Supposing Lord Dorrington no longer wished to give her the protection of his name? Suppose, now the Prince was dead, he suggested that she should return to her mother or lead her own life?

The thought was so dreadful that Alyna could hardly breathe.

She could not leave him! She could not face life without him beside her!

She loved him, but he was not aware of it. If he sent her away, there was nothing she could do but obey him!

Even though the room was growing warmer she shivered beneath the soft transparent negligée that covered her nightgown.

She knew that if she was sensible she would get into bed, but she was too restless, too perturbed.

What was more she was waiting for Lord Dorrington! That was the real truth!

She wanted to see him. She wanted to make sure for herself that he was not injured.

She had been so desperately afraid for his life that it was almost impossible, even now it was all over, to feel secure or wipe away the last remaining fears that had tortured her for so long.

She thought that she heard voices in the hall. She moved a little way across the bedroom to stand listening.

Had Lord Dorrington come back? Was he really in the house?

She stood waiting, her eyes large and fearful in her pale face, her hands clasped tightly together as they had been at Carlton House as she had watched the fight.

Then the door opened and Lord Dorrington came in.

“The servants told me that you had retired, but that you wished to see me,” he said. “Are you all right?”

She wanted to answer him, but somehow it was impossible, she could only stand looking at him as if she had never seen him before.

Then at last in a voice that was hardly above a whisper she said,

“Did – he wound – you?”

“He never touched me,” Lord Dorrington replied.

“Are you – sure?”

He closed the door behind him and came further into the room.

“Do you still not trust me?” he asked with a smile.

He looked for a moment at the expression in her eyes. Then with a faint smile as if he humoured a child, he took off his evening coat.

He threw it down on a chair, opened wide his arms and asked,

“Look for yourself.”

His shirt was snowy white. There was not a mark on it and Alyna, remembering the crimson patches that had bespattered the Prince’s shirt, gave a little sigh of utter relief.

“I was so – afraid,” she murmured.

“I can understand that,” Lord Dorrington answered, “but I did not dare to warn you.”

“To warn me!” she exclaimed.

She looked up at him and said accusingly,

“You planned it! You planned everything! That was why the Prince was invited to Carlton House.”