An Unlikely Father (19 page)

Delia Keaton sat on the ledge of the water fountain in the knot garden watching the remaining frogs, those who had not been large enough to escape the confines of the stone pool, swim and frolic in the water. Despite the creatures’ playful antics, her thoughts were still on Emily and what she intended to do about Joshua Collins. The interview between the pair seemed to be lasting a very long time.

Looking up, she spied Sir Ethan coming from the castle towards her. Her heart danced with excitement; then she reminded herself that hers hadn’t been a happy union. Why would she even consider taking such a step again, especially when Emily needed her?

“Good morning, my dear.” The gentleman came and stood beside her a moment, his auburn hair looking nearly red in the morning sunlight. She gestured for him to be seated beside her on the stone ledge.

“Good morning, sir.” She returned her gaze to the pool.

“What has put that frown upon your bonny face, my dear?”

Embarrassed to tell the gentleman of her thoughts of him, she avoided his intense gaze by looking out over the landscape. “I am much worried about Emily. I fear I have put her in a rather uncomfortable situation.”

“How so?”

The lady twisted her handkerchief between her fingers. “I fear I was the one who informed the Collinses of Emily’s return to England and her present location.”

The baronet was quiet for a moment, then gave a soft chuckle. “Did you think to protect the lovely Miss Collins from the notorious rake?”

Delia nodded her head, but couldn’t bring herself to look at the gentleman. He was the earl’s friend and would despise her for what she had done. But to her surprise, his strong hand reached over and grasped one of hers. A shock raced up her arm, but she allowed him to take her hand between his, even as she felt the blood pound in her ears.

“Normally I would say that would have been a wise decision, considering the lady’s innocence and the gentleman’s reputation, but Miss Emily Collins is special. She has touched something in Oliver that I was not certain existed.”

Delia’s shy gaze looked into the baronet’s eyes. The feel of his warm hand on hers was making it difficult for her to think. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that Oliver Carson has fallen in love with the fair lass.” He smiled at her, sensing that his words surprised her.

“Are you certain? Did he tell you he is in love with her?” Delia’s fingers clutched at his hand.

“He has said nothing, but I have known him for many years. I think that from the moment you ladies arrived, I sensed Miss Collins had gotten under his skin as no woman ever had. But the night he told me he would never marry Lady Cora despite the countess’s wishes, I was certain that your friend was the reason. I’m not sure he’d even realized it himself until the picnic. Did you not see the look on his face when we returned to the castle? I am certain the lass has stolen his heart.” There had been an intensity about the earl that day which Delia had never seen before, but she had thought it had to do with Lady Cora and her display of temper beside the lake. Was it possible that all her worries were for naught?

At that moment a footfall on the gravel drew her attention. She looked up to see Emily coming towards her, and the look on her face sent a chill deep into Delia’s soul.

The lady came to a halt before the couple as Sir Ethan politely rose. “Pray, forgive me for interrupting your conversation with Delia, sir, but I wished to inform her that I have instructed the servants to pack our belongings. We are for London today.”

The announcement surprised the pair, and they exchanged a puzzled glance. Delia knew Emily well and saw some deep emotion just below the surface of the lady’s mood, but the widow instinctively sensed not to probe too much at present.

“You are leaving? Have you told Oliver?” The baronet looked from one lady to the other, his auburn brows drawn into a flat line of worry.

“Yes, I have just come from speaking with the
...
gentleman.” There was a catch in the lady’s voice, but she continued as if nothing unusual had occurred. “I fear I mustn’t linger in Somerset a moment longer. But I do hope you will visit us once you are back in London, sir. We shall lodge several weeks at Grillon’s while my solicitor makes arrangements for the purchase of a residence in Town.”

Sir Ethan knew something had occurred, but he didn’t have a notion what had the lady so upset. His gaze at last settled on the lovely Delia, and he said, “I shall gladly pay a visit at the first opportunity.”

Delia blushed, but Emily seemed little in the mood for conversation. “Come, my dear, we must be away before nuncheon.” With that Emily turned and hurried back towards the castle.

Delia offered Sir Ethan a hurried good-bye and followed her mistress.

