“To ‘Lucky D’Arcy’ – for he’s a jolly good fellow!”
Because she felt shy of intruding, Belinda waited.
Then a door on her left opened.
She saw a man who looked like a valet or a porter standing there.
Behind him was a bedroom where she imagined her stepfather must have been sleeping.
She moved to the doorway, saying as she did,
“May I speak to you for a moment?”
The man opened the door fully for her and Belinda walked into the room, far enough into the room to be able to speak without her voice being lost in the noise coming from the sitting room.
“I am the stepdaughter of Captain D’Arcy Rowland,” she explained, “and I would like to speak to him alone.”
The man, who was middle-aged, smiled.
“Then you be Miss Belinda Wyncombe!” he said. “I’ve ’eard the Cap’n speak of you. I looks
