Regency Buck by Georgette Heyer Read Free Book Online Page A

be glad to shake hands with the fellow; might even, if Judith was agreeable, invite him to dine with them.
    The gentleman was approaching them, upon the same side of the road. It was evident that he had recognized them; he looked a little conscious, but did not seem to wish to stop. As he drew nearer he raised his hat and bowed slightly, and would have passed on if Peregrine, dropping his sister’s arm, had not stood in the way.
    “I beg pardon,” Peregrine said, “but I think you are the gentleman who was so obliging to us on Friday?”
    The other bowed again, and murmured something about it being of no moment.
    “But it was of great moment to us, sir,” Judith said. “I am afraid we thanked you rather curtly, and you may have thought us very uncivil.”
    He raised his eyes to her face, and said earnestly: “No, indeed not, ma’am. I was happy to be of service; it was nothing to me: I might command a lodging elsewhere. I beg you won’t think of it again.”
    He would have passed on, and seeing him so anxious to be gone Miss Taverner made no further effort to detain him. But Peregrine was less perceptive, and still barred the way. “Well, I’m glad to have met you again, sir. Say what you will, I am in your debt. My name is Taverner—Peregrine Taverner. This is my sister, as perhaps you know.”
    The gentleman hesitated for an instant. Then he said in rather a low voice: “I did know. That is to say, I heard your name mentioned.”
    “Ay, did you so? I daresay you might. But we did not hear yours, sir,” said Peregrine, laughing.
    “No, I was unwilling to—I did not wish to thrust myself upon your notice,” said the other. A smile crept into his eyes; he said a little ruefully: “My name is also Taverner.”
    “Good God!” cried Peregrine in great astonishment. “You don’t mean—you are not related to us, are you?”
    “I am afraid I am,” said Mr. Taverner. “My father is Admiral Taverner.”
    “Well, by all that’s famous!” exclaimed Peregrine. “I never knew he had a son!”
    Judith had listened with mixed feelings. She was amazed, at once delighted to find that she had so unexpectedly amiable a relative, and sorry that he should be the son of a man her father had mistrusted so wholeheartedly. His modesty, the delicacy with which he had refrained from instantly making himself known to them, his manners, which were extremely engaging, outweighed the rest. She held her hand out to him, saying in a friendly way: “Then we are cousins, and should know each other better.”
    He bowed over her fingers. “You are very good. I have wished to speak to you, but the disagreements—the estrangement, rather, between your father and mine made me diffident.”
    “Oh well, there’s no reason why that should concern us!” said Peregrine, brushing it aside with an airy gesture. “I daresay my uncle is as hasty as my father was, eh, Judith?”
    She could not assent to it; he should not be speaking of their father in that fashion to one who was quite a stranger to them.
    Mr. Taverner seemed to feel it also. He said: “I believe there were grave faults, but we can hardly judge—I certainly must not. You will understand—it is difficult for me.—But I have already said too much.”
    He addressed himself more particularly to Judith. She fancied there was a faint bitterness in the way he spoke. She found herself more than ever disposed to like him. His manner indicated—or so she thought—that he was aware of some behaviour on his father’s part which he could not approve. She respected him for his reticence; he seemed to feel just as he ought. It was with pleasure that she heard Peregrine invite him to dine with them.
    He was obliged to excuse himself: he was engaged with his friends; he wished it had been in his power to accept.
    He was obviously sincere; he looked disconsolate. For her part Judith was sadly disappointed, but she would neither press him, nor permit Peregrine to do so.
    Mr. Taverner