Gretna was forced to pause for a moment to avoid the footmen and even as she did so a man stepped from the cabriolet.

She was about to pass on.

She had in fact already crossed the carpet and was on her toes ready to run even quicker than she had run before.

Then she heard her own name.

“Gretna!”

She turned to look over her shoulder, her eyes wide with fear and her breath coming quickly between her lips.

It was the Marquis who stood there, an expression of astonishment on his face.

“What in God’s name are you doing?” he asked.

CHAPTER FOUR

Gretna stood staring at the Marquis until he said coldly,

“I may be mistaken, but it appears to me that you are running away.”

She felt the colour rise in her face as she looked back to where, further down the Square, Lord Wroxhall’s coach stood outside his house. The servants in their flamboyant livery were moving to and from the coach, but there was no sign of its owner.

Gretna felt relief sweep over her. For a second she was too glad to be rid of Lord Wroxhall to remember that the Marquis was waiting for a reply to his question.

Then she looked back at him and, when at length she did speak, the words came in a stammer,

“Y-yes – yes, I-I was running – away, my Lord.”

“It appears to have become a habit,” the Marquis remarked sarcastically.

Gretna blushed and dropped her head for a moment and then remembered.

“My box!” she exclaimed. “It is on Lord Wroxhall’s coach.”

“I will send a servant for it,” the Marquis said. “May I invite you to enter my house while he does so?”

“There is no need,” Gretna replied a little wildly. “All I require, my Lord, is a Hackney carriage. I was endeavouring to find one – when Lord Wroxhall insisted that he would convey me in his carriage to – where I wished to go. And then – ”

The words came bursting out almost as if she felt that the Marquis would not believe her and she was determined that he should listen to her explanation.

“I think,” the Marquis interrupted suavely, “that what you have to reveal would be best said inside my house and not on the pavement.”

It was rebuke and Gretna felt the colour deepen in her face.

“As your Lordship wishes,” she agreed humbly and then added quickly, “You will send for a – Hackney carriage?”

“A conveyance shall be provided for you,” the Marquis replied.

There was nothing more that she could say and meekly, feeling like a child who has been caught out in some misdemeanour, she walked through the door and into the cool quietness of a square hall.