LOVE IN THE EAST

BARBARA CARTLAND

Copyright © 2005 by Cartland Promotions

First published on the internet in 2005 by

Barbaracartland.com

The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and

bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.

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LOVE IN THE EAST

And then he was kissing her. His lips were on hers, caressing them

fiercely yet with passionate tenderness.

For a moment she was too startled to react. Then alarm and

agitation surged through her. She must stop this happening.

But at the same moment she knew that she did not want him to stop.
The feel of his mouth against hers was thrilling. No man had ever

kissed her and the sensation was astounding.

The steely clasp of his arms about her, his warm, mobile mouth

caressing hers, his spicy, masculine scent, all these things fired her with
a feeling she unwillingly recognised as desire.

It was shocking, improper, shameless.
It was thrilling, wonderful.
Scarcely knowing what she was doing, she relaxed in his arms,

feeling the heat of his body through her thin nightgown. She was dizzy
and exhilarated, craving for his kisses to last for ever even while she
knew that she must be strong and call a halt.

THE BARBARA CARTLAND PINK

COLLECTION

Barbara Cartland was the most prolific bestselling author in the

history of the world. She was frequently in the Guinness Book of Records
for writing more books in a year than any other living author. In fact her
most amazing literary feat was when her publishers asked for more
Barbara Cartland romances, she doubled her output from 10 books a
year to over 20 books a year, when she was 77.

She went on writing continuously at this rate for 20 years and wrote

her last book at the age of 97, thus completing 400 books between the
ages of 77 and 97.

Her publishers finally could not keep up with this phenomenal output,

so at her death she left 160 unpublished manuscripts, something again
that no other author has ever achieved.

Now the exciting news is that these 160 original unpublished

Barbara Cartland books are ready for publication and they will be
published by Barbaracartland.com exclusively on the internet, as the web
is the best possible way to reach so many Barbara Cartland readers
around the world.

The 160 books will be published monthly and will be numbered in

sequence.

The series is called the Pink Collection as a tribute to Barbara

Cartland whose favourite colour was pink and it became very much her
trademark over the years.

The Barbara Cartland Pink Collection is published only on the

internet. Log on to

www.barbaracartland.com

to find out how you can

purchase the books monthly as they are published, and take out a
subscription that will ensure that all subsequent editions are delivered to
you by mail order to your home.

If you do not have access to a computer you can write for

information about the Pink Collection to the following address :

Barbara Cartland.com Ltd.
240 High Road,
Harrow Weald,
Harrow
HA3 7BB
United Kingdom.

Telephone & fax: [phone]

Titles in this series

1. The Cross of Love
2. Love in the Highlands
3. Love Finds the Way
4. The Castle of Love
5. Love is Triumphant
6. Stars in the Sky
7. The Ship of Love
8. A Dangerous Disguise
9. Love Became Theirs

10. Love drives in
11. Sailing to Love
12. The Star of Love
13. Music is the Soul of Love
14. Love in the East

THE LATE DAME BARBARA CARTLAND

Barbara Cartland, who sadly died in May 2000 at the grand age of

ninety eight, remains one of the world’s most famous romantic novelists.
With worldwide sales of over one billion, her outstanding 723 books
have been translated into thirty six different languages, to be enjoyed by
readers of romance globally.

Writing her first book ‘Jigsaw’ at the age of 21, Barbara became an

immediate bestseller. Building upon this initial success, she wrote
continuously throughout her life, producing bestsellers for an astonishing
76 years. In addition to Barbara Cartland’s legion of fans in the UK and
across Europe, her books have always been immensely popular in the
USA. In 1976 she achieved the unprecedented feat of having books at
numbers 1 & 2 in the prestigious B. Dalton Bookseller bestsellers list.

Although she is often referred to as the ‘Queen of Romance’,

Barbara Cartland also wrote several historical biographies, six
autobiographies and numerous theatrical plays as well as books on life,
love, health and cookery. Becoming one of Britain’s most popular media
personalities and dressed in her trademark pink, Barbara spoke on
radio and television about social and political issues, as well as making
many public appearances.

In 1991 she became a Dame of the Order of the British Empire for

her contribution to literature and her work for humanitarian and charitable
causes.

Known for her glamour, style, and vitality Barbara Cartland became

a legend in her own lifetime. Best remembered for her wonderful
romantic novels and loved by millions of readers worldwide, her books
remain treasured for their heroic heroes, plucky heroines and traditional
values. But above all, it was Barbara Cartland’s overriding belief in the
positive power of love to help, heal and improve the quality of life for
everyone that made her truly unique.

“Love never dies, it does not even fade away.”

Barbara Cartland

CHAPTER ONE

-

1876

As Shona Winterton arrived back at her family house in Park Lane,

she wondered how she could bear to enter.

Once it had been such a happy home. Now it felt more like a prison.
As she stepped down from her carriage, the butler pulled the front

door open and greeted her with a smile.

“I am glad to see you back, miss. We’ve missed you while you have

been away.”

“Thank you Hoskins. Is my mother well?”
“Her Ladyship has been rather tired recently. She is lying down at

the moment, but I know she will be delighted to see you.”

Shona smiled at him.
Hoskins had been the butler at her parents’ house for fifteen years.

She knew he would do everything in his power to help her, should she
need it.

As she walked upstairs she was thinking that the day might come,

quite soon, when his help would be exactly what she needed.

Things would be so different if only her father was still alive.
He had been a quiet man, who loved his books and literature, as

well as speaking several languages. He had no time for the notion that
girls should not seem too intelligent, lest they damage their marriage
chances. He was proud of Shona’s brains and tried to teach her
everything he knew.

He had loved to travel and had taken his wife and daughter abroad

at every opportunity. How delightful those trips had been.

But three years ago he had suffered a heart attack and died almost

immediately.

Shona and her mother had mourned him, but after eighteen months

her mother had re-married, and Shona had known then that this would
never be a happy home to her again.

Her step-father, Colonel Lockwood, was a loudmouthed man with a

coarse laugh, as different from her intellectual father as one man could
be from another.

Outside her mother’s door Shona paused and spoke to her maid

who had travelled with her.

“Go ahead and run me a bath, Effie. I must see my mother first.”
Effie hurried on down the corridor, while Shona knocked on her

mother’s door and received a faint,

“Come in.”
Putting her head round the door, she saw Lady Helen sitting up in

bed in a frothy bed jacket. Her face was pale and delicate.

At the age of fifty she had assumed the demeanour of a permanent

invalid, which Shona attributed to the strain of living with her second
husband.

Not that Lady Helen ever openly criticised him. To do so would

mean admitting that she had been foolish to marry him, and might ruin
the façade of marital bliss she seemed determined to maintain.

So she dealt with the problem the only way she knew, by escaping it

whenever she could.

Shona knew that her mother loved her. But she also knew that in any

battle with her step-father, she could expect no help from her.

Now her face brightened at the sight of her daughter and she

opened her arms in welcome.

“Shona,

darling

! At last you are here.”

There was something slightly exaggerated about her effusiveness

that made Shona’s heart sink. It was clear that her mother was very
relieved to see her and that told her that her worst fears were about to be
realised.

“My dear child,” Lady Helen said, “did you enjoy your visit to the

Donworths?”

“Very much Mama. They are such charming people and their house

is always full of fun. There were parties and dancing every night. I am

quite worn out!”

Lady Helen smiled at this tale of gaiety.
In her youth she had loved nothing better than a party. Night after

night she would be out dancing, the belle of the ball, flirting with one
young man after another, until she had met the man of her dreams and
married him.

She was still pretty in a fragile manner. The likeness between

herself and her daughter was astonishing. They had the same soft, light
brown hair, the same large blue eyes and delicate features.

But Shona’s face had a decisiveness that her mother’s lacked. Her

chin, although elegant, was strong, almost stubborn. Her mouth was full
and beautiful, but also firm.

Shona Winterton would never allow herself to be ordered about, but

there were those who had yet to learn that lesson. Her step-father was
one of them.

“I am so glad you enjoyed yourself,” Lady Helen said now.
“I would have remained longer,” Shona said, “except that Step-Papa

wrote to me – ”

“Oh my dear, why do you call him that? I am sure he would like you

to call him Papa.”

“I cannot do that,” Shona said quietly. “Papa is dead, and I will not

give his name to anyone else.”

Lady Helen sighed.
“I wish you would be a little less obstinate, darling child. Colonel

Lockwood is a good man and he devotes himself to your interests.”

“No really, Mama, that is too much to ask me to believe. He is not

devoted to my interests. Only his own. And I am not even sure that he’s a
good – ”

“

Hush

!” Lady Helen gave a little shriek. “What a terrible thing to

say?”

“I am sorry, Mama,” Shona said patiently.
She knew it was useless trying to tell unpleasant facts to her mother,

who would simply shut her eyes to the truth.

Nonetheless, she had one more try.
“The Colonel wants to be connected with a title,” she said. “And he

is trying to do it through me.”

“Oh, nonsense – ”
“It isn’t nonsense, Mama. Why do you think I came home early?

Step-Papa wrote to me, telling me to come back to London, because he
has invited ‘some charming people’ who want to meet me. He
particularly named the Earl of Harrington.”

“Well – he is a charming man,” her mother said, speaking in a

faltering tone, because the angry glint in Shona’s eyes alarmed her.

“No, Mama, he is not a charming man. He is coarse, vulgar and he

drinks too much. Step-Papa wants me to marry him because he is rich
and titled. He will do anything to see me married to an Earl.

“I don’t think Lord Harrington ever thought of me until Step-Papa

started throwing me at him. And I would not marry him if he was the last
man on earth.”

“Oh my dearest, you really must not be so positive. It is most

unladylike.”

“If I am not positive they will have me dragged up the aisle before I

know it,” Shona replied. “Mama, why do you think I went to visit the
Donworths? Because they live in Essex, a nice safe distance from
London. Free, I thought, of Step-Papa pestering me about Harrington.

“Not so, apparently. He demands my attendance at this dinner

tomorrow. So I returned to confront him and tell him to stop.”

Lady Helen gave a little scream.
“Oh, you must not be impolite to your father.”
“

Step

-father,” Shona said implacably. “He is not and never will be

my father. Now, Mama, I must go upstairs and change.”

She kissed her mother and vanished.
In her room she found Effie, unpacking and preparing a bath for her.
Effie was in her mid-twenties and had been Shona’s maid since she

was fifteen. The two young women were good friends.

