She felt the sudden frustration and fear that nothing she said really had any effect on him. He just watched her, his evil bloodshot eyes seeming to devour her face, her frightened eyes, the agitation of her breasts and the pulse beating nervously at the base of her white throat.

He took it all in and she sensed that she aroused everything that was base and bestial in his nature.

“You are safe enough for the moment,” he said slowly. There was a pause before the last three words. “Today I do business for my Prince. Tomorrow, who knows? I may be a free man and ready to pursue you.”

“If you have business with His Royal Highness, then you will not – find him here.” Gretna said holding herself stiffly. “He is, I believe, at Carlton House.”

“Doubtless with the fair Maria in attendance,” Lord Wroxhall sneered.

“Do not dare speak of Mistress Fitzherbert in such a manner,” Gretna cried angrily and added, “would your Lordship oblige me – by leaving?”

“So fiery, so sweet. What pleasure to kiss those lips until they cry for mercy,” Lord Wroxhall retorted. “I told you the first time I saw you that you were unbroken. I thought the noble Marquis was the one to do that. I was mistaken. I shall reserve that infinite pleasure for myself.”

“Will you go away or must I – have you thrown out?” Gretna asked, her hand raised towards the bell-pull.

Lord Wroxhall bowed.

“I will leave. But, if I am unfortunate enough not to find Mistress Fitzherbert at Carlton House, will you be gracious enough to inform her that a Villa has been found for her at Brighthelmstone. A modest, pretty little place with green shutters separated from the Pavilion, where His Royal Highness will be staying, by only a strip of garden.”

Lord Wroxhall somehow contrived to make his description sound insulting.

Without saying a word in answer Gretna merely rang the bell.

“The footman will be waiting – to show you out, my Lord,” she said and turned her back to him, walking across the room to stare blindly out of the window conscious to her annoyance that her hands were trembling visibly.

“We shall meet at Brighthelmstone, my dear,” Lord Wroxhall declared softly.

Then she heard him go and the door closed behind him, but his hateful presence seemed to linger on in the salon even after he had left the house.

She was to learn, when Maria returned, that he had indeed been given the task by the Prince of finding a house where she could stay in Brighthelmstone.

“You know, dearest,” Maria explained, “I cannot stay under the same roof as the Prince. He has asked me to do so, but I said firmly that we would not join him in Brighthelmstone until a house could be found for me.”