A soft fichu framed the whiteness of her neck. For one moment she wished that she had pearls to wear or even a little brooch of diamonds. And then she laughed at herself. Such ornamentation was not for her and not likely to be.

She was certain that her life in London would be very quiet. And yet perhaps sometimes she would have a chance of seeing ladies in their jewels and finery.

It was so exciting to think that tomorrow she would be looking out on streets filled with traffic instead of just green fields with nothing more exciting moving amongst them than a cow or a goat.

And tonight – tonight was exciting too. She felt herself tremble a little in anticipation of what lay ahead of her.

The Marquis was a frightening person, but it would be interesting to listen to him, to hear him talking and to realise that the gentlemen whom her mother had known when she was a girl had looked like him and lived in such grandeur.

Whatever Mrs. Merryweather might say, she would not miss it for anything in the world.

Gretna gave one last look at herself in the mirror and slipped into the room next door.

“I must go downstairs,” she said. “It is time for dinner.”

“Don’t go, dearie! I beg of you, don’t go,” Mrs. Merryweather almost begged her.

“I can look after myself,” Gretna replied, her head held high.

“You look about as much capable of that as a chicken what has just come out of the egg,” Mrs. Merryweather snapped. And then she smiled. “Oh, well, I can quite understand you wantin’ to have a look at life. The Lord knows you’ve been quiet enough all these years and I’m here if you want me. It isn’t as if I wasn’t in the house, is it?”

It was almost as if she were pleading for reassurance and Gretna bent forward and kissed her cheek.

“You are not to worry,” she said reassuringly. “Just lie quietly until the physician comes and I will hurry in to see if you are comfortable when I come up to bed.”

“You won’t be late?” Mrs. Merryweather insisted.

Gretna shook her head.

“Not a moment later than ten o’clock. I am persuaded that it is the proper time for a correct young lady to retire.”

She moved from the room, conscious that despite the poor quality of her petticoats they rustled faintly round her feet. Then she opened the door of her bedroom as the light from the tapers in the great hall cast a golden glow over the landing.

She took a deep breath.

This was like walking into a tremendous adventure. She was about to dine alone with a Marquis, a man she had never seen before today, but who was undoubtedly a personage of great standing and distinction.