Sir Ethan again sat on the fountain ledge, his mind searching for answers to the ladies’ sudden departure. Something was afoot and he wondered what it could be. He was certain Oliver loved Emily, and the lady had shown signs of being smitten as well. Clearly something had interfered with the course of their romance. Had it been the countess and her ambitious matchmaking who’d caused a problem? Or perhaps the controlling Mr. Collins in his attempt to get Emily under his thumb?

The baronet didn’t know who was the source of the interference, but he intended to set things right as much for Oliver as for himself. He knew Delia Keaton was important to him, and she would never be happy as long as Emily was miserable. Regardless of the lady’s attempt at normality, he’d seen the pain in those amber eyes.

It occurred to Sir Ethan that if the ladies were leaving, then so would the Collinses. He was determined to find the truth, so he must have an interview with Joshua Collins before the gentleman departed.

The baronet’s face was intense with purpose as he strode back to the castle. He gave a harsh laugh as it suddenly occurred to him that there was a certain irony to the fact that he was attempting to play Cupid when he’d failed so miserably at love himself so many years before. But when his thoughts turned to Delia, he knew that what he felt for her was far different from his momentary infatuation with his late wife. He pushed such thoughts aside. For now he must concentrate on putting Oliver and Emily’s fate first.

Twelve

Some two weeks passed without Mrs. Keaton and Miss Collins hearing news from anyone who’d been at Hawk’s Lair at the time of their sudden departure. Presently ensconced in comfortable rooms at Grillon’s on Albemarle Street in London, they were busy making preparations for their entry into Society with visits to modistes, hatmakers and bootmakers.

Yet still they’d not ventured forth to join in the nightly revelry of the Beau Monde. Emily always seemed to have some excuse or the other which kept them from going to the opera or a play, but Delia was certain she knew the true reason. Her friend was suffering from a broken heart.

The widow was still much in the dark about what had happened that final day at the castle, since Emily refused to speak of the incident or the earl. But Delia was not fooled into believing that it was because her employer did not care for the gentleman. At times she would catch Emily with such a look of pain on her face that it wrenched the heart, only Delia was at a loss as how to help her friend, since she didn’t know what was wrong.

That morning they’d risen late and were lingering over coffee in the sitting room when a knock sounded at their door. Swarup stepped in to announce, “Sir Ethan Russell,
memsahib.
Are you in to visitors?”

Emily smiled at her friend as the widow tried to appear unaffected by the news, but Delia’s eyes held a delighted glitter. “Yes, Swarup, show him up.”

Within minutes the baronet strode into the room, looking handsome in his russet-brown morning coat over a tan striped waistcoat and tan pantaloons. “Good morning, Miss Collins, Mrs. Keaton. How I have missed seeing your bonny faces since you left us in Somerset.” Delia flushed pink, taking an unusual interest in the pattern of the tablecloth, as Emily rose and extended her hand to the gentleman. “We are happy to see you, sir.” She hesitated but a moment, then in a small voice asked, “I hope you left all well at the castle?”

Sir Ethan, his mood buoyant, lifted the lady’s hand and gallantly kissed it, but his bold gaze never deviated from Mrs. Keaton. “In truth, Miss Collins, I left no one at the castle save the servants.”

Emily’s brows rose in surprise. “His lordship has brought the children to Town?”

Straightening the gentleman grinned. “Why, no. In truth, ’twas their father who brought them.”

Emily and Delia exchanged an elated glance at the wonderful news. The widow rose and came to rest her hand on the baronet’s arm. “You mean Mr. Carson is alive and returned to England?”

“I do. He arrived from Plymouth some three nights ago, looking surprisingly hearty considering his near
-
fatal illness, but I would suppose several months of sea air restored his health.”

Emily sighed with pleasure. “That
is
wonderful news, but why has he come to London so soon?”

“The earl, the countess—why, the whole family is returned to Town. Mr. Carson had business, but he wishes to meet you kind ladies and thank you for all you did for his children.”

A look somewhere between reluctance and longing settled into Emily’s amber eyes before she turned and walked to the window. “The gentleman is welcome to call at any time, Sir Ethan. We look forward to making his acquaintance.”

The baronet watched Emily for a moment, then smiled as if he’d seen something that pleased him. “Well, I am certain he will write to you from Hawksworth House to request an interview once he has the children situated comfortably and his more pressing business affairs attended to.”

The lady nodded her head but made no comment, returning her gaze to the traffic in the busy street.