“There are so many invitations for you, miss,” Effie said. “Look at

these.”

Shona ran through them, noticing that there was one for that very

evening, to a dance at Gresham House, home of the Duke and Duchess
of Gresham, of whom she was rather fond.

‘But it’s too late for me to accept now,’ she thought reluctantly.
As she bathed she thought over her situation and in particular her

unpleasant step-father.

‘If only,’ she thought, ‘Mama had not married him. I suppose I cannot

blame her. She was lonely after Papa died. But why this man of all men?’

She could have thought of at least a dozen men who, in her opinion,

would have been more appropriate than Colonel Lockwood.

But had she chosen him? Or had he set his sights on her?
From the first moment he had entered her home, Shona had

suspected that Colonel Lockwood had personal reasons for being there.
He was too complimentary in every way to her mother.

Shona had known, although she hated to acknowledge it, that it was

only a question of time before he would ask her mother to marry him and
her mother would accept.

She had to admit that he behaved nicely enough to her mother, at

least during their courtship. He could be charming when he set his mind
to it, but Shona soon decided that he was an adventurer with his eyes on
her mother’s money and her place in Society.

He was a man she could never like or trust.
Once the marriage had taken place she realised that he thought she

was an encumbrance. He wanted the house in London and the one in the
country, to himself.

And he soon decided that the best way to achieve his aim would be

to marry her off, preferably to a man of rank and thus elevate himself.

Shona’s father had been the son of a General who had made his

reputation on the battlefield but had never risen higher socially. But her
mother, Lady Helen, was the daughter of an Earl.

‘That was why he really wanted her,’ Shona thought. ‘He is a snob

and will always be one.’

He had insisted on using his new wife to bludgeon his way into

society as far as he could. Which was not very far.

His problem was that no man of taste and culture wanted to know

him. So he had to fall back on the company of men who, although
aristocrats, could hardly be described as gentlemen.

Gamblers, drunkards, boors – these were his companions. And he

would do his best to marry his stepdaughter to one of them.

The Earl of Harrington was merely the latest of a bad bunch. Every

time he appeared, Shona managed in some way to escape.

Usually she was late returning from riding if he came to luncheon.
If he came to dinner she either made the excuse that she was tired

and went to bed before dinner, or managed to disappear immediately it
was over.

Now she knew that such methods would no longer be enough.

Clearly Colonel Lockwood was determined to bring matters to a head.

Her worst fears were realised when she descended the stairs and

found that the Colonel had arrived home. He greeted her with a geniality
that made her heart sink.

His face was coarse and red and his huge moustache did not look

very clean. He smelt of whisky and Shona gave a shudder of disgust.

“I am delighted to see that you have returned home in obedience to

my wishes,” he said in the loud, harsh voice that grated on her.

She bit back an angry retort and replied coolly, “I was concerned for

my mother.”

“Of course, of course. Very natural. Your mother is very worried

about you, my dear girl. She thinks, as I do, that it is time you were
planning your wedding.”

“When I find a man who suits me I shall plan my wedding, but so far I

have not found such a man,” Shona replied firmly.

“Come now, a pretty girl like you is bound to marry soon.”
“That makes no sense,” she replied coolly. “If I am pretty, that might

make a man want to marry me, but it would not make me want to marry
him. I have not yet met a man who interests me, and I do not expect that
to alter for some time.”

His laugh had a touch of uneasiness.
“Well, we can discuss that at dinner tonight,” he said. “I have much to

say to you. As I told you, Lord Harrington will be here tomorrow and it is
time matters were settled between you and him.”

“They

are

already settled,” Shona said. “My refusal is final. They can

hardly be more settled than that.”

“That is not what I meant – ”
“I know what you meant, and my refusal is still final. You should not

delude your friend with false hopes. I want nothing to do with him.”

The Colonel’s mask of geniality vanished and his face was

contorted with anger.

“Now, you look here, my fine lady! Who do you think you are to

speak to me like that?”

“I am someone over whom you have no authority,” Shona said flatly.
“Now there you are mistaken. Until you become of age – ”
“Until I am of age you can prevent my marriage, but neither you nor

all the Queen’s horses and all the Queen’s men can force me to marry a
despicable oaf like Harrington.”

“

Harrington is my friend

.”

“So I would have supposed,” she riposted contemptuously.
He understood her meaning and raised his hand to strike her. His

temper, always nasty, had grown even more unmanageable of late.

Shona stood her ground, her cool, determined eyes meeting his

blazing look.

Just in time something stopped him. He lowered his hand, but his

expression was still enraged.

“I will talk to you later tonight,” he snapped.
Shona made an instant decision.
“I am afraid I shall not be joining you for dinner. I have arrived to find

an invitation from the Duke and Duchess of Gresham – for tonight.”

He was silent, uneasy, and she knew why. He was awed by the

Greshams’ ducal title, and the fact that they had invited Shona to their
house. But they would never invite the Colonel, whom they despised.

He hated her for being invited and for going without him, but he was

too much of a snob to try to prevent her dining with a Duke.

“Well, well,” he said at last, trying to sound jovial. “You must not

disappoint such good friends. Unfortunately I am otherwise engaged,
otherwise I would escort you there.”

“That would be most unwise,” Shona said quietly.
There was sheer hatred in the look he shot at her, but for the

moment she had gained the upper hand.

She walked away without giving him a backward glance. Her

manner was still defiant, but inwardly her heart was racing.

‘I must escape,’ she thought wildly. ‘He almost lost control of himself.

What lengths will he go to in order to force me?’

In her room she wrote a hurried note to the Duchess, hoping it was

not too late to accept her kind invitation and despatched it by a footman.

The answer arrived within the hour. The Duchess would be delighted

to welcome her. Shona breathed a sigh of relief and settled down to the
serious business of deciding what to wear.

With Effie’s help she settled on an evening gown of magnolia satin,

embroidered with rose coloured beads. Around her neck she wore a
pearl necklace, a gift from her grandfather.

Such independence as she could maintain came from the fact that

the Earl of Larness, her mother’s father, had left half his fortune to her
directly, and only half to his daughter.

Shona was sure that her step-father had thought her mother vastly

wealthy, and been infuriated to discover that he could get his hands on
very little.

The money of both women was in the hands of trustees, who

allowed Colonel Lockwood the bare minimum of his wife’s money and
none at all of Shona’s.

She knew, because the trustees had told her, that he had made

repeated efforts to dip into her fortune and was furious at being rebuffed.

‘And he thinks he will get my money when he’s married me to his

drinking crony,’ she thought now, as she dressed.

Her opinion was confirmed when Effie said, “I’ve been talking to the

other servants since we arrived back, miss, and they reckon the Colonel
has borrowed money from

that man

.”

There was no need to ask who ‘that man’ was. Effie hated him too.

He was, according to her, “a sight too free with his hands.”

“Is it safe to leave you alone here tonight?” Shona asked worriedly.
“Don’t you worry, miss. I’ll be slipping out to meet my young man,”

Effie replied, adding darkly, “he’s a policeman, although he picks up a bit
of extra money as a prize fighter.”

“You mean one of those men who punch each other senseless for

money?” Shona asked.

“Yes, miss. But Jimmy always wins.”
“Good. Then I feel happier about you. You can wear my pink dress if

you like.”

It was a relief to get into the carriage and drive away. Shona could

not resist looking back at the house. As she had expected, she could just
make out the Colonel, furtively looking out of an upstairs window.

She spent a pleasant evening having dinner with the Greshams.

She knew most of the guests and they were glad to see her, asking
about her visit to the country. The Colonel was never mentioned.

Shona was seated next to Viscount Melton, a young bachelor of

easy manners, who seemed slightly on edge tonight.

In the past they had flirted merrily enough, but tonight, when he had

spoken to her briefly, she sensed that he was glad to turn away to the
elderly lady on his other side.

When dinner was over and the ladies had retired, leaving the

gentlemen to their port, Shona spent some time talking to the Dowager
Duchess of Gresham, a very old lady with sharp eyes and a sharp
tongue.

She was a formidable woman who seldom left her home, but

somehow knew all the gossip and all the scandal. People often came to
her for advice.

She had a reputation for being able to solve any problem no matter

how difficult it might be.

Then the gentlemen entered and everyone mingled again. Shona

chatted for a few moments with her host, before wandering away to find
a sofa.

As she sat there, sipping her tea, she heard a voice behind her, and

turned.

But immediately behind the sofa was a curtain. Evidently the voice

was coming from the other side. She was about to move when she
realised that the voice belonged to Viscount Melton.

“I do hope you will be able to help me, Duchess. I am in bad trouble.”
Then came the Dowager Duchess of Gresham’s voice, “I know. You

are being hounded to marry the Larksworth girl, aren’t you. You should
have been more cautious.”

“I only danced with her – ” the Viscount began to protest.
“Three times in one evening. You should never dance with the same

girl more than twice. Haven’t you learned that by now? Three dances can
put ideas into the minds of ambitious parents.”

“It certainly did this time,” he groaned. “Sir Roger Larksworth has

been dropping some very strong hints.”

“Then the best thing you can do is to slip abroad for a few weeks,”

the Duchess told him. “By the time you return everyone will be talking
about someone else and this will be forgotten. Just stay out of trouble in
future.”

“That is easier said than done. He is not the only ambitious father

out there. That Lockwood fellow is too much to take.”

“Don’t tell me he is trying to marry off his stepdaughter?” the

Duchess asked.

“He has given me the odd look. I like Shona a lot, and if her father

had still been alive – well, it might have been different. But ally myself
with that fellow – no, thank you!”

“Poor Shona!” the Duchess reflected.
Shona, sitting very still on the other side of the curtain, felt her

cheeks burn. So this was what the Colonel had brought her to. No decent
man wanted her.

“I will leave tomorrow,” the Viscount declared, “and thank you for

being so helpful and kind to me.”

“I have known you since you were born,” the Duchess told him, “and

of course I am always ready to help you if I can.”

“Just as you have helped everyone,” he replied. “We are very

fortunate to have you here to sort out our romantic problems.”

The Duchess laughed again.
“I enjoy helping people,” she said. “It gives me a very interesting life.

And not all the problems are romantic. Only the other day the Marquis of
Chilworth asked me to find a secretary who could speak fluent French,
Spanish, Italian and, if possible, Greek.”

