“Of course they would,” Mrs. Merryweather said quickly and then added, “what have you been hearin’? Who’s been talkin’? Don’t tell me that Marquis was a-gossipin’ about Mistress Fitzherbert. Did you tell him you were visitin’ her?”

“No, of course not. He thought I was your niece.”

“It’s sorry I am that I ever said such a thing,” Mrs. Merryweather remarked. “’Twould have been best to tell the truth. But I had to think quickly and it seemed a good idea at the time. Now I’m certain sure it was a mistake.”

“Oh, no, you were right,” Gretna cried. “It would have been terrible if you had mentioned Aunt Maria to the Marquis.”

“Terrible! Why’s that?”

“Oh, no – no – r-reason.”

Gretna would say no more however hard Mrs. Merryweather tried to find out what she meant by such a remark or what had happened the night before.

The good lady was very perplexed and yet there was nothing she could do about it.

*

They eventually arrived in London and were set down at the Posting house.

Mrs. Merryweather found a Hackney carriage to carry Gretna to Park Street before she hurried to catch her own coach to St. Albans.

Gretna hugged her as they said ‘goodbye’.

“Thank you, dear, dear Mrs. Merryweather for all you have done for me,” she said. “I can never be sufficiently grateful and I will write to you and tell you all about everything, I promise you that”

“Now, you look after yourself, dearie. I shall be thinkin’ of you and prayin’ for you too, but I know you will be all right with Miss Maria. And please to give her my best respects.”

“I will indeed,” Gretna promised and waved goodbye from the Hackney carriage as it drove away, leaving Mrs. Merryweather staring after her with a troubled expression on her kind fat face.

Gretna settled herself in the corner of the carriage and then opened her purse to be quite certain that she had enough money to pay the fare.

Now she was alone, all the questions and problems that had been troubling her the night before came rushing back with renewed violence to make an onslaught on her mind and serenity.

Could it be true what she had overheard?

That the Prince of Wales was in love with Aunt Maria?

Mistress Fitzherbert was not really an aunt, but ever since Maria Smythe had ‘adopted’ her as a baby, as Mrs. Merryweather would so often recall, she had looked up to her, loved her and eventually the relationship had been formulated into that of ‘aunt’ and ‘niece’.

Gretna was only five when Maria first married and it would not have been correct for her to call a married woman by her Christian name and so Maria became ‘Aunt Maria’. Later, as Mistress Fitzherbert, she swore that no one could have a more devoted relative.