Winterwood by Dorothy Eden Page A

funny?
    “No, he wasn’t supposed to be out,” Lavinia said coolly. “Thank you for bringing him back. I’m afraid I don’t know who you are.”
    “Oh, he’s Mr. Peate,” Flora put in. “He’s a relation of Great-aunt Tameson’s.”
    “Jonathon Peate,” the man amplified. “A nephew of the Contessa. And, you neglected to say, Miss Flora, a friend of yours.” In an exaggerated gesture which made Flora wince, he lifted her hand and kissed it. “Ma’am! Your servant Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new companion?”
    His gaze was raking her again, and unaccountably, Lavinia was nervous. She believed he was just one of those too familiar and breezy men whom she had occasionally encountered among Robin’s friends. Yet there was a sharpness in his look that could have suggested more than mere admiration.
    “She’s Miss Hurst,” Flora said offhandedly. “Did Edward invite you to visit us, Mr. Peate?”
    “How do you do, Miss Hurst?” The man bowed, then said in a loud jovial voice which no doubt he thought appealed to children, “I have just rescued your small brother, Miss Flora. I must say you don’t seem very grateful.”
    “Mamma and Papa are out.”
    “Then can’t I have a short visit with you? Miss Hurst, will you be so unwelcoming as our small invalid?”
    “I am not an invalid!” Flora said between her teeth.
    “Oh, sorry, sorry. I quite realize that. You have very sensitive toes, princess.”
    “Toes?” Flora said coldly.
    “I seem to tread on them rather often. I hope Miss Hurst will be more charitable toward my clumsiness.” He was laughing softly now as if his amusement couldn’t be held back any longer. “After all, I believe I have done you a good turn, Miss Hurst, in bringing back young Edward. It would have been bad luck to have been hauled over the coals on your first day.”
    “How do you know that it is my first day?”
    “Deduction, my dear young lady. You were not here yesterday. I wish you well with these charming little imps of Satan.”
    Lavinia made no answer. She had already decided that she disliked Mr. Jonathon Peate intensely, although she had to admit he had a certain virile attractiveness. He hardly seemed the kind of friend Charlotte and Daniel would have, yet he was behaving with great familiarity. Indeed, he was quizzing her again with that slightly disturbing intentness. She supposed he was the kind of man who would not think someone in her position worthy of the best manners.
    Flora’s outspokenness matched their visitor’s.
    “How long are you staying, Mr. Peate? You were not invited.”
    “Pardon me, princess.” Mr. Peate bowed with a great flourish. “Then I must leave. I merely thought your papa or your mamma might be in.”
    “They’re not. And don’t call me ‘princess.’”
    “Flora!” Lavinia felt she had to make a halfhearted protest, even though she secretly approved of the child’s rudeness. But Mr. Peate merely seemed amused by it. He gave his merry laugh and said that he would have to call again.
    “I shall look forward to improving our acquaintance, Miss Hurst.”
    He was still laughing softly as he left.
    “Isn’t he abominable?” said Flora intensely. “He always calls me ‘princess’ and behaves like that just because he sees it makes me angry. I can’t think why Mamma and Papa have him here.”
    “Why do they?” Lavinia asked.
    “He’s a cousin of Mamma’s, though she had never met him. They have both come to see Great-aunt Tameson, so of course they have to be friends. I am sure Papa doesn’t like him.”
    “And your mother?”
    “Oh, she says family things are important. I don’t agree at all. When I am grown-up I shall certainly refuse to speak to Edward.”
    This made Edward, who, as well as his gift for detaching himself from conversations in which he wasn’t interested, had a sharp ear for ones that concerned him, spring up and come over to Flora’s chair.
    “Won’t you even say good