“You are sure you know – where she has gone?” Gretna asked, turning round to look at him.

“I promise you I do. Come, I swear I will not hurt you.”

“I will come with you only on one condition, my Lord – that you do not touch me,” Gretna asserted.

There was a smile on his lips and a light in his eyes as he bowed.

“You have my word on it.”

With her head held high and with a dignity that might have been envied by any Duchess, she walked slowly along the pavement towards his coach.

He handed her into it and directed the footman to collect her box from the top of the steps. Then he climbed in beside her and the door was closed. There was a little delay and then the carriage started off.

“Now, tell me,” Lord Wroxhall began, his voice soft and silky and to Gretna infinitely menacing, “why you are seeking Mistress Fitzherbert.”

She was desperately afraid of him, but at least he was keeping his promise. She had squeezed herself as far into the corner of the coach as she could manage and he was sitting in the other corner and there was quite an appreciable distance of soft cushioned seat between them.

“I have reasons of – my own,” she answered.

“How aloof you are to someone who only has your interests at heart.”

She made no reply to this and after a moment he bent forward.

“Listen, my dear. Do not let us mince words between us, I can see that you are in poor circumstances. Let me be of assistance to you.”

He saw her stiffen and added quickly,

“Not in the way you imagine, but in quite another manner.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Gretna said, merely because it seemed that she must say something.

“Let me tell you very plainly,” Lord Wroxhall said. “I want information about Mistress Fitzherbert. If you are to stay in her house, it would be worth your while, well worth it, to see me occasionally to relate to me any little details that might be of interest. Nothing sensational, don’t be afraid of that, just your observation of ordinary everyday occurrences.”

“So you are asking me to be – a spy?”

Gretna almost spat the words at him and had the satisfaction of seeing him look almost ashamed.

“Do you imagine that I would spy on anyone?” she went on. “Least of all on someone whom I respect and love. Yes, those are the right words, my Lord. I respect and love Mistress Fitzherbert and I can only imagine that you wish to spy on her – because someone as good and decent as she would not allow a creature such as yourself even to cross the threshold of her house.”

Gretna’s scorn seemed to vibrate round the carriage. For a moment she thought that she had nonplussed Lord Wroxhall and then she saw that he was chuckling.