“Surely he could do that himself,” the Viscount said.
“I doubt if anyone could do it. Where is such a paragon to be found?

The English are very bad at speaking any language except their own.
And often they don’t even speak that correctly.”

“If anyone can rise to the challenge, you can,” the Viscount said.

“And your reputation will be enhanced.

Goodnight, dear Duchess, and thank you again.”
Then the Duchess said something that struck Shona forcefully.
“Don’t thank me until eventually you find someone you really love.

Then you will be truly grateful that I have managed to save you.”

As she sat in the carriage going home, the Duchess’s words came

back to Shona. If she allowed the Colonel to get his way she would never
know the joy of marrying a man she truly loved.

And that must not be allowed to happen.
She found her room in darkness and no sign of Effie, but the maid

arrived five minutes later.

“I’m so sorry, miss,” she said in alarm. “I should have been here to

wait for you.”

“It’s all right, Effie. Did you have a nice evening with your young

man?”

Effie’s eyes were shining.
“Oh, yes, miss. Jimmy and me are going to get married just as soon

as we can.”

“I hope you will be very happy,” Shona said warmly.
Effie had found true love, she thought with a touch of envy.
“What about your evening miss?”
Shona told her everything, including the conversation she had

overheard.

“This Duchess sounds like a sort of Fairy Godmother,” Effie

observed as she brushed Shona’s hair.

“Yes, but the kind who does very mundane miracles. The Marquis of

Chilworth wants her to find him a secretary who speaks plenty of
languages.”

“Like you, miss?”
“Me?”
“Your Papa taught you all those languages.”
“Why yes, but – he probably meant a male secretary.”
“But suppose he can’t get one, miss?” Shona stared at herself in the

mirror, wondering why she had never thought of this before. It could be
her chance of escape.

‘If only I dared,’ she thought.
“Hey – ” Effie was suddenly excited, “I’ve heard of this Marquis. He’s

the one they call ‘the Monster’.”

“Monster?” Shona echoed.
“They say nobody’s seen him for years, ever since His Great

Tragedy.”

She was clearly speaking in capital letters.

“What great tragedy?”
“They say he was madly in love with a girl, but she was Betrothed To

Another,” Effie said, speaking in capitals again.

“What happened?”
“They ran away, but her fiancé caught them and Shot Her Through

The Heart,” Effie said with a visible shudder of excitement.

“Since then, nobody sees him. He either shuts himself up in his

house or Roams the Seven Seas on his Yacht, which he had specially
built.”

“It sounds like the sort of melodrama you would see on the stage,”

Shona said sceptically.

“They said he went white-haired in a night.”
“How long ago is this supposed to have happened?”
Shona asked.
“Supposed, miss? It really did happen. True as I’m standing here. I

had it from my second cousin who knew a girl who was married to
someone who once worked for the Marquis.”

But if she had hoped to freeze her listener’s blood she was

disappointed. Shona Winterton was a rational female, with a practical
turn of mind.

“It all sounds very unlikely to me,” she said firmly. “If this story was

true, all society would know about it.”

“How can they when he Hides From The World?” Effie asked with

unanswerable logic. “Oh, miss, maybe you shouldn’t go near him.
Suppose he spirits you away.”

“Why should he do that?” Shona asked.
“For Dark Purposes,” Effie said dramatically.
“What dark purposes?”
“Who knows?”
Shona’s lips twitched.
“That doesn’t seem to get us very far,” she said. “If the Marquis of

Chilworth is such a recluse then he might be just what I need.”

“But suppose he wants to Sail The Seven Seas with you?”
“Oh, Effie, do stop talking like a character in a novelette,” Shona

chuckled. “Besides, sailing the seven seas would get me away from
Step-Papa. I must definitely go and meet the Marquis of Chilworth.”

Effie gave a little shriek.
“Oh, miss, suppose it isn’t safe.”
“If it isn’t safe I will just come back home again.”
“But suppose he spirits you away – ”
“For dark purposes, yes I know. I’ll take the risk.”
Her eyes gleamed with determination.
“You never know,” she said mischievously, “I might have some dark

purposes myself.”

CHAPTER TWO

Next morning Shona rose early. Effie brought her breakfast to her

room so that she need not risk encountering the Colonel.

“Not that he’ll be up so soon,” Shona observed. “I expect he got

home late.”

“Three in the morning, according to his valet,” Effie said wisely. “And

smelling of drink.”

“Then it will be noon before he has slept it off. Good. I have time to

plan.”

“What shall I lay out for you, miss?”
“I am not sure. I have got try to look very plain, and older than I am.

Can you do my hair so that it looks very severe?”

Effie raided the kitchen for some flour to brush into her hair. If it did

not make Shona look middle-aged, at least it took the gloss off her hair
and gave it a slightly pepper and salt effect.

By trial and error they finally managed to settle on the right style.

Shona’s hair was brushed back firmly against her head, covering her
ears and fixed into a bun at the back.

“And I need some spectacles,” she reflected. “But where can I find

them?”

“Higgins,” Effie exclaimed triumphantly.
Higgins had been an under butler who had departed the previous

month, leaving behind his spare

p

i

nce nez

.

Luckily Effie knew where to find them and when they were settled on

Shona’s nose they gave her an air of buttoned-up sternness that was
quite at variance with her normal self.

“But what shall I wear?” she mused. “All my clothes are too fine for

the woman I am supposed to be.”

“Exactly who are you supposed to be, miss?”
“Someone mature and dignified. Not a green girl. I am a severe, no-

nonsense sort of person. In fact, I think I had better be a widow.”

“But you don’t have a wedding ring.”
“I will wear my mother’s.”
When Lady Helen had married her second husband, she had

removed her first wedding ring and given it to her daughter. Now Shona
took the precious ring from her jewel box and looked at it wistfully.

Inside the heavy gold band was engraved,

May our love last

forever.

Her father had given it to her mother on their wedding day, she

reflected. How happy they must have been! And then he had died and
her mother had married a man who was quite unworthy of her.

‘But I will not let that man defeat me,’ she thought, slipping the ring

onto her finger.

“Now I just need to find something suitable to wear,” she said. “But

what do I have that’s plain enough?”

“What about one of my dresses, miss?” Effie suggested.
“That is a wonderful idea.”
Effie produced the dress she wore for church, which was very

simple and not at all what Shona would ordinarily have worn.

When she looked at herself in the mirror, she thought that she bore

no resemblance to her normal self.

“I look like a battle-axe,” she said. “And that’s good.”
“Shall I tell them to bring round the carriage, miss?”
“No, it isn’t far. I am going to walk. That way, nobody will know where

I have gone.”

“Then I am coming with you,” Effie said firmly. “I will wait outside the

house, but you are not walking there alone.”

“You think I will be spirited away for ‘dark purposes’?” Shona asked

with a chuckle.

“You might be. Besides, I don’t want to be here when the master

wakes up.”

“You are right. Let us be going.”
Once outside they walked for two streets and were then able to hail

a hansom cab. From there it was a fifteen minute journey.

At last they drew up outside Chilworth House in the Belgravia area

of London. It was huge and very impressive, but Shona noticed that the

house had a strange dead look.

Many of the windows were shuttered. It certainly looked like the

home of a man who had turned his back on the world.

For the first time she began seriously to wonder what sort of man

the Marquis of Chilworth might be.

She dismissed the idea that he could be the monster of Effie’s

fevered fantasies. But, equally obviously, he was not like other men.

Shona had never met him in society, and had seldom heard his

name spoken.

“I don’t like the look of it, miss,” Effie said when they had sent the

cab away, and they were standing outside the massive front door. “I am
coming in with you after all.”

She had spoken in the manner of one preparing to enter the lion’s

den. Shona’s lips twitched, but she was touched by her maid’s loyalty.

“All right,” she said. “Then if he wants to spirit me away, he will know

that he has you to deal with as well.”

“That’s right, miss. I’ll put up a good fight.”
“Effie, I was joking.”
“I wasn’t,” her henchwoman said grimly.
Shona rang the bell, hoping and praying that the position was not

already taken.

The butler opened the door.
When he looked at her questioningly, she said, “Will you please

inform Lord Chilworth that I have been sent to see him by the Dowager
Duchess of Gresham?”

The butler smiled.
“ Please come in, madam,” he said. “His Lordship has just finished

breakfast.”

“Oh dear, I hope I am not too early for him.”
“His Lordship is always up early,” the butler told her. “As I expect you

might know he is leaving the country very soon.”

“No, I – I did not know,” she replied, startled.
“What name shall I say?”
Shona thought faster than she had ever done in her life.
“Winters,” she said at last. “

Mrs

. Winters.”

“Well, Mrs. Winters, I am sure that if you have come from Her Grace,

he will be pleased to see you.”

Shona stepped inside, followed by Effie, who looked around her as

though expecting boiling oil to pour down over them.

Together they followed the butler down a long passage into a rather

austere looking sitting room.

“If you will be good enough to wait here,” he declared.
When the butler had gone, Shona walked to the mirror which was

above the fireplace to make a final check that she looked ‘in character’.

What she saw satisfied her.
The

pince nez

took away the beauty of her eyes. The severity of her

hair was forbidding.

“Is it wise to choose a name so like your own?” Effie whispered.

“Winters is very like Winterton.”

“That is why I chose it,” Shona replied, also in a quiet voice. “If he

takes me abroad with him I shall have to show my passport, which is in
the name of Winterton. If he notices the discrepancy I shall just say that
he misheard me.”

“Oh, miss, you are clever.” Shona sighed worriedly.
“It isn’t

very

clever, but it was the best I could think of at the time.”

It was quite a long wait before the butler returned.
“His Lordship will see you now, madam,” he announced. Shona rose

from the sofa on which she had been sitting.

“That is very kind of him,” she replied.
“If you will follow me, please.”
She and Effie exchanged one last glance before she left the room.
At the last moment she crossed her fingers.
“Mrs. Winters to see you, my Lord,” the butler said, standing back to

let her pass.

She found herself standing in a library which, like the rest of the

house, was gloomy. The Marquis was standing at the window looking out
at the garden.

When he turned round, the light was behind him.
She thought for a moment it shone around his head and shoulders

as if he had just come to earth from the sky above.

Once she had shaken off this first impression, she realised that he

was still an unusual man. He was at least six feet tall, and lean, with fine

features.

