He would no doubt explain it to her when he returned, she thought happily.

She felt a movement beside her and saw one of the spaniels rise and look in the direction that his Master had gone in and then trot resolutely towards the door.

He found it closed, whined and then pressed against it. It could not have been properly latched because it opened a crack and the spaniel inserted his nose, then his head and finally his body disappeared completely.

It was then that Gretna heard the Marquis’s voice.

For a moment she just listened to his deep tones, hearing it as a sound rather than because the words that he was speaking made any sense.

And then she heard another man’s voice. It drawled and yet had an oily quality about it.

“The Prince could hardly credit it that you had returned and not been to see him.”

“I have only been back in England for three weeks and there has been much for me to do here.”

It was the Marquis.

“Your friends in London will not feel complimented by your reluctance to greet them.”

“I have little anxiety to do so, if it comes to that.”

“Really, Julien,” Lord Wroxhall exclaimed. “You can hardly expect me to credit that sentiment unless, of course, you are still wearing the willow for Eloise. Buckhurst remains her protector as you know.”

“Eloise’s life or her associations are not of the slightest interest to me,” the Marquis said and his tone was icy.

Lord Wroxhall laughed.

“Doing it a bit brown, aren’t you, Julien? We all knew you must have been mad as fire that Eloise did not accompany you into exile. Oh, well! Such women are all the same.”

“You are right,” the Marquis agreed. “But you don’t go far enough. All women are the same, selfish and greedy, wanting all they can get out of a man and determined to give as little as possible in return.”

“And yet the world would be a dead bore without them,” Lard Wroxhall commented. “And certainly the Prince would find it so.”

“Tell me, how is His Royal Highness?” the Marquis enquired.

“Well enough in health, but he is just as irresponsible and impetuous as he has ever been. You have heard about his latest of course?”

“No, I have heard nothing. Strangely enough in Hungary, for that is where I have been, the scandals of the Beau Monde are not of the least consequence.”

“Then what the devil did you talk about?”

“Horses mostly,” the Marquis said. “And sometimes of even more serious subjects. But those, my dear Wroxhall, would not interest you or the Beau Monde.”

Although Gretna could not see Lord Wroxhall, she sensed that he shrugged his shoulders.

“’Pon rep, Julien, sneer as you please! I cannot say I envy you. The wilderness was never for me. Ah, well! So you have not heard.”

“Heard what?”