to walk, though, because Carruthers did not dare risk waking the grooms.”
    â€œPoor Sin. How very tired you must be. Is it very far?”
    â€œSeemed seven leagues to me, but Carruthers made nothing of it. I think the man is solid steel and don’t know such a word as ‘tired.’ At all events, between us we helped Lascelles to a little sort of hollow in the wall of this famous Cut. It’s devilish country, Phoebe. I’d never be able to find it again.”
    â€œWere you able to leave him in any kind of comfort?”
    â€œNot much, but he was grateful, poor fellow, and said it was better than many a hole he’s slept in. He told us he had spent most of one night up to his neck in water, when they’d set dogs on his trail.”
    â€œOh, poor man! How ghastly this is! One might think the war was not over at all. Do you think he will be safe there?”
    Sinclair gazed drowsily at his muddied boots. “Carruthers says he’ll likely be all right for a few days. As soon as Lascelles is able, he means to deliver his cipher. He’s half crazed with anxiety to be done with it.”
    â€œYes, he would be. He struck me as the steadfast type of man. Well, thank heaven he is not still in Surrey!”
    Sinclair nodded, and stood, but Phoebe called him back at the door to beg that he not take Jeffery Carruthers in violent aversion.
    â€œCan’t very well, since he’s my host,” he said. But he stuck his head around the door to add with a grin, “But he is a block, you know! Oh, by the bye, Carruthers means to take us on a ride about the estate in the morning. Early. Best get into your habit first thing.”
    â€œBut it’s morning now, ” wailed Phoebe.
    â€œThen be so kind as to let me to my bed, m’dear,” said her brother, and went away, muttering, “Gad, but I hope that dainty Jeffery don’t mean to ride with us.…”

V
    Sinclair’s aversion to Jeffery Carruthers had been heartily reciprocated. Jeffery had not the least intention of accompanying the riding party