"Yes," his lordship replied, "provided everyone sits still." He looked significantly at his brother.
True to his word. Raymore dispatched Sir Bernard Crawleigh back to the house at a run to reassure the ladies that all was well. Several of them were on the doorstep waiting when the search party finally emerged from the trees, Nigel walking disconsolately beside his brother, Sylvia being carried the last part of the way by Raymore.
It was decided that Nigel and Sylvia retire to their rooms immediately for a hot bath, a change into dry clothes, and a hot drink. Standen suggested that everyone else do likewise, since all had had a sleepless night.
"This afternoon we can find out exactly what happened," he said. "For now it is enough to know that both are safe."
Rosalind went into Sylvia's room a little later to see how she did. Her cousin was sitting up in bed drinking a cup of steaming milk while a maid emptied a bathtub that stood before a roaring fire.
"How are you, Sylvia?" Rosalind asked.
"It is so lovely to be warm," Sylvia replied. "I do believe I might escape without catching a chill, Ros."
"Was it deliberate?" Rosalind continued. "I mean, did you intend to get marooned?"
Her cousin hesitated. "I would have told you," she said, "but I did not want to put you in the position of having either to betray me or to protect me by lying. Cousin Edward did question you, did he not?"
"But why, Sylvie?" Rosalind persisted. "If you had changed your mind, why did you just not have the courage to tell Lord Standen so? Why involve poor Nigel?"
"Because if I had just broken the engagement, Nigel would have felt honor-bound to stay away from me," Sylvia said earnestly. "Please understand, Ros. We love each other."
"Are you quite sure, Rosalind asked. "What will you do this time when you fall out of love?"
"Oh, I shall not," her cousin assured her. "This is different, Ros. I had no idea of loving Nigel when I first met him. The feeling grew on me, you see. I know I cannot expect you to believe me, but time will tell. I shall love Nigel for ever and ever, I swear."
Rosalind squeezed her hand and took the empty cup from her. "Whatever the explanation," she said, "you have had a terrible ordeal. Go to sleep now."
The ordeal was not over for Sylvia. When she was summoned to the library in the late afternoon, she found that she had to face three grim-faced men. Raymore and Lord Standen stood facing the door, their backs to the fireplace. Nigel stood looking out of a window.
The Earl of Raymore spoke first. "Nigel has told us, Sylvia, that he suggested that boat ride so that you could have the best of the cool air and that the boat tipped in the choppy water."
"That is not so," she said, agitated, looking swiftly at Nigel's back. "It was I who suggested the boat ride, and I tipped the boat when I moved suddenly. I am truly sorry, Edward, that I caused such anxiety, but Nigel was entirely the gentleman. He was not in any way to blame."
"However it was," Raymore continued gravely, "the fact remains that you were alone for several hours with a man who is not your husband or your betrothed."
"Oh, but nothing happened," she assured them with wide, innocent eyes. "We merely tried to keep each other warm. We were so wet and cold, you see."
"Lady Marsh," Lord Standen said. His expression when she turned to him was wooden. "I deeply regret the fact that this happened when there are so many guests here as witnesses. Nigel has offered to do the honorable thing and marry you. I am forced to agree. I much regret having to do so, and I am sure that it will be painful to you to end our betrothal thus. However, I can assure you that my brother has a steady character and a competent income. He will be able to support you and will make you a good husband."
Sylvia hung her head.
"Well, what do you have to say?" Raymore asked a trifle impatiently.
She looked up at Standen. "I am sorry," she said. "This will cause you great embarrassment, my lord, and you have always been kind to me. I shall do what you consider right."
The tears in her eyes looked genuine enough, Raymore thought. Little minx!
"I should like to make my offer in private, please," Nigel said, his back still to the room.
"Of course," said Lord Standen. "Raymore?"
When the two men had left the room, Nigel turned to face her at last. His face was white and drawn; the tears in her eyes had begun to spill over onto her cheeks. They stood and looked at each other for a few moments, then rushed into each other's arms.
"I did a terrible thing, did I not?" she said a while later. "Is he hurt, do you think, Nigel?"
"Yes, at the moment," he said gently. "But remember, Sylvia, that he does not know that we love each other and really wish to marry. He could still have insisted on marrying you himself without causing any very great scandal. I have the deepest respect for my brother and believe him capable of love. But this time I do not believe his heart has been deeply touched. Honor and reputation mean more to him on this occasion."
"And do you truly wish to marry me?" she asked anxiously.
He looked down at her with a fond smile. "I am supposed to do the asking, remember?" he said.
"Oh," said Sylvia.
"Will you do me the great honor of marrying me, my love?" he asked, putting his forehead against hers.
She fingered the buttons on his jacket. "I shall always love you," she said quietly, "and I shall spend my life making it up to you for not really giving you a choice."
"Does that mean yes?"
"Yes."
He tilted his head and brought his lips down to cover hers. Soon she was being clasped very tightly in his arms. Her own arms were wrapped around his neck.
"It will have to be soon," he said breathlessly much later, "the wedding, I mean. George mentioned tomorrow. "
"Tomorrow!"
"Is it too soon?" he asked anxiously. "Perhaps you want more time to consider?"
"No, Nigel," she said. "I wish it might be today."
He kissed her again.
The wedding took place the following morning in the village church. Only the house guests were present. Both Nigel and Sylvia made an effort not to appear too radiant. For the sake of Lord Standen's pride, they had decided the day before, they must make it seem as if the marriage had been forced upon them to a certain extent.
The Earl of Raymore gave his ward away. He watched her closely during the ceremony. She was conducting herself very well, he thought. He had been very much afraid that she would be bubbling with excitement and reveal the truth to all the world. But she was putting on a very good act. She seemed almost subdued, and Broome looked about as solemn as the earl had ever seen him.
Raymore had not credited this particular ward with so much intelligence or courage. It must have been her plan. Broome would never have dreamed up an idea that was in many ways quite shady and dishonorable. Little minx! The earl found himself feeling unexpectedly amused. He should be furiously angry, but he had to admit it was a pleasant surprise to find that Sylvia was not just a milk-and-water miss. He wished them happiness.
When he sat down, his own part in the ceremony complete, Raymore was very aware of Rosalind beside him. Crawleigh was at her other side. He found himself dreaming of saying the words of the ceremony with her. It would be good to be standing there with her, to lead her outside afterward and drive away with her. She would be his. He would take her away, far away from any people they both knew, and show her all the beauties of Europe. She would appreciate all the art treasures that he had gazed at in wonder on his own grand tour as a younger man. It would be such a pleasure to show them to her, to see that look of animation and true delight that he had seen so rarely. It would be good to share jokes with her, like the one they had briefly enjoyed at the dinner table when he had hinted that they might listen unseen to Hans Dehnert practicing for his concert. It would be good to have the right to touch her and love her whenever he wished.