His eyes were dark and brilliant, so that she felt a strange intuition

that he could see deep into her.

It was hard to guess his age. He was certainly over thirty, perhaps

less than forty, with hair that was dark brown, not white, as Effie had
prophesied.

Most of all, there was a haunted quality about him that had nothing to

do with years.

Haunted. Yes. That was it.
Shona remembered the story Effie had told her about the woman he

had loved and who had been shot through the heart.

Perhaps she haunted him still.
“I understand the Dowager Duchess of Gresham has sent you to

see me?” he asked.

“Yes, indeed,” Shona replied. “She informed me that you require

someone who speaks foreign languages. I am proficient in French,
Spanish, Italian and Greek.”

The Marquis smiled faintly.
“That is certainly an admirable collection,” he said. “Only the

Duchess could be clever enough to find someone so talented.”

“I thought perhaps you would be surprised,” Shona answered. “I am

best in French and Greek, but I can also read and write in the other two.”

The Marquis stared at her.
Then he indicated with his hand where she should sit. Shona sat

down on a sofa and immediately realised that the light from the window
was directly on her face.

The Marquis seated himself some distance away from her, in the

shadows of the room. Now he could see her clearly while she had only an
indistinct impression of him.

“How do you come to know all these languages?” he asked.
His voice was deep, and while he sat in the shade it seemed to

come from a deep cavern.

“I have travelled a great deal,” Shona told him.
“With your husband?”
“Yes,” she said, improvising hastily. “He was an ardent traveller and

we visited many places together.”

“Would you be offended if I test your abilities?” he enquired.
“Of course not. I would not expect you to employ me without assuring

yourself that I meet your requirements.”

“Perhaps you could speak to me in Spanish?”
“It is not my favourite language,” Shona replied, in Spanish, “and I do

find the words rather awkward, but I can read and write it as well as
speaking it.”

“And extremely well, if I might say so,” the Marquis answered.
He too spoke in Spanish, although slowly and with hesitation.
He switched to Italian, which he spoke as awkwardly as Spanish.

“Now tell me, in Italian, what you think the weather is like at this moment
in Rome.”

Shona began to talk about Rome, which she had visited with her

father.

She spoke in a way which made it absolutely clear that she not only

knew Rome well, but found the language very easy.

“That is splendid,” the Marquis exclaimed as she finished.
Shona decided to take a risk. “How can you know it was splendid?”

she asked.

“You could barely follow me.”
He sighed ruefully.
“Is it as obvious as that? Well, if you had spoken more slowly, I think

I would have understood better. But you can see now why I need help. I
suppose it’s unnecessary for me to test you with the other languages.”

“I am only too willing to speak them if that is what you wish,” Shona

told him.

“You say you speak Greek. Classical or modern?”
“Both. Do you wish to try me?”
“It would be no use? I would not understand.”
Suddenly he threw himself into another chair and looked at her

intently.

“Tell me about yourself,” he said. “Where is Mr. Winters?”
“He is no longer alive,” Shona replied with composure.
“Do you have any children?”
“No.”
“How old are you.”

Crossing her fingers beneath her skirt, Shona said, “I am thirty-one.”
“When did you marry and how long have you been a widow?”
Shona hesitated. She had anticipated questions, but not such

detailed ones. She did not like having to practise such a deception, but
she had no choice if she was to escape her step-father.

“I was married for ten years,” she said, “and my husband died three

years ago.”

“Then you must have married very young.”
“I was eighteen.”
“What was your husband like?”
“A gentle man and full of learning,” she replied, describing her

father. “He enjoyed teaching, so he tried to teach me everything he
knew.”

“Did you appreciate that?”
“Oh, yes,” she answered with animation. “He was a wonderful

teacher. He could make things live. When he talked, everything was
interesting. He opened my mind and showed me how lovely the world
could be.

“When we visited great historical places, he would take me walking

through the ruins and talk about the people who used to live there.

“That was how I learned about the ancient Romans, the Greek gods,

Spanish musicians and French cuisine.”

Unknown to her a smile had crept over her face as she spoke about

the father she had adored.

“It was so wonderful,” she said softly. “I never thought of life being

any different, but then – ”

“How did he die?” the Marquis asked gently.
“He had a heart attack and died in two hours. There was barely time

to say goodbye. And suddenly all the light and happiness had gone out
of my world. I still miss him terribly.”

When Shona had finished there was a silence. At last she looked up

to find the Marquis regarding her with an odd, puzzled look on his face.

“You must have loved him very much,” he said at last.
“Yes, I did.”
“And yet – forgive me – he sounds as though he must have been a

great deal older than you.”

“We were not of the same age,” she agreed. “But it did not matter.

Why should it?”

“No reason,” he said hastily.
“Perhaps I may now ask some questions of you,” Shona said. “What

would my duties be and why do you require languages? Do you,
perhaps, have an extensive foreign correspondence?”

“I do correspond frequently, but I also travel a great deal. At this

moment I have the idea of writing a book.

“It will be based on my experiences in various countries and my plan

is to return to those countries immediately to gather material.”

“Your butler said that you were planning to go abroad soon,” Shona

observed. “But he did not mention the exact date.”

“That is because I do not yet know it myself. I have been waiting for

the right secretary. Now, I think I have found her. Mrs. Winters, you are
too good to be true.”

Then, in a suddenly decided tone he asked, “Can you leave England

almost immediately?”

Shona drew in her breath.
“At this very moment or in the next day or so?” she enquired.
The Marquis laughed.
“Not quite as quick as this very moment,” he retorted, “but now you

are here I see no need to delay further. I would like to leave tomorrow
morning. Can you manage that?”

“I certainly can,” she replied eagerly, thinking that this might be the

answer to all her prayers.

“There is, of course, one problem,” he admitted slowly. “I am sure

you realise what it is.”

“No, I don’t see – do you think, after all, that I will not suit your

requirements?”

“In many ways you will be perfect. But, I must confess, I had not

planned to employ a woman. We shall be travelling together, living in
each other’s pockets. Tongues will wag.”

“But we won’t be in one place long enough to hear them,” she

pointed out.

“True, but would you not feel happier bringing a female companion?”
“I do not fear scandal, my Lord, and neither should you. I am neither

young nor pretty and nobody should bother about us.”

He gave a slight grin.
“Very well, if you feel so sure, we will take the risk. Can you be here

in time to leave very early in the morning?”

“I can do better,” Shona answered with determination. “I can come

immediately. I will return home now to fetch my luggage and tomorrow we
can leave at dawn if you like.”

“Are you not forgetting something, Mrs. Winters?”
“Am I? What is that?”
“You have not asked what I intend to pay you. I would have thought

that was a very important question.”

This was a dilemma. Shona had no idea what would be the

appropriate salary for such a position.

“Oh, we can talk about that later,” she said airily. “In fact, I am happy

to leave the question of money entirely to you.”

“You are certainly different from any other employee I have ever

known,” the Marquis said quizzically. “I promise to pay you fairly and not
betray the trust you have placed in me.”

He ran a bell on the desk beside him and the butler appeared to

show her out.

At the door Shona looked back to say goodbye, but the Marquis

had already turned away from her into the shadows.

Gathering Effie, who was visibly relieved to see her, Shona hurried

out into the street and managed to secure a cab.

“Is he a monster, miss?” Effie asked breathlessly when they were

moving.

“No,” Shona replied with a little smile. “He is not a monster, but he is

a very unusual man. In fact I have never met anyone quite like him.

“Now, we have to get home, pack, and then leave before the

Colonel can stop us,” she said.

“Where are you going?”
“Back to the Marquis’s house.”
Effie’s eyes popped.
“You’re going to live with him?”
“Not to live with him,” Shona said quickly. “I shall stay under his roof

tonight and then tomorrow we are going abroad.”

Shona frowned as she added, “I have to think of you. I can’t leave

you behind to face the Colonel’s wrath, so we must find a way to get you
out too. If I give you some money for a dowry, can you go to Jimmy?”

“Oh,

yes

, miss.”

As soon as they reached home, they raced upstairs and were lucky

enough to escape detection.

“Get your clothes out,” Shona said impatiently. “And take any of

mine that you want. We are going to swap.”

In a few minutes they had packed two large suitcases.
“Go out and find us a cab,” Shona instructed Effie. “I will be

downstairs in a moment.”

Now came the hard part. Shona knew she could not simply vanish

without a word to her mother, who must not be allowed to worry.

She sat down and wrote her a letter.

“Dearest Mama,
I have decided to go away for a little while. I simply cannot remain

here and allow the Colonel to bully me about getting married.

Please do not worry about me. I have many friends whom I can

visit, and shall probably move around between them. The McPhersons
have often invited me to stay, and I know they would be glad to see me.

The McPhersons lived in Scotland. Without actually saying she was

going there, she had dropped a hint that might send her step-father
chasing north, while she was going south.

She finished the letter,

I will write to you very soon,
All my love, dearest Mama,
Shona.”

She sealed the letter and summoned a footman. When the young

man arrived, she gave him the sealed envelope, with instructions to give
it to her Mama as soon as she awoke.

“Now I need your help getting these cases downstairs,” she said. “I

am sending some of my things to charity and there are rather a lot of
them.”

By the time everything was downstairs, Effie had returned with the

cab. The footman helped her pile the bags in, but looked alarmed when

she climbed in after them.

“But miss, what about one of our own carriages?”
“No time,” she said. “Goodbye.”
Somewhere overhead she heard a window being opened and she

looked out of the cab.

Her step-father was staring down at her, bleary-eyed, as though he

had just arisen from a drunken stupor. When he realised what was
happening, he seemed to wake up with a start.

“Stop!” he called.
“Hurry,” Shona told the cabman. “Get right away from here as fast as

you can.”

The cabman started his horse and in a moment they were turning

the corner.

“Turn another corner, quickly,” she called.
“Anything you say, miss,” said the cabman, gamely trying to keep

up.

Shona’s heart was beating with fear as they twisted this way and

that to escape her step-father. She had no doubt that he would follow her
on horse-back as soon as he could dress.

“Where am I going?” the cabman called desperately.
She gave him the Marquis’s address and then spoke to Effie.
“When I have got out he can take you on to Jimmy. Here’s some

money to pay him and here’s some more money as my wedding gift,
Effie dear.”

“Oh miss!” Effie threw her arms about her mistress’s neck.
Shona hugged her back, hoping her own problems could be solved

just as easily.

