It had been quite some five weeks earlier that Mr George Brede had entered the elegant environs of his club, and begun to walk the rooms with a certain diffident purposefulness. Any keen eyed observer could have deduced that he was looking for a particular someone, and,in fact, he hadn't had to search too long before cornering his quarry. This was a fair, rather wispy haired, solidly built man of about sixty, with a bland, sleepy expression and round blue eyes, peacefully pretending to read the newspaper in one of the comfortable fireside chairs. George dropped down into the chair next to him and coughed a little apologetically. His neighbor had turned rather drowsy eyes onto him and then, turned them back to his paper. "Hullo, George!"

"Hullo Julian. Not interrupting you, am I?"

Slowly folding and setting aside his newspaper, Colonel Julian Padstow assured him with polite and only mildly reproachful resignation that he was entirely at his disposal. They had idly discussed some mutual acquaintances, the chances of various horses in various races, and then George had remarked abruptly "You were out in India a while. Ever come across a fellah named Calverleigh?"

"Calverleigh? Prinked out young tulip. Gamester, unlucky too. Word is he's rolled up! Deep in dun territory."

"No, Julie!" George said impatiently. "India! His uncle! Family disowned him, sent him out there twenty years back?"

The colonel stroked his chin thoughtfully, his eyes closing for a moment. "You can't mean Miles Calverleigh?"

"That's what I said!"

"The nabob?"

"I don't know! Know him?"

"No." said his friend unhelpfully. "But I think I ran across him once. Tall, careless kind of cove?"

"Probably," admitted George. "I don't know. What's the on dit?"

Colonel Padstow knitted his brows in concentration for a moment before declaring. "Now he's full of juice! More than I'd like to say - not that you'd think it, scruffy, unexpected fellow if I remember right. But fly to the time of day all right. Needle witted, and wouldn't want to cross him by all accounts. Got the impression none too scrupulous either. Why d'you ask?"

"He's back in England. Bath. M'sister in law's struck up an acquaintance."

"Has she now?" His friend regarded him with interest. "She a downy one?"

"Usually awake on every suit! She's not keen no on the nephew."

"Queer nabs," agreed the other man. "The uncle's a different kettle of fish completely. Care-for-nobody!"

"Shouldn't mention anything to her?"

The colonel regarded him with some alarm, his blue eyes even rounder than usual. "Up to you of course, but I wouldn't stick my oar in! Not the type to take it kindly at all! Wouldn't meddle!"

Mr Brede had replied with some dignity that the thought had never crossed his mind. Which, to his credit, was mostly true. In any case, satisfied that a brother in law could do no more, he promptly forgot about it and thought no more on it until his wife had come running into the breakfast parlour, a newspaper in her hand. "Abby's married, George!"

"What?"

"It's right here, look!" She thrust the newspaper under his nose, pointing at the offending paragraph. "Mr Miles Calverleigh and Miss Abigail Wendover, married!"

Her husband looked up at her in some reproach. "You said it was just a hum!"

"I thought it was! They must have eloped! Oh George, James is going to be furious!"

Her husband unkindly replied that James could feel as he liked as long as he didn't come around there kicking up a dust. And in any case, there was nothing that he or anyone could do about it now. His wife sighed and agreed. "I wonder if Selina knew? I knew that Abby liked him, didn't I? I told you weeks ago that she was falling for him. And you said not to worry about it."

"Nothing you could do!" agreed George. "Could be worse, anyway. They say the fellow's rich as Croesus."

"How do you know that?" Mary stared at him with such sudden interrogative interest that he shrank and dutifully recounted his conversation with Colonel Padstow, adding "Dammit, Mary, it's none of our business! Abby's no fool, and if she wants to get married she can, she's twenty eight!"

"Well yes," admitted his wife, and sighed "I only hope James doesn't cause too much of a fuss."

Coincidentally, these were exactly the same words that Mrs Calverleigh articulated to her husband just over a week later, predicting - rather gloomily - that since her brother was in Bath it was doubtless only a matter of time before they were favoured with his presence. Her beloved merely laughed and said that he hoped so. This aggravating response could not go unanswered, and as a result they were slightly unprepared when his pious wish was granted that very morning.

Mr Wendover announced himself at a not entirely auspicious time; they had only just risen and Mr Calverleigh was at the breakfast table in his shirt sleeves, his wife ensconced on his knee, contentedly feeding him toast as he favoured her with interesting items from the morning's newspaper. At the knock on the door Abby rose, but Miles put a restraining hand on her leg. "No!" she scolded, kissing him lightly and shaking out her skirts as she got to her feet. There was a second, louder and more impatient knock and she called "Come in!" even as her husband playfully tried to pull her back to his lap.