“But I have come this morning on my own behalf to invite you bonny lasses to go for a drive in the park. ’Tis a fine day, and I have my barouche and coachman waiting.”

Emily looked over her shoulder to see the look of suppressed excitement in Delia’s eyes. But Emily couldn’t face going out knowing the earl was once again in Town. “My dear, I insist that you go and take the air with Sir Ethan. I must stay and write a letter to my solicitor, for he is requesting that I make a decision on several financial matters.”

When the widow looked as if she would decline, Sir Ethan took her hand and leaned in close to whisper, “Pray, do not say no, my dear. There are several urgent matters I would speak to you of in private.” He then directed his gaze to where Emily stood, and Delia knew at once that the matter concerned the earl and her unhappy employer.

The lady agreed and went to retrieve her bonnet and cape. Some minutes later, as the barouche edged into traffic on Albemarle Street, Delia eagerly asked, “What have you learned, sir?” In her anxiety to hear news, she placed her gloved hand on his arm.

Sir Ethan covered her hand with his as he smiled down at her beautiful face. “My love, I have learned a great deal. I have every hope that the affair can be set to right. But there is a pressing matter we must settle.” Despite the open carriage and the risk of scandal, he leaned over and kissed her willing lips. Her eager response made him smile as he drew away from her. “I adore you, my bonny Delia. Since you left Hawk’s Lair, I have been unaccountably lonely. Will you make an old Scotsman happy by becoming his fair bride?”

Delia blushed but gazed back into the green eyes with devotion. “I dearly love you, my fine sir, but I cannot leave Emily so unhappy. First you must tell me what occurred at Hawk’s Lair to make her so and how you came to learn of it.”

Sir Ethan quickly informed the lady that on the day of their departure he’d learned nothing from the earl, but suspecting Mr. Joshua Collins of having had a hand in whatever had happened, he’d confronted the gentleman.

“It seems Mr. Roland Collins claims to have overheard a conversation in which Oliver plotted to ask Emily to marry him for her money, and so Mr. Collins repeated the conversation to your friend.”

Delia looked shocked. As she withdrew her hand from underneath Sir Ethan’s, the gentleman quirked one
auburn brow at her. “Now, don’t be giving me one of those looks, my love. The story was mostly a hum.”

“Mostly.”

“Oliver was head over heels in love with our Miss Collins long before he knew about the lady’s inheritance from her uncle. Oliver only mentioned the lady’s fortune to his grandmother to smooth that lady’s ire at having lost Lady Cora’s wealth. Believe me, Oliver cares little what Society thinks. Having fallen in love, he would have married your friend had she proven to be the governess he first thought her.”

Delia smiled. “Then what shall we do to bring them together? Shall I tell her the truth of the matter?”

“I think not, for there would always be doubts. We must come up with a plan.” With that the two put their heads together and began to consider how best to bring the misunderstanding to an end. At last they decided to enlist the aid of the countess, and Sir Ethan called to his coachman to return to Hawksworth House.

Back at Grillon’s, Emily had watched the barouche disappear from sight with a mixture of happiness for her friend and a heavy heart that her own hopes had been dashed so cruelly. But she didn’t want to think about the earl, for it hurt too much.

Certain that Sir Ethan had come to propose to her friend, Emily began to ponder what she would do for a companion after the pair wed. Propriety demanded that a single lady like herself must have a chaperon. All the single females she knew were still in Calcutta, save her cousin Bettina, but to ask that young lady to live with her would require that she reestablish contact with her uncle, and that she would not do. The simplest solution would be to hire a companion.

To Emily’s surprise, Swarup was again at the door to announce a visitor. “There is a Mrs. Logan to see you,
memsahib
.”

Puzzled as to who had arrived, but happy to be distracted from her dark thoughts, she asked her servant to show the lady up. To her amazement, the sitting room door opened some minutes later to reveal her cousin Bettina, still plump but looking modish in a new traveling gown with matching bonnet topped by a yellow plume. The smile on her radiant face made her appear quite handsome.

The lady advanced across the room and took Emily’s hands. “My dear cousin, I had to come to thank you and the earl for all you have done for me and my Darnell. I was certain when I begged the earl to protect you that I had chosen the right gentleman.”