At last they drew up outside the Marquis’s house. To Shona’s relief

the door opened and two footmen appeared.

When they had taken down Shona’s luggage, Effie gave the driver a

new address. The two women hugged each other again and the cab
drew away.

The housekeeper greeted Shona, explained that the Marquis had

gone out for awhile and showed her to her room.

It was an elaborate guest room with a huge bed and elegant

decorations. But Shona hardly noticed anything. She paced up and down

in agitation, wishing the time would pass quickly so that she could get
away.

Hours passed and the Marquis did not return. A maid came to say

that her dinner was to be served downstairs.

Shona descended and ate in solitary state, hurrying through the

meal so that she could retire to her room as soon as possible.

Then, as she was drinking her coffee, she heard a noise from the

hall outside. Assuming it was the Marquis, she rose to greet him.

But the man who entered was not the Marquis, although she could

instantly see that they must be related.

He was in his early twenties, with the same tall figure and lean face

as the Marquis. But there was a weakness about his mouth that
detracted from his handsome looks.

“Good evening ma’am,” he said, stopping when he saw Shona. “I

am the Honourable Lionel Hilton, Chilworth’s nephew. And you?”

“My name is Mrs. Winters, and his Lordship has hired me as his

secretary,” she said calmly, preparing to leave.

“Has he? Oh God, that’s dished everything.”
Lionel pulled out a chair and sat down at the table, regarding her.
“You don’t look like a secretary to me,” he announced.
“But I look like one to his Lordship and that is all that counts. Does

that trouble you?”

“The thing is – I was rather hoping to be his secretary myself. It

would just suit me to go on this trip with him.”

He looked at her hopefully, and Shona gathered that she was

expected to abandon her job for his sake. Clearly this spoilt child had
never been denied anything he wanted.

At the same time he was impossible to dislike. His air of being a

confiding puppy was disarming.

“I am sorry to disoblige you sir, but Lord Chilworth has hired me.”
“But you could do something else,” he suggested.
“So could you.”
“Well – actually I am not good for much.”
“Then you will hardly be any use to him as a secretary,” Shona

suggested, amused at her impudence despite herself.

“I don’t suppose there will be very much work involved. I am sure I

could do it.”

“Have you offered your services to Lord Chilworth?”
“Yes.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said nothing on earth would persuade him,” Lionel admitted.

“But I should have so liked to go with him.”

Shona laughed, and said in Spanish, “I am sure you would, but if you

imagine that I am going to stand down for you, you will be disappointed.”

“I say, that wasn’t fair,” he protested.
“You mean, you didn’t understand it.”
“Not a word.”
“Then how would you help him with his travel book?”
“But all this stuff about a travel book is moonshine,” he replied.

“What he is really planning to do is – well, something quite different.”

“His Lordship informed me that he was writing a travel book,” Shona

told him in a discouraging voice. “I have no reason to disbelieve him.”

“But how long have you known him?”
“I met him for the first time today.”
“Then it’s too soon for him to have confided his real purpose. In fact,

I am not certain that he has admitted, even to himself, what he really
means to do.”

Some strange note in the young man’s voice sent a frisson of alarm

through Shona, although she could not have said exactly why.

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked. “You speak as though he is

going to do something terrible.”

“Perhaps he is. I don’t know. The point is, I don’t think he knows

either. He won’t know until the very last minute when – well, it is a very
long story.”

“I am sure it is,” Shona said, beginning to be amused. “It is a long

story, and you need time to think about it.”

He was shocked.
“Anyone would think you didn’t believe me,” he said, aghast.
“Really? What made you think that?” she asked, smiling and

implacable.

“Ah, well,” he sighed. “If you don’t believe me, you don’t.”
“I don’t. I think this whole farrago is a way of putting me off so that I

will give up my job to you. You are wasting your time. Now, if you please, I
would like to go to bed.”

CHAPTER THREE

“Oh, don’t go just yet,” Lionel begged. “Keep me company a while

longer. I don’t enjoy being alone.”

He fetched a glass from a cupboard and filled it from the bottle of

wine that had been opened for Shona. He raised it to her in salute, giving
her his most delightful smile.

She smiled back. He was charming, but she had no intention of

yielding.

She also felt that he had already drunk more than was good for him.
“It is time I was leaving,” she said, rising to her feet.
“Oh, don’t go yet,” he pleaded, rising also to block her path. “Stay

and keep me company.”

“Thank you, no. I wish to retire for the night. His Lordship means to

make an early start.”

“Ah, but perhaps I can persuade you to change your mind about

going.”

“And perhaps you can’t. Please let me pass.”
“You know,” he said, as if he had not heard her, “you are really quite

pretty behind those glasses. I would like to see you without them.”

He reached for her. Shona tried to sidestep but he moved too

swiftly, whisking off her

pince nez

and staring into her face.

“Let me go,” she said, beginning to become annoyed. “You don’t

really mean that,” he said petulantly. “Well, if you don’t get out of my way
now you will discover that I do mean it, and your eyes will water for a
week.”

But this was a mistake. His face lit up, like that of a child, promised

a special treat.

“I say! A challenge! Come on, let’s see who wins.”
He pulled her towards him. His manner was playful rather than

rough, but he was too strong for her.

“Just one little kiss,” he begged, trying to press his lips on hers.
Thoroughly indignant by now, Shona fought him, twisting her head

this way and that in a frantic effort to escape.

She barely heard the door crash open, or the violent oath of the man

who had arrived. But the next moment she felt Lionel plucked from her.

She steadied herself and was in time to see the Marquis shake the

young man hard before thrusting him back against the wall.

“What the devil do you think you are doing?” he raged. “I told you to

stay away from this house.”

“I came to talk to you,” Lionel replied, breathing hard. “To make you

see how unfair you’re being. It should be me going with you.”

“I have told you before, Lionel, you would make a poor hand at the

job. You haven’t the ability with languages that I need. If you had studied
harder at school instead of drinking and keeping low company – “

“Oh, heavens not that again! I like low company. It’s more fun than

the other kind.”

“You’re drunk!”
“Not drunk. Just a little tipsy.”
“How dare you force your way in here and insult a lady,” the Marquis

snapped.

He turned to Shona.
“I can only apologise for – ”
He stopped, as though thunderstruck by what he saw, then quickly

averted his eyes.

Horrified, Shona suddenly became aware that the struggle had

released her hair, and it now hung about her shoulders in glorious waves.
She looked nothing like the plain and dowdy creature she was
pretending to be.

Seeing the dismay in the Marquis’s face, she thought quickly.
“I hope your Lordship does not mean to blame me for this fracas,”

she said as haughtily as she could manage. “I abhor the behaviour of ill-
bred youth – ”

“You cannot call me ill-bred,” Lionel declared, stung. “I am an

‘Honourable’.”

“You most certainly are not. Anyone less honourable I have yet to

meet.”

“That’s not what I – ”
“I know what you meant,” Shona brushed his protest aside, “and it is

a lot of nonsense, calling a man ‘Honourable’ when he has the manners
of a barnyard fowl.”

Unwisely, the Honourable Lionel tried to continue the argument.
“That has nothing to do with it,” he yelped. “Just because they call

you Honourable doesn’t mean you have to – well, it’s how we do things in
England.”

“Then it’s about time England found a better way of behaving,”

Shona informed him sharply. Lionel stared at her, aghast.

“You’re a revolutionary!”

he screamed.

“I am a woman of common sense, and I will tell you this, that when a

system produces such unappealing specimens as yourself, the time has
come to do away with it!”

“You’re a radical. You want to overthrow society!”
“No young man, I do not want to overthrow society.
But overthrowing you is another matter. That I would love to do,

preferably from the top of a very high tower.”

“Next thing you’ll be wanting to throw a bomb at the Queen,” he

gasped.

“Nonsense, why should I? It isn’t the Queen’s fault you are a spoilt

brat.”

“Well, she is his godmother, madam,” observed the Marquis, who

had been observing this exchange with much amusement.

He added, “And she tends to spoil him when they meet, so I

suppose she bears some responsibility. However, I believe bombing
Windsor Castle might be excessive. Suppose I just throw him out?”

“An excellent idea,” Shona agreed.
The next few moments were occupied by the Marquis’s

determination to put this plan into action, and Lionel’s determination to
resist.

The unequal scuffle ended as it was bound to, with the front door

closing behind Lionel’s indignant person.

Shona seized the chance to turn to the mirror and began to sweep

up her hair. She was doing this when the Marquis returned.

She met his eyes in the mirror and read in them something that

made her heart sink. She turned to face him, trying to look calmer than
she felt.

“Mrs. Winters, I apologise for the rude usage to which you have

been subjected in this house,” he began.

“Please think no more of it, my Lord – ”
“I am afraid that I must. Clearly you are younger than you had led me

to believe. I understand your reasons of course – “

“I need this job,” she said desperately.
“I realise that. But you must understand that the two of us cannot

travel alone together. If you cannot provide yourself with a female
companion, then I have no choice but to ask you to leave.”

“Wh-what?”
“I cannot travel with an attractive young female and no chaperone.”
“But I am not attractive,” she said wildly, groping around for her

pince nez

and ramming it onto her nose.

“See! And I am not as young as I look.”
“I have grave doubts on that subject.”
Despair engulfed Shona as she saw all her dreams of escape

coming to nothing.

Where could she go? Back home, to fall into her step-father’s

clutches? She would rather die.

“Lord Chilworth, I beg you not to send me away,” she pleaded. “I

have left – the place where I lived. There is no way back for me.”

“I am sorry. I still want you to work for me, but you cannot come

alone.”

She began to feel desperate and on the verge of hysteria.
“Then one of your own maids – ” she began.
“I am afraid that a maid would not meet the case. To be an effective

chaperone, the lady must be your social equal. An employee, who could
be dismissed, would not do at all. Of course you can remain here for
tonight, but in the morning – ”

His voice, though kindly, was final. Shona’s sensation of

hopelessness became overwhelming.

But then the sound of the doorbell interrupted them.
“If that’s Lionel again – ” the Marquis exclaimed vehemently and

strode to the door, then out into the hall.

Shona followed him and was in time to see the front door opened by

a footman, who immediately backed out of the way of the wailing female
who rushed into the hall.

“

Effie

!” Shona exclaimed.

Effie ran straight into Shona’s arms, sobbing wildly.
“What is it, my dear?” Shona asked. “You were going to Jimmy.