Mr Wendover entered the room, and on glimpsing this interesting scene of domestic harmony, bridled like an angry turkey cock, closing the door behind him with a sharp click.

Taking a deep breath and smoothing down her gown, Abby took a few steps forward, holding out her hand and greeting her brother with pleasant equanimity. "Good morning, James! This is a surprise."

James regarded her in some resentment; "Good morning, Abigail! Although I doubt that my presence here can be entirely unexpected. I understand that Fanny informed you that Selina requested my presence. I'll also not deny that being compelled to visit Bath twice in a matter of weeks has been inconvenient, extremely inconvenient indeed, not that I expect you to care!"

"I didn't ask you to come," she pointed out, calmly. "It really was quite unnecessary, both times. I did write to you."

Her brother puffed up his chest, his voice frigid.

"You did, and I was unutterably shocked at what I read! To elope – and at your age - it is beyond all bounds of acceptable behaviour!"

"We didn't elope." The cool, amused voice came from behind her."I abducted her!"

James stiffened, his thin face reddening "I take it that you, sir, are Mr Miles Calverleigh!"

Miles rose and approached his wife, standing next to her as he casually examined her brother.

"And you must be James Wendover. How do you do? You are remarkably like your brother Rowland!"

"I shall take that as a compliment, although I collect it was not meant as one! Indeed sir, I don't hesitate to say that you appear to be exactly what your reputation led me to expect!"

"I'm gratified to be able to say the same of you!" he retorted, "Well, not gratified, exactly!"

Abby, seeing that the light of battle was roused in her husband's eye, attempted to intervene.

"Please, I cannot conceive why we should be standing around in this stupid way! James, won't you please sit down!"

"Thank you, Abigail, but I don't intend to stay long!"

"Well thank God for that!" murmured Miles, sotto voce and she shot him a quelling glance.

"Well, then since I assume that you have something to say to me, I will thank you to say your piece!"

"I will! Since – since you have not hesitated to embark on this – this - disastrous step, I have no compunction in informing you that from now on, you are cut off, disavowed from the family! You will no longer be permitted any contact with Fanny; Selina can of course do as she likes! She knows my views on the subject!"

"But James, I did hesitate! I turned Miles down, as Selina knows very well," said Abby, quite reasonably. "I had no idea that he was planning to take me away!"

James seemed to struggle rather with this information, finally saying, rather lamely "But you did marry him!"

"I really gave her no choice." Miles said cheerfully. "I knew that I wouldn't be able to persuade Abby - who had made up her mind to be idiotishly noble - so I took it out of her hands. I take full responsibility. You can't blame Abigail at all!"

"I – I wonder that you dare to admit it!"

"Why wouldn't I? I wanted to marry her and she wanted to marry me. She only refused me because you and your sister made her feel guilty for finally wanting to seek some happiness for herself. So I had no alternative but to be, I'll admit, somewhat high handed in the matter."

"It is precisely because we were concerned for my sister's happiness that we had such grave doubts about her marriage to you!" James retorted. "Doubts which appear to have been entirely justified! A man prepared to do such a thing, to behave with such a lack of scruples and propriety – to abduct a young woman of good family with no shame! - shows how little you appear to have changed in twenty years!"

Abby began to respond angrily but Miles only laughed. "I've never heard such damned pompous fustian in my life! I'll not make your sister unhappy, I can assure you of that at least. And in any case, her future is something Abby should be allowed to decide for herself! She's not a chit Fanny's age, she's nearly thirty!"

"Yet you admit to having given her no choice!"

Miles looked down at Abby, rubbing his chin ruefully "He's got me there."

Abby couldn't help it; she giggled and her husband grinned affectionately down at her. Her brother scowled with disfavour on the demoralised pair.

"All I can see is that my sister is so - so infatuated as to be entirely lost not only to propriety but all family feeling!"

"James, please don't!" begged Abby. "It may have been a – a little unorthodox but I can't regret marrying Miles. And I don't think there's any reason at all for you to fall into such a fuss, let alone prevent me from seeing Fanny! The only reason anyone will talk is if you cut me off –"

"Which is exactly my intention!" interrupted James.

"And it would be a mistake," observed Miles calmly. "For one, you and I both know that, as much as you may dislike our marriage, Abigail is now an extremely wealthy woman. Which means there'll be a damned lot more scandal if you fly into a stew! Scandal which, if you're as much like your father and brother as I remember, you'd do anything to avoid!"