Emily was stunned. Here was her cousin, yet this seemed a different person from the downtrodden young woman in Somerset. This lady was babbling on in such a strange manner and full of the earl’s praises, which puzzled Emily even more. “Cousin, I am most happy to see you, but I must own I don’t understand what has you in such alt.”

“Did the earl not tell you?”

Emily looked down at the floor. “I have not spoken to his lordship since I left Hawk’s Lair.”

“His solicitor found my dear curate. Not only that, but the earl has offered him the living at the local parish in Somerset. Is that not wonderful?”

Emily’s head was reeling. “I fear I am somewhat at a loss. Who is this curate?”

“My husband—Darnell. We were married by special license last week, and my father is furious.” Bettina laughed with glee.

“I wish you joy, Cousin. But when did you ask the earl to protect me? And what had the earl to do with your marriage?”

Her cousin at last took note of Emily’s somber mood. Taking her by the hand, she led her to the sofa. “I begin to think that my father created some mischief between you and the earl, which is a great pity, for I never saw a man more in love than Lord Hawksworth when we had our tryst in the Long Gallery.”

Emily stared at her cousin as if she’d just escaped from Bedlam.

Bettina laughed. “Sit down, my dear. I have a great many things to tell you.”

Some thirty minutes later, after the departure of Mrs. Logan, Emily sat with her mind in a whirl. The earl had truly loved her long before he knew of her inheritance! Bettina had been the one to tell him she was an heiress after he’d announced his wish to marry her. Foolishly, she’d listened to her uncle and ruined, perhaps forever, her chance to wed the man she loved.

Could Oliver forgive her? He was a proud man, and she’d done all in her power to prick that pride in the library that day. Yet even as she wondered about the earl’s forgiveness, she knew that doubts still lingered about the conversation her cousin had overheard.

Emily suspected that too much damage had been done for them to ever come together. She gave a deep sigh. She’d spent the last two weeks trying to put the earl from her mind. For her own sake, she must not begin to engage in fanciful dreams about what might have been. With that thought, she put aside her personal affairs and drew a paper and pen to her to write her solicitor.

Oliver moved the buttered eggs around on his plate with little interest in eating them. He’d had no appetite since Emily had left, but he pushed the painful thoughts of her from his mind. He had to get past the loss of the woman he loved. Without warning, he straightened and announced to all present, “I have decided we must go to Yorkshire on the morrow.”

The countess and James, seated across from one another, exchanged a look of anxiety. Lady Hawksworth laid her napkin on the table. “Oliver, James has just returned to town after an absence of nearly ten years. Let the man at least enjoy himself a bit. Why do you not introduce him to some of your friends?”

The earl looked up at his grandmother. “My brother is not a stranger, madam. He has friends from before he went to the Indies. Besides, I’m not in the mood for going about in company.”

The countess rolled her eyes at James as if to say “do something.” The younger man, having been told of his brother’s failed romance and of his grandmother’s plan to bring about a meeting of the two, said, “Oliver, I spoke with your solicitor yesterday, as you requested, and he was preparing several more documents for you to sign for the transfer of Hawkland Manor to me. Could we not remain a few more days, until all is complete? I know I have said this before, but I cannot thank you enough—”

Oliver raised his hand. “There is no need, James. I have intended the estate in Yorkshire for you since you were one-and-twenty. I am merely anxious to see the children settled into their new home.”

James gave a half smile as he stared down at his plate. “ ’Tis unfortunate that I was too proud so long ago to accept such a generous offer.”

The earl rose, his face a grim mask. “Do not fret about the past. We are all older and wiser, dear brother. Now you must excuse me—I have business to attend to.”

As the door closed behind the earl, Lady Hawksworth ordered, “You must send your invitation to Emily Collins at once. Time is running out.”

James sighed. “I cannot like interfering in my brother’s affairs, Grandmother.”

“Oh, fie, what does that matter when you will only be helping him? What you must do is make some excuse for not being able to come to her.” The lady paused, and when her grandson made no move, she gestured with her hand. “Hurry, my boy, before your brother again takes some notion in his head to leave today.”

James went to do as he was bidden, praying that Oliver would forgive him for such an impertinence.

The following morning, Emily found herself with only her newly hired maid, Ruth, on her way to Park Lane to meet Mr. Carson. It would not have been her choice to go to Hawksworth House, but matters had conspired to make the earl’s residence the best place for the meeting due to Delia having come down with some strange illness which seemed to come and go at random and Mr. Carson begging her indulgence by having her come to him and the children.