Wasn’t he there?”

“Oh, yes he was there, the wicked, ungrateful lout, the rotten,

suspicious – ”

She carried on in this way at length. Shona could not catch every

word, but she gathered that Jimmy had committed some terrible,
unforgivable offence.

“Let me stay with you,” Effie begged. “Don’t send me away.”
“This lady is known to you?” the Marquis asked, watching them.
“Yes, she – ” Shona was about to say that Effie was her maid when

inspiration came to her.

“She is my close friend,” she said. “Until recently we lived under the

same roof and are almost like sisters.”

“Then our problem seems to be solved,” he observed.
It was true, Shona realised. Heaven had answered her prayers in

the most unexpected manner.

“If I may speak to her alone for a moment,” she said, drawing Effie

back into the dining room.

When the door was safely closed, she poured Effie a glass of wine

and sat her down.

“What happened?” she asked.
“That Jimmy is the nastiest, most evil – ”
“Yes, I know about that,” Shona said hurriedly, “but what did he

actually do?”

“It was those clothes you gave me, miss. When he saw them he

wanted to know how I came to own anything so fine.”

“But he has seen you in my clothes before.”
“Not as fine as this. That blue ball-gown – well, his eyes nearly

popped out. He said I must have a lover – you know, the sort of man who
buys girls expensive clothes.”

She gave a loud wail.

“He said I must have done something wicked,” she wept. “Oh, Effie, I

am so sorry. I would never have thought of anything like this.”

“What I am going to do, miss?”
“You are going to stay with me and come abroad.”
“

What

?”

“I need a chaperone and Lord Chilworth will not take me without

one. But he says she cannot be a maid. A chaperone has to be a social
equal.”

Effie’s eyes were popping out of her head.
“So you must stop calling me ‘miss’,” Shona hurried on. “I am Mrs.

Winters, and you are – your last name is Jakes, isn’t it? Then you are
Miss Jakes. And we call each other by our first names.”

“I cannot do that, miss,” Effie gasped, scandalised.
“If you don’t, I am lost,” Shona stated firmly. “Very well, miss –

madam – ”

“Shona,” she said firmly.
Effie nodded reluctantly.
“Good. And you have your passport?” Shona asked, thanking

Heaven for the number of times Effie had travelled with her.

“Oh, yes. When I packed I knew I wasn’t going back.”
“Now come and meet the Marquis.”
They found him in the library and Shona introduced her ‘friend’,

thankful that Effie was wearing the clothes that she had given her and
she really did look a lady in them.

Effie was nervous, but shrewd enough to keep her replies to a

minimum and when he learned that she was prepared to come with
them, the Marquis seemed satisfied.

“Effie can share my room,” Shona said. “And I think we should go to

bed now, to be ready early in the morning.”

The huge bed was more than big enough for both of them, and she

wanted to keep Effie close, so that she did not lose her nerve. And she
still had a great deal to tell her.

It took an hour to explain everything and by then they were both

nodding off, worn out by the excitements of the day.

*

They left early next morning, although still not as early as Shona

would have liked. The Marquis’s carriage rumbled away from the door at
precisely eight o’clock, heading for Waterloo Station.

At the station they boarded the train to Dover. As it pulled out of the

station, Shona sent up a heartfelt prayer of relief that she had not been
caught so far.

Surely, now, she was safe?
But she would feel even safer when they had set sail.
“I cabled my Captain yesterday afternoon, telling him to have

everything ready for our departure,” the Marquis said as they sat side by
side in the carriage. “So we should be able to sail almost at once.”

He seemed to speak with an effort. He had said very little so far and

his face was pale and drawn. There were black smudges under his eyes,
as though he had slept badly that night.

They were alone in the carriage as Effie had gone to stand in the

corridor.

“Is your yacht very large?” Shona enquired at last, for something to

say.

“I must confess that it is more of a steamer than a yacht. It has the

very latest engines and all modern comforts,” he replied.

“Do you have a detailed itinerary?”
“First we cross to Calais, but not to remain for very long. There is a

place I wish to visit.”

“You mean to include it in your book?” she asked.
There was a short silence before the Marquis said, “No, I shall not

include this place in my book. I have – other reasons.”

Shona felt the sensation of having a door slammed in her face.

Unwillingly she recalled what Lionel had said and wondered if there
could be something in it after all.

But it would be absurd to believe anything told her by that silly boy.
Nor did she have the right to question the Marquis.
After some moments silence, he said as if he could read her

thoughts,

“Are you being tactful or are you simply not interested in my

reasons?”

Shona smiled.

“I was behaving as I thought I ought to behave,” she replied. “Or, to

put it simply, how you would expect me to behave. It is surely wrong for
me to appear too curious, but it is very difficult when one is with
someone one does not know, not to be curious.”

The Marquis laughed.
“You have put it excellently and exactly what I might have expected

you to say,” he said. “How is it possible that you are so different, not only
from anyone I have ever employed, but from anyone I have met?”

“I don’t know about different,” she said. “But if I have learnt one thing

it is that we should take life one day at time, even perhaps one moment
at a time. Making plans is futile, because we never know what life is
going to throw at us.”

The Marquis stared at her.
“Yes,” he said shortly. “That is what I have learnt too.”
Suddenly his face turned very pale, even ravaged. Shona

remembered the word that had occurred to her at their first meeting.

Now he looked more haunted than ever.
“You seem to know a great deal about life,” he said.
“All I know is that there are only two wise ways of tackling a difficult

situation,” she said. “I either keep quiet or run away.”

The Marquis smiled.
“Shall I guess what you are doing at the moment?” he asked.
“If you would like to,” Shona replied.
“I think you are running away,” he said. “I do not know why I should

think it, but it somehow seems strange that you appeared just when I
needed you.”

Shona said nothing. She knew she must be very cautious about

what she said.

“Strangest of all,” the Marquis continued, “is the fact that you were

ready to leave London without, apparently, saying goodbye to anyone.”

He paused before he added,
“As you are so young – younger than you want me to believe – there

must be a number of people willing to bid you farewell.”

There was silence for a moment.
Then Shona admitted,
“Very well, I

am

running away. When I heard that you needed

someone to go abroad with you, I felt it was the answer to my problem
when I least expected it.”

He looked at her curiously.
“And are you going to tell me what your problem is?”
She shook her head.
“One day I would like to tell you the whole story,” she said. “But not

now.”

“You are right. We are strangers. But I have the oddest feeling that

we will not always be strangers.”

Shona’s heart skipped a beat. How odd that he should put into

words her own feelings. She too sensed that one day they might not be
strangers.

“Perhaps you will tell me then,” he added.
“And perhaps not,” she said, looking at him evenly. “We had better

not ask each other too many questions, my Lord”.

“Again you are right. We are both taking a step into the unknown

and we each have our reasons for doing so. You must keep your secret
and I will keep mine.”

He hesitated before adding,
“Yet some day we will find it impossible not to tell each other what

we are thinking and what we are feeling, as we leave England behind
and start on a journey into a new and unknown venture. It may of course
not be as successful as we hope it will be.”

“It has to be successful,” Shona exclaimed emphatically.
“You say that very intensely. Is it that important to you?”
“Yes, it is that important,” she responded fervently. “When we leave

these shores, all the difficulties, the troubles and the questions we do not
want to answer will be left behind.

“Just as you have some secret purpose, so do I. I will not ask you

any difficult questions and I do not want you to ask me any. I will only say
that I am running from danger, but also seeking something – just as you
are.”

The Marquis stared at her.
Then he asked sharply, “How on earth do you know that?”
Startled by the look on his face she faltered,
“Why, I – I meant your book. You must be seeking many things to

write about.”

“You meant more than that. How on earth did you know that I – ?”
“I know nothing,” she said hurriedly. “I was talking generally.”
The look in his eyes told her that he was not fooled, but to her great

relief he let the matter drop.

Shona wondered what had possessed her to speak in such a way.

She had dismissed Lionel’s strange words as meaningless. Or at least,
she tried to believe that she had.

Yet still they troubled her.

“I am not certain that he has admitted, even to himself, what he

really means to do – he won’t know until the very last minute – ”

What had Lionel meant? And did it have anything to do with that

tense look that had come over the Marquis’s face?

She would have given a lot to know the answer.

*

From Dover Station it was a short carriage journey to where the

Marquis’s yacht was berthed. Shona looked eagerly out of the window,
rejoicing at the sight of the sea.

“How beautiful it is in the sunshine!” she exclaimed.
“You love the sea?” he asked. “Do you know it well?”
“I have always loved it,” Shona replied. “I went on my first voyage

with my father when I was only five.”

She sighed with happy memories.
“I remember how excited I was and how I thought the ship was so

perfect, and so different from anything I had known before, that it must
have come down from Heaven itself.”

“I only hope you will think the same about my yacht,” the Marquis

said. “I designed it myself and I feel very comfortable in it.”

“And that is most important,” Shona agreed.
Soon his yacht came into sight. It was beautiful and well-appointed,

and looked, as he had promised, very comfortable.

The Captain had everything ready for them. Their bags were carried

on board and Shona and Effie were shown to the cabin they were to
share.

It was large and luxuriously decorated with two narrow but

comfortable beds. As they unpacked their bags Shona felt inwardly
tense, waiting for the moment when they would cast off and she could
begin to feel safe.

And then it happened.
There were cries from the sailors on deck, the clank of chains, the

whistle blowing and they began to move.

Only when she felt the waves and heard their splash against the

yacht, did she realise that they were leaving England and her problems
behind and being carried safely into the English Channel.

‘I am now free,’ she thought.
She felt too excited to stay in the cabin and hurried up on deck, to

stand by the rail, watching the white cliffs of Dover recede.

“What are you thinking?” asked a voice unexpectedly beside her.
It was the Marquis. She had been so absorbed that she had not

noticed him join her.

“I am thinking that I am free and that this is the most exciting

adventure that has happened to me for a very long time. I think your yacht
is perfect”

“Good. That was how I intended people to feel when I designed her.

The builders thought I was slightly mad and argued with me, saying that
what I wanted was impossible.”

“But of course you got your own way,” Shona said. “I suppose you

always do.”

“Not always,” he replied, suddenly sombre. “No matter how rich and

powerful a man thinks he is, he can suddenly find himself helpless in the
hands of a cruel fate. And then everything that he thought would make
him invincible turns out to be just an illusion.”