James was spluttering now, looking from face to face. "I don't care how wealthy you are!"

"Even if you don't, everyone else will." Miles commented cynically. "Money goes a devil of a long way to rehabilitate even the worst reputation - which mine wasn't by any means! Which means that they'll go looking for another reason as to why you are so opposed to this frankly eligible match."

"No doubt they will find it in your person!" responded Mr Wendover, rallying a little, but flinched as his incensed sister took a few steps towards him before her shoulders were firmly grasped by her husband, her voice shaking with fury. "Oh! You are intolerable! How dare you say such a thing? You may be my brother but I will not stand by and allow you to insult my husband! And if that means you cut me off, I'm glad!"

"Don't say anything you'll regret, Abigail!" warned James in awful tones.

"The only thing I regret is letting you and Selina bullock me out of marrying Miles! Thank goodness he didn't listen!"

"Which is what I would expect from someone so obviously lost to all proper feeling!"

Miles, becoming bored of this scene, interrupted, placing his wife gently to one side, but retaining her hand.

"Come now, Wendover! Of course you can cut Abby off! By all means, I really don't care. But if you stop her from seeing Fanny, I should warn you that I'll have no compunction in explaining exactly why your family have such a dislike for the match, should anyone ask. Which I imagine they probably will."

"You mean – you mean – about Celia?"

"About Celia."

James staggered over to the sofa and sat down heavily, "You sir, are as much of a scoundrel as I was led to believe! You wouldn't do it!"

"I would. And if you upset my wife by forbidding her from her niece, I will."

James seemed to find the flat assertion convincing for he blustered furiously "That is blackmail, sir!"

"You might say so," Miles agreed, adding tranquilly "Of course, were you to show that you accepted your sister's perfectly unexceptional marriage with complaisance I doubt anyone would say anything at all, least of all myself."

Abby had been dumbfounded by this exchange, rooted to the spot.

James went a dark red and then white, his spare frame shaking with indignation. "Abigail, I – I cannot conceive why you consented to marry this – such a man! The whole affair is disgraceful – utterly disgraceful!"

"Hardly," objected Miles. "After all, I did marry her."

He ignored his wife's choke of sudden, shocked laughter, adding logically "If I hadn't I might see your point of view, but it's perfectly respectable! Never known such a lot to fly into a stew over nothing! It's damnably boring!"

"You have no morals – no – no shame at all! I will make it known exactly what kind of man you are!"

"According to you, that's common knowledge anyway," pointed out Miles. "Even though it isn't, and frankly even if it was I wouldn't care. The only thing I care about is Abby. I love her and that's the only reason I'm even humoring you!"

"Humoring?" Mr Wendover's eyes almost started from his head, his mouth opening and closing; for one of the first times in his life, he clearly had no idea what to say. "I could never – never accept – I will not accept this marriage!"

"I couldn't care less. But its what Abigail wants and I think you can. And you will." Miles remarked with the utmost calm. "Think it over. But until then, I'm going to continue with my breakfast."

James opened and closed his mouth a few times, then turned on his heel and staggered from the room, the door slamming behind him with a crash.

Miles looked after him for a long meditative moment then slowly returned to the breakfast table and sat down, tranquilly taking a sip of coffee.

His wife gazed at him in complete awe. "Miles!"

He looked at her and she saw the sparkle in his eye that was not laughter. "My dear, you look quite martial. Are you angry?"

"Yes," he admitted "Come here. You can calm me down."

"You were magnificent." She went to him and he pulled her onto his lap, resting his lips in her hair, folding his arms about her. She could feel the tension running through him, his muscles taut although he showed no outward sign of anger. A little tentatively she kissed his neck, and he relaxed, a chuckle vibrating his through him.

"Magnificent. Flummery! Widgeon."

His besotted spouse kissed him again, stroking his jaw admiringly. "You were. I've never seen James so lost for words!"

"He's a pompous lobcock," asserted her husband. "Just like his brother. But he won't cut you off, my love. As much as I wish he would."

"I don't think he will, after that. Goodness!" She rested her head on his shoulder. "Miles, you wouldn't, would you? Make it known about Celia, I mean?

Her champion looked down at her in affectionate exasperation, and kissing the top of her head, recommended that she pour him some more coffee. She complied, and wifely duties satisfactorily completed, turned to the eminently more pleasant task of coaxing her husband into good humour.