Dressed in her new pale-green sprig-muslin gown with a dark-green velvet spencer, which had been delivered only the day before, Emily knew she looked her best. She’d taken longer than usual to get ready, always wondering if she would see the earl.

As the coach drew up in front of the elegant town house, Emily’s heart raced. She was terribly to
rn
about wanting to see Hawksworth and yet not. What if they came face-to-face and he were to reject her apology as she had so cruelly spu
rn
ed his offer of marriage? She closed her eyes and tried to rally her courage to enter his home.

Pushing aside her fears, she stepped to the street and waited as the footman knocked. Minutes later, Emily was pleased when the door opened to reveal the butler.

“Miss Collins!” There was such delight in the old servant’s face that her heart warmed.

“ ’Tis good to see you, Bedows.” She stepped in, her maid following.

“Have you come to see his lordship?” There was such a look of hope in the old man’s eyes that Emily hated to disappoint him.

She shook her head. “I was invited by Mr. Carson.”

Bedows seemed to realize he was forgetting his duty. He took the lady’s cape, saying, “I have been instructed to put you in the Morning Room, miss. Then I shall inform Lord James and the children of your arrival.”

To Emily’s surprise, he led her into what she could only assume was a small private room used by the family on the ground floor instead of an upstairs drawing room. The butler promised to bring refreshments, then left her alone, her maid seated outside in the hall.

Nervous, Emily moved to the wall of windows which overlooked a large garden. Her heart leapt when, to her surprise, she saw the earl seated in the rear of the garden, apparently in deep thought, his gaze riveted on the ground. She was immediately struck by the change in his appearance. His face looked gaunt and drawn, as if he’d not eaten since she’d last seen him. His attire, while proper, showed none of the meticulousness she remembered. His cravat was tied in a simple knot but was slightly askew, and his hair looked as if he’d been combing it with his fingers.

Her heart ached to see him thus, and she reached out her hand to touch the glass as if she might reach him. But just then she heard the door to the sitting room open, and her hand dropped to her side. Gathering her wits, she turned and pasted a smile on her face.

To her surprise, it wasn’t Mr. Carson standing before her, but Lady Hawksworth. Emily suddenly wished she hadn’t come. But as the lady crossed the room to her, Emily realized that the countess had changed as well. All the old hostility and arrogance was gone from her lined face.

“My dear, you can have no idea how delighted I am to see you again.” The countess hugged Emily; then, realizing how tense the girl in her arms was, she drew back to look at her visitor. “Sir Ethan told me your uncle repeated an altered version of a conversation his son overheard at the library door.”

Emily was surprised at the lady’s bluntness. “And did such a conversation take place?”

The dowager drew Emily towards a yellow damask sofa. “There was a conversation, but to understand what was said, you must let me begin at the beginning, my dear. To do that I must go back some fifteen years to a promise Oliver made his grandfather.”

The countess quickly explained how she had come to
pressure her grandson to marry to honor his old promise and how she had been the one to bring Lady Cora into the affair and Oliver’s reluctance to wed at all.

“The conversation your cousin heard was about my grandson telling me that titles and money did not matter where there was love. Oliver only mentioned your fortune to overcome my foolish notions about marrying for advantage. I have promised Oliver I will no longer interfere in his affairs. Can you forgive me for having made such a mess of things?”

Emily looked down at her hands linked in a tight knot in her lap. “
I
can, my lady, but I think the more important question is whether the earl can forgive me.”

The countess’s mouth tipped into a hopeful smile. “There is but one way to find out. He is there in the garden, child. Go to him.”

Emily turned to gaze at the earl, still sitting staring at the ground. Fear raced through her. What if she couldn’t convince him to forgive her? So much depended on what would occur in the next few moments. She rose without further ado, going straight to the glass door and quietly letting herself into the garden.

Oliver sat on a marble bench, his mind a black void. For weeks he’d tried to convince himself he should go to Emily and try again. Sir Ethan swore to him that Mr. Collins had convinced the lady he was after her money. But Oliver knew he had only his word that it was all a lie. As the memory of her rejection played over again in his mind, he knew his pride wouldn’t let him face her refusal again.

