Maggie MacKeever by Lady Bliss

Miss Lennox reflected that her Aunt Eulalia, in those countless discourses on the evils of fortune hunters, had failed to mention the fact that to be pursued by such could be extremely diverting. “It will not serve. Try as you may, you will not, as I have already told you several times, induce me to act indiscreetly.”
    “I hesitate to point this out,” countered Innis, without the least hesitation at all, “but you have already done so in coming here. What would Viscount Roxbury say, I wonder, if he knew the character of his intended was so very loose?”
    “Viscount Roxbury,” retorted Jynx, though with her dimpled grin, “is already familiar with all the facets of my character. And my indiscretion, as you call it, was prompted by the most worthy of sentiments—which you must admit would hardly be the case had it been inspired by yourself.”
    “Viscount Roxbury is a lucky man,” Innis interrupted. He spoke, which was unusual for him, the simple truth. “Would that I could be! I realize I’ve made a botch of it already, Miss Lennox, and have insulted you greatly, as well as having given you a most unfavorable opinion of myself. Won’t you forgive me all that, and allow me to begin over again?”
    Miss Lennox contemplated her newest admirer, whose candid countenance was completely free of guile. “Generously said,” she approved, “and the answer is no. We’ve kept poor Percy’s horses standing entirely too long, and I’ve grown most anxious to see Cristin. Therefore, if you please?”
    Innis did not please; Innis was discovering that his quarry’s disfavor added a certain zest to the pursuit; but just then Cristin herself burst into the room. “Oh, Jynx!” she wailed, and flung herself upon Miss Lennox’s breast, and dissolved promptly into tears. No more than Innis did Miss Lennox appear to appreciate the tendency of the female Ashleys toward excessive sentimentality. She winced as Cristin gripped her even more firmly, and dislodged her hat, and wept all over her muslin gown.
    Innis made no effort to aid Miss Lennox in her predicament, but met her speaking glance with a wicked grin. Gaining access to the Lennox fortune, he mused, was going to be a most pleasurable pastime. “Say that you forgive me,” he offered, “and I will leap to your assistance, Miss Lennox!”
    “Oh, very well!” agreed Jynx, who was half-smothered by her little friend’s exuberance. “I forgive you.”
    In this case, at least, Innis proved as good as his word. Cristin’s deathlock grip was broken, and she was gently reprimanded for her behavior, and at that point, as Cristin was proffering abject apologies of her own, Lord Peverell entered the drawing room.
    “Jynx!” Percy was obviously in a state of great perspiration. “My horses!” And then his gaze fell upon Cristin, and his mouth dropped open, and he stared thunderstruck.
    “Now I suppose I must thank you for this development,” Jynx remarked to her savior, as she straightened her abused hat. “If I did not see that it must be impossible, I would swear you contrived the whole thing.”
    “I might have, had I thought of it.” Innis contemplated the doting fashion in which his niece was being regarded by the gullible Lord Peverell. It was a sentiment, judging from Cristin’s equally besotted expression, that his niece appeared to share. Then his gaze moved to Miss Lennox, whose piquant features were, alas, totally devoid of any similar emotion. “I might be of even greater benefit to you, if only you would allow me to be.”
    Even a lady so unappreciative of ardor as Jynx could hardly fail to understand the veiled meaning in those words. “I do wish you’d stop carping on that subject!” she complained, and rose. “How many times must I tell you, Mr. Ashley, that you will not lead me into an affair of gallantry?”
    “You may tell me as many times as you wish, and I shall listen to you with pleasure, and I will remain unconvinced.” Innis took her