Andrews cleared his throat as I handed him my walking stick while I removed my hat and overcoat, then retrieved my stick and gave him my hat and coat. “Your father wishes to see you in the study, Mr Warrick.”
“Thank you.” I crossed the foyer and limped down the hallway to the study.
Father was seated at his desk.
“You wanted to—”
“You were seen!” Father reared up from his seat and slammed his fists against the desk. I backed away a step, startled. He usually kept his emotions under strict control, and I’d never seen him erupt in this manner.
“I beg your pardon?”
“And well you should. You were seen in Town with some trollop on your arm. Miss Corbyn has been most forbearing, but for how much longer do you think she’ll tolerate your behaviour? Which you should have got out of your system years ago.”