Shona stared.
“I do not understand.”
“No matter,” he said, recovering himself with an effort. “You were not

really meant to.”

Something drove her to persist.
“But how can I be a useful secretary if I don’t understand?”
“I will tell you as much as I can about myself, but some things must

remain hidden,” he dropped his voice, “not only from your eyes, but from

the world’s.”

He saw her watching him with a little frown and said sharply,
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“I – I don’t know what you mean?” she stammered.
“Like what?”
“As though you would look into my soul,” he said, sounding strangely

quiet and yet forceful at the same time.

“I am sorry,” she said quickly, turning away. “I did not mean to pry.”
“There are times when you must not ask me questions,” he said, in

the same tone of voice. “There are things that I forbid you to ask. You will
learn soon enough what they are.

“Do not rouse me to anger. I warn you, never, never do that. It is

more than I can bear.”

Shona looked at him in astonishment.
Why should his own anger be more than he could bear?
But already she partly knew the answer. Standing so close to him by

the rail she could feel the strong feelings radiating from him. They were
powerful, almost violent, as though their very strength might tear him
apart.

“Forgive me,” she said gently, laying her hand on his arm.
Then she found strange words coming from her heart.
“Trust me. I will never do anything to hurt you.”
There was relief in his eyes as he laid his hand over hers.
“I do trust you,” he said. “I do not know why I should, after such a

short acquaintance. But something tells me that I can put my faith in you.”

Shona trembled at the sensation of his fingers holding hers, and felt

the steely power in his hands.

They were the hands of an aristocrat, manicured, almost artistic,

with long, slender fingers that spoke of ease and elegance.

But there was something else, something that was neither artistic

nor cultured. Beneath his soft voice and fine clothes, this man was utterly
ruthless and as dangerous as a wild animal.

Then he released her and the sensation passed. She might have

imagined it.

But she knew better. What she had felt in those few blinding

moments had been no imagination.

This was indeed a haunted man – haunted by secrets that he could

tell nobody.

She had thought she was merely taking a trip across Europe.
Now she knew that she had stepped out into the unknown.

CHAPTER FOUR

“Now let me show you the rest of the yacht,” the Marquis offered,

leading the way.

Together they went below. Shona was not surprised to find that here

was a very comfortable sitting room, which the Marquis told her was
where they would work.

It was spacious and airy with several bookshelves. By the porthole

was a desk, which she hoped would be hers.

Almost as if she had asked the question aloud, the Marquis said,
“That is for you. It is here you will write down the words of wisdom

which I hope will fall from my lips. You will also sit here to transcribe the
notes you will take when we are exploring together.”

“And there’s a typewriter!” Shona exclaimed in great excitement. “I

have heard of these marvellous machines, but have never seen one
before.”

The typewriter was an American invention and had caused a great

deal of excitement and publicity all over the world.

The machine had been introduced into England a year or two

earlier.

“It was given to me by an American friend,” the Marquis told her. “He

said it was the very latest model straight from the factory.”

“This will be a great deal easier than having to write everything

down,” Shona said. “I am certain that, rather like playing the piano, I will
soon learn to use it quickly.”

It was ugly and when she touched the keys she found it very noisy.

Nonetheless, she felt a thrill at using the most modern machine that she
had ever known. It was like touching the future.

“Have you planned the route, yet?” she asked, sitting at her desk

and exploring the drawers. “Are we exploring new cities or returning to
the places you have seen before?”

“We start at Calais,” he replied, “which is a place which I have

already visited. “We will dock there tonight and sleep onboard.
Tomorrow – well, we will let tomorrow take care of itself.”

“It depends on what we find in Calais,” Shona agreed. “Think how

many more people are travelling now that we have railways! What must
life have been like before they were invented? People could not go from
place to place nearly as easily as they can now. And the new travellers
will all be waiting to read your book.

“So I think you need to be practical and explain places like ports and

railway stations, for some of them will never have travelled before.”

The Marquis smiled.
“You are having some very good ideas. How was I so lucky as to

find you?”

“I think I found

you

,” she answered gently. “When I heard that you

wanted someone like me, it was like receiving a message from Heaven
itself, and I merely followed what I was told to do.”

“Your problem must be a very serious one for you to think like that,”

he said gravely.

“Yes, it is.”
For a moment she thought he was going to ask her more questions,

but he only said,

“Perhaps you would like to return to your cabin now. We will be

having dinner soon and I shall look forward to seeing Miss Jakes.”

Effie was understandably nervous about dining with the Marquis, but

Shona promised to look after her. Effie’s confidence was raised by the
sight of herself looking delightful in an elegant blue gown belonging to
Shona.

In keeping with her character, Shona decided to wear a plain dark

dress for dinner, with a cameo at the throat as the only decoration.

When she had scraped her hair back severely and set the

pince nez

on her nose, she was ready to make her appearance.

She felt a pang at not being able to look her best, especially when

she saw the Marquis, elegantly attired in his dinner jacket.

She had a sudden vision of how well they could have looked

together. She wondered if he would have admired her, if she looked as
she usually did, and found that it was important to her to know.

The ship was just docking at Calais as they went up on deck

together. The three of them stood by the rail, watching the routine, the
sailors scurrying back and forth.

“I have always loved this part,” Shona sighed. “The whole adventure

stretches before us and who knows what will happen next?”

“You must have sailed into many ports with your husband,” the

Marquis observed. “Did he share your excitement?”

“Oh yes,” Shona answered, thinking of dear Papa. “We would stand

by the rail together and he would point things out, so that I missed
nothing. He always had something new and interesting to say.”

Her eyes shone with the memory. Then her happiness was followed

by a moment’s sadness as she thought how those days were gone
forever.

The Marquis watched her, reading her expression with tolerable

accuracy and wondering what sort of man her husband had been to
inspire such devotion.

She had assumed her severe look again, but he could not forget the

brief glimpse he had seen of her glorious hair, falling about her
shoulders.

He r

pince nez,

too, had been missing, revealing her face to be

young and beautiful.

But she had seized the first chance to hide herself again. It was as

though she was telling the world that she was no longer a woman and
cared nothing for the admiration of men, because all love was dead for
her.

This was something he understood.
All love was dead for him too.
But surely, reasoned a voice inside him that he could not silence,

she was too young to make such a bleak resolution? Then he
remembered the day when he had realised that in future his life must be
lived without love, without warmth and without hope.

It had been exactly twelve years, four months, two weeks and three

days ago.

On that day everything had stopped for him, so he felt he understood

Shona’s feelings now.

The steward came to say that dinner was served and the Marquis

led the two ladies below to the dining room.

It was as elegantly appointed as any dining room on land could

possibly have been. Waiters appeared, serving wine.

Effie was wide-eyed at the prospect of a treat that did not normally

come her way. At the same time, she was on hot coals lest she make
some kind of slip.

To assist her, Shona did most of the talking, chattering about the

forthcoming book and encouraging the Marquis to talk about it.

Effie finally summoned up the courage to address a question to her

host.

“Have you written a book before?” she asked politely.
“I have written articles on hunting and shooting,” he told her. “I wrote

them anonymously and several people mentioned how good they were,
which encouraged me. Eventually I determined to write a travel book
about the places I had visited and to try to show them in a new light. Do
you enjoy travelling, Miss Jakes?”

“Oh, yes, very much,” she answered with perfect truth. As Shona’s

maid she had often accompanied her on her journeys with her father.

“Where have you been?”
Sensing danger Shona said quickly, “Effie and I have been friends

for a long time. She has often travelled with me.”

“On the journeys that you took with your husband?”
Effie was looking nervous, sensing that the ground might open

beneath her feet at any moment.

And then something happened that drove everything else from their

minds.

From deep in the ship came a shout. Then another shout in a

different voice.

There was the thunder of agitated footsteps, and somebody roared,

“Let go of me!”

The Marquis rose to his feet, his brow darkened.
“I do not believe what I am hearing,” he said slowly. “Surely this is

impossible – ”

The next moment the door burst open and the Captain could be

seen struggling with the figure of a young man.

“A stowaway, my Lord,” he said breathlessly. “I have only just caught

him.”

“Get your hands off my collar,” roared his victim, struggling mightily.
“Let him go,” the Marquis ordered in a disgruntled voice.
“He may be a desperate character,” the Captain puffed.
“He is a desperate character,” the Marquis snapped. “He is also,

unfortunately, a relative of mine. Damn you, Lionel! What do you think you
are doing here?”

A transformation had come over the Marquis. His voice was

savage, his face contorted and he seemed possessed by fury.

Nothing else, Shona was certain, would have made him swear in

front of the ladies.

The Honourable Lionel Hilton finally managed to free himself from

the Captain’s hold and stand upright. The struggle had left him
dishevelled but still belligerent.

“I just hopped aboard,” Lionel admitted with an attempt at

insouciance. “I thought you might have some use for me.”

“You thought no such thing,” the Marquis raged. “I told you I did not

want you on this voyage, and I still don’t. You have no right to disobey me
and if you thought to persuade me by these methods, you know nothing
about me.”

“But I can be so useful to you.”
“As what?” the Marquis demanded scathingly. “A cabin boy? You

are useless. You will come no further with me. You will take a passage on
the first boat back to England.”

“I haven’t any money.”
“I will pay your passage,” the Marquis snapped savagely. “Just get

out of my sight and stay out. Otherwise I’ll toss you overboard.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Lionel responded in a wheedling voice.

“Think of the scandal. I am your heir, after all.”

“Yes, you are, Heaven help me! I mean what I say. You will go back

to England tomorrow.”

“Actually that might be a bit difficult – the thing is, I need to be

absent for a while, if you know what I mean.”

“You owe money I suppose?” the Marquis asked in disgust.
He ran his hand through his hair. He was seemingly calmer now.

Shona could sense that his anger still seethed, but he was restraining

himself.

But why? she wondered. Why such anger just because the silly boy

had played a prank? “We will talk again tomorrow,” he said wearily.

“Of course, of course,” Lionel replied. “I will just put my things in the

Neptune cabin – “

“That is already occupied by my secretary and her companion. By

the way, Miss Jakes, allow me the dubious pleasure of presenting my
nephew, the Honourable Lionel Hilton.”

Lionel had already fixed his eyes on Effie with blatant admiration.
“Your servant, ma’am,” he said, taking her hand and bowing low

over it.

