“I-I don’t – know,” Gretna answered. “He appeared to interest himself in me, but I feel now that he will do so no more – in fact I think it most unlikely that I shall ever see him again.”

Even as she said the words Gretna felt her heart sink.

Could it be true, she wondered for one second, that she minded? Would she indeed be glad if the Marquis went from her life and troubled her no further?

She told herself hastily that she was glad that she was sure that now he knew about her he would in very truth put her from his mind.

She could still hear the severity and force in his voice at Stade Hall as he spoke to Lord Wroxhall of his disgust and dislike of Maria. Was it likely, now that he knew where she was staying, that he would call?

She wished that she felt more elated at the prospect of being rid of him. She wished that she was not conscious of the tears running down her cheeks in the darkness of the carriage.

“Who is this man?” Maria was asking. “Do I know him?”

“I-I think – n-not,” Gretna managed to answer.

“But what is his name?”

“His name is – the Marquis – of Stade,” Gretna replied.

There was a moment’s silence.

She was well aware that the woman beside her had stiffened.

And then in a voice of anger Maria exclaimed,

“That man! He is my most implacable, my most avowed enemy!”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Gretna awoke to find Maria peeping round the bedroom door at her.

“You have slept late, dearest! I had not the heart to waken you until now. But we have a luncheon party for twenty. If you don’t rise now, you will be late and that would never do for, of course, the Prince is coming.”

Gretna looked at the clock on the mantelshelf with dismay. It seemed that she had but closed her eyes for two minutes, having been awake until dawn. And yet now it was nearly luncheontime.

She did not wish to explain that she had lain sleepless, tossing and turning from the time they had returned from Carlton House, thinking over what had happened and going over again and again in her mind all that the Marquis had said to her.

“I am sorry, Maria,” she apologised. “I will rise – immediately.”

“You must wear your prettiest gown,” Maria advised her with a smile. “An old friend of yours is visiting us today.”

She went from the room before Gretna had time to question her further.

An old friend?

She wondered who that could be for she knew no one in London save the Marquis and she was quite certain that he would never cross the threshold of the house so long as Maria occupied it.