She sprang up then with a sudden nervous movement as if she was a fawn frightened by the hunt.

She stared at the Marquis and her hands went out nervously to smooth the fullness of her muslin skirts.

She was wearing the same white muslin gown with its blue sash that she had worn at Stade Hall the first time she had met him.

But her eyes now were dark with pain and unhappiness.

“Why have – you – come here?” she asked at length, seeing that he did not speak.

“I have come to take you back to Brighthelmstone,” he said. “Did you really think that you could go away and that no one would worry about you?”

“But I cannot go – back,” she said quickly. “You don’t – understand.”

“I think I do. Come, let’s sit down and talk about it.”

She was too weak to resist and she let him lead her to where just outside the Church there was a wooden seat set between two yew trees.

From there they could look over the ancient graves to where the wild rose bushes rioted in pink and white profusion over the Church wall and beyond to where the green meadows sloped down to a slowly moving river.

Gretna sat down on the seat and, as the Marquis settled himself beside her, she moved as far away from him as she could.

“I cannot go – back,” she repeated in a strangled voice.

“Why not?” he enquired.

“Because someone has – found out. Someone has – talked. I cannot bring scandal and trouble upon – Maria. She bears enough – as it is.”

“There will be no scandal or trouble,” the Marquis reassured soothingly. “I will deal with whoever is spreading these lies”

“But even you cannot save me from – gossip. It is too intangible and too insidious. I have seen what it can – do and there is no – remedy for it.”

“Except, apparently, to run away?” he said drily.

“There are other – reasons as well,” Gretna asserted.

“Will you tell me what they are?”

“I must earn my own – living,” she said firmly. “I cannot batten on Maria – forever. She – she cannot afford it.”

“And how do you propose to set about this formidable task?” he asked.

She hesitated at this, twisting one end of her sash between her fingers.

“I-I thought perhaps – when I had rested a little,” she replied hesitantly, “I would go to London – unless I was fortunate enough to find – something to do here.”

She coloured a little and added,

“You told me once to go back to the country, but I don’t think I could – make some honest farmer – happy even if there was one who – who wanted to marry me.”

“I have a better suggestion to make,” the Marquis declared.

“What is – it?” she enquired.

“That you should come to Stade Hall. I have a position for you there.”

The blood flared suddenly in her cheeks.

“You – suggested – that once before,”