Oliver’s gaze fell to a large stone mixed among the gravel. He picked it up and tossed it with all his might, as if the action might relieve some of his frustration. He’d promised not to force his attentions on Emily again. In all honesty, he wasn’t certain that once he was in her presence, he could resist trying to bend her to his will by the sheer force of his passion for her. He was living a nightmare. He wanted her so badly, yet he was afraid to go to her.

The soft crunch of gravel on the walk penetrated his pain-fogged brain and he looked up. He started to his feet. “Emily!”

“My lord.” Her amber eyes searched his face; then she gave a slight shrug. “There are a thousand things I should say, but I think too much talk is what got us into this predicament.” She moved to stand before him. “I love you, Oliver.”

The earl couldn’t believe his ears. Was this a dream? He reached out his hand to stroke her cheek, and it was warm and real.

“My dearest Emily.” With that he gave in to his desire and drew her into his arms and showered kisses on the lady’s upturned face as she placed her arms around his neck, laughing and crying with joy as the earl again asked for her hand and she gladly gave it—along with her heart.

It was some considerable time before words were again spoken, the pair being so lost in each other, but at last Emily drew back to ask. “Should we speak of what happened?”

Oliver’s arms tightened about her. “It’s in the past, my love. I have only one thing to tell you to remove any doubts you may have as to my love. Your fortune is yours to do with as you wish. I shan’t object if you wish to toss every last groat to the poor in the streets of London.”

“Are you proposing I start a riot? For that is surely what would occur.”

The earl laughed as he fingered a brown curl near her lovely face. “My dear, you may do as you please as long as you marry me.”

Just then a child’s voice echoed in the garden. “Miss Collins, Miss Collins, you have come to visit us!”

The earl released his hold on Emily as Honoria, Jamie, Kali, the countess, Miss Millet and James Carson entered the garden through the Yellow Morning Room.

The children dashed forward and threw themself into the lady’s open arms. They were full of news of the things which had occurred since she left them, the most important of which was, naturally, the return of their father.

At last Jamie turned to Honoria and said, “See—I told you Uncle would smile again if only Miss Collins would return.”

The little girl drew Emily to her. “Say you will stay with us so Uncle Oliver will smile.”

Emily grinned at the earl. “I do believe I shall, my dear.”

Just then the other adults arrived. First there were introductions. Then Mr. Carson, a man slightly shorter than his brother but with similar dark brown hair and blue eyes, did his best to thank the lady for all her kindness to his children.

At last the countess, too blunt to contain her curiosity, remarked, “Well, Oliver, I must assume that we are to wish you happy after having seen you maul the girl so abominably for the last several minutes.”

Emily blushed, but the earl proudly put his arm round her. “Miss Collins has consented to by my wife, Grandmother.”

Lady Hawksworth gave a contented sigh, then came and gave her grandson and his prospective bride a kiss. “Well, it’s about time. Pray don’t dawdle over the arrangements. You know how I dislike staying in Town, and I cannot leave until after the ceremony.”

“I fully agree, madam.” He smiled down at Emily. “What say you to a special license, my love?”

Lady Hawksworth’s grey eyes grew round. “Special license! Nonsense! That will do well enough for Sir Ethan and Mrs. Keaton, but an Earl of Hawksworth does not marry in such a shabby manner. The wedding shall be in St. George’s in three weeks.”

Oliver shook his head. “I seem to remember something about a promise to no longer interfere in my affairs, dear lady.”

The countess opened her mouth to protest; then, seeing the look on everyone’s face, she begrudgingly said, “Oh, very well. I shall leave it all to you, my boy.”

With that, James Carson took his grandmother’s arm. “I do believe we should leave the happy couple to make their own decision. Come children, let us return indoors.”

After the gentleman led his protesting children back into the town house, Oliver turned to Emily, tilting her chin up. “What say you, my love? Shall it be a grand Society affair or would you prefer something simple?”

“Well, sir, I have this amazingly beautiful Hindustani wedding dress I purchased in Calcutta.” The lady then proceeded to describe the red
sari
which had so scandalized her friend.

Oliver grinned, then kissed her soundly. In a husky voice, he whispered, “You little minx, I think it must be the special license. I, and only I, shall see you in that wedding dress anon.”

In the most docile of voices, Emily replied, “As ever, I am yours to command, my love.”

Lord Hawksworth laughed before he kissed the managing Miss Collins soundly.