The word ‘servant’ was an unfortunate choice as it reminded Effie of

the reality of her situation and made her blush. But the blush only made
her prettier.

“Behave yourself,” the Marquis adjured him sharply. “These ladies

are under my protection. Neither one of them would have boarded this
ship had they known you were to be here.

“Which raises the question of how you managed to smuggle yourself

on board,” he added, eyeing his Captain with disfavour. “Somebody
must have been careless.”

The Captain started to mumble excuses but the Marquis cut him

short.

“No matter. I dare say it was not your fault. He slithers here and there

like a snake. Just have his possessions transferred to the Trident cabin
– ”

“But that’s a dingy little place,” Lionel began to protest. “Why can’t I

have the Neptune cabin?”

“Because, as I have already informed you, it is occupied by the

ladies.”

“But they could move.”
“They are not going to move. Lionel, let me make myself plain. You

will either do as I tell you, or I will throw you over the side and enjoy doing
it. Now shut up, sit down, eat something, and don’t speak unless you are
spoken to.”

After such an interruption, it was an uncomfortable meal, despite

Lionel’s efforts to charm the ladies. Nothing would have made Shona

find him charming, but he put himself out to impress Effie, who
blossomed prettily at his attentions.

“We will retire now as it is getting late,” Shona declared at last,

rising to her feet.

“So soon?” Lionel wailed pathetically. “Oh, please don’t go.”
“Be quiet!” the Marquis snapped.
“Goodnight gentlemen,” Shona said, leading Effie from the room.
But she would have given a great deal to know what the two men

said to each other when they were alone.

*

In the early hours of the morning Shona awoke. Effie was sleeping

soundly and she was able to slip out of bed without disturbing her.

Through the porthole she could just make out that the dawn was

beginning to break. Her clock told her that it was four in the morning.

She was too excited at the thought of going ashore to return to bed.

So she threw on a light dressing-gown over her night-dress, and slipped
out into the corridor.

As she passed the Marquis’s cabin she moved very quietly, so as

not to risk disturbing him.

And then she heard something that made her pause.
From behind his door came the sound of footsteps. They moved

forward several paces, stopped, moved on again, stopped and moved
on again.

Now she realised that the Marquis was pacing the floor of his cabin,

up and down, back and forth, restlessly and endlessly.

He paused suddenly, close to the door, and she slipped hurriedly

away. It would never do to let him find her outside his cabin.

There was nobody to see her tip-toe along the corridor and up to the

deck. Somewhere, she knew, there would still be crew members on duty,
but she could see no sign of them and she was free to enjoy the blessed
peace of the dawn.

Calais lay silent before her. She pictured the town as it would be in

a few hours time, full of hustle and bustle. Already she could make out
one or two figures, creeping about in the half-light.

Shona stood at the rail for a long time, thinking about the incredible

gamble that she was taking. It seemed so strange to her that it had
worked out this way and that she should have encountered a man like the
Marquis.

He was certainly not the monster of Effie’s fevered imagination, but

he was like no other man she had ever met. Mystery seemed to surround
him and when he looked at her she was aware of a strange
contradiction.

Sometimes his gaze seemed to be inviting her into his confidence,

saying that there were things only the two of them could understand.

Yet at the next moment he was shutting her out, speaking curtly,

forbidding her to approach further.

Which, she wondered, was the reflection of his true feeling?
And why did she care how he felt?
She turned her inner eyes away from that question. She was not

ready to answer it.

The light was gaining in strength all the time. She realised that she

had been on deck for nearly an hour and it was now time to return below.

She slipped down the stairs. As she neared the Marquis’s cabin

she slowed down and then she heard the sounds again.

He was still pacing the floor, back and forth, up and down, exactly as

he had been doing an hour ago.

How long had he been in this state, Shona wondered, moving like a

restless, caged beast that sought to outrun its torment, but never could,
because there was no way out of its prison?

If only she could knock and enter and he could tell her what was

making him so wretched.

But she knew she could never do that. In fact, even her presence

would feel like an invasion to him.

She crept quietly away.

*

Breakfast was a subdued meal. Lionel had already been put to work

under the Captain’s eye, with strict instructions that he was not to be
allowed off the ship.

“I am afraid you will be left alone this morning,” the Marquis said to

Effie. “My secretary and I need to work.”

“I have some sewing to do,” Effie replied quickly.
‘Now there was only the passport problem to overcome,’ Shona

thought apprehensively.

When she met the Marquis on deck, she asked him casually,
“Would you like to give me your passport, my Lord, so that your

secretary can do the talking – her French being a little better than yours?”

“Her French being a great deal better than mine,” he replied with a

grin, giving her his papers.

But as she stepped off the gangway she missed her footing and fell

heavily to the ground. Both passports ended up on the flagstones, and it
was only the Marquis’s quick thinking that saved them from going over
the side into the water.

“Forgive me,” he said, helping her to her feet. “No doubt it would

have been more gallant of me to seize hold of you first – ”

“More gallant and more disastrous,” she replied, laughing ruefully.

“We could not afford to lose those passports.”

She rubbed her knees, saying, “I do not know how I came to be so

clumsy.”

“Perhaps it is because you cannot see where you aregoing,” the

Marquis said, gently removing her

pince nez

. “There, isn’t that better?”

“Well, I – ”
“Admit it, you couldn’t see through them properly. They are just a

stage ‘prop’ to make me think you are older than you really are.”

Shona nodded.
“Then put them away and don’t let me see them again, otherwise,

there is no knowing what strange places you will lead me to. And do not
worry. I promise not to offend you by improper advances.”

Shona gasped.
“But I never thought – that is, of course I was concerned about the

proprieties, but – you must not think – ”

“I am not sure what to think, except that you obviously do not feel that

you can trust me to behave like a gentleman.”

To her dismay Shona could feel herself blushing.
“You are mistaken, my Lord,” she said hurriedly. “I trust you

completely. Shall we hurry now or the day will be gone?”

The Marquis accompanied Shona to the Customs Office and stood

a little way behind her, as she handed in their passports, talking quietly
and rapidly, so that he would not notice that she was Mademoiselle
Winterton, instead of Madame Winters.

To her relief, she got away with it. The gendarme at the desk

glanced briefly at their papers, nodded and handed them back to her.

“Now, where do we go to in Calais?” she asked.
“I want to visit a little church,” was his unexpected reply.
He handed her a piece of paper on which the address was already

written. Shona recognised the area, a countrified district on the edge of
Calais.

A free cab was passing. She hailed it and showed the driver the

piece of paper. But he shook his head.

“I cannot take you there,” he said in French. “It does not exist.”
“But surely,” she protested, “it must exist.”
He shook his head.
“There is no such place.”
“Is he saying what I think?” the Marquis asked.
“He says there is no such place,” Shona told him.
“Then he is a liar and a fool,” he exclaimed in sudden rage. “I know

that it does exist.” Shona was startled. What could there be in this
situation to make him lose his temper? Quickly she spoke to the cab-
driver again.

“My employer asks you to reconsider,” she said politely. “He is sure

that this church does exist.”

“Not any more,” the driver explained. “There was a fire. Now it is just

a ruin.”

Shona relayed this information to the Marquis, saw his shoulders

sag and a look of despair come over his face.

“Tell him to take us there anyway,” he said.
She passed on this message, which puzzled the driver.
“It is a pile of blackened stones,” he protested.
Sensing the man’s refusal, the Marquis became more enraged and

muttered, “Tell him to stop arguing and do as he is told.”

Shona did so. The driver shrugged as if to say that these were mad

people and the two of them climbed into the carriage.

Once they were seated inside, she ventured to say, “My Lord, is

there any point to this? You can hardly direct your readers to a church
that doesn’t exist any more. Would it not be better – ?”

“When I wish for your opinion I will ask for it,” he responded harshly.
Aghast, she fell silent.
After a moment she felt his hand reach out and take hers.
“Forgive me,” he said contritely. “I had no right to speak to you like

that. I shall rely on you in most things, but in this matter you cannot advise
me.”

“It is of no importance,” she assured him.
He gave her hand a squeeze but then, sensing constraint in her

manner, he let go, and they did not speak again for a while.

At last the scenery changed, the buildings became less frequent.

Now they were in the country, travelling down winding lanes between tall
trees.

“I think we should arrive soon,” Shona suggested.
When he did not answer, she looked at him and saw that he was

sitting with his head sunk, as though crushed by a weight too great to
endure.

Her conviction was growing that he was not sightseeing, but

returning to a place that had great meaning for him.

Whatever that meaning was, it filled him with suffering. And he could

not avoid it.

And so he drove himself on to face his nightmare, with a look of

torment on his face that made her want to reach out and comfort him.

But her instinct told her that this was a man beyond comfort.

CHAPTER FIVE

At last the cab drew to a halt.
“This is it,” the driver called. When the Marquis did not move, Shona

laid her hand on his arm. He seemed to rouse himself reluctantly from a
dream.

Together they climbed down into the road and walked slowly

towards what was left of the church.

It had been a small building, Shona could see, and must once have

been very charming. Now it was only a blackened ruin, with just one wall
left standing.

It was still possible to make out where the pews had been. Parts of

them remained, no more than crumbling stumps, facing the crumbling
wall, before which the altar must have stood.

Shona could not imagine what there was here that the Marquis

should take a long journey to see.

He seemed to have drifted back to his dream, slowly walking down

the aisle in the direction of the altar, his eyes fixed on the wall with its
gothic shaped holes where the stained glass windows had been.

Then a voice asked, in French,
“Can I help you?”
Shona turned to see a plump little man, shabbily dressed, giving her

a friendly smile.

“My friend wanted to see the church,” she explained. “We did not

know that it had been burned down.”

It was as though she had touched a trigger. Instantly the man threw

up his hands in horror and began to talk at great speed. Shona listened
intently, only just managing to keep up.

The Marquis noticed them and came to stand beside her.
“What is he saying?” he asked.
“His name is Pierre, and he is telling me about the fire,” Shona said,

trying to talk and listen at the same time.

“What happened?”
“It was about twelve years ago. He was working in the graveyard,

when he saw a young couple arrive – they were eloping and they wanted
to be married quickly.

“He was called in to be a witness. He says he had never seen a

couple so much in love, as though the whole world belonged to them.”

“Yes,” the Marquis whispered. “Yes.”
“And then, a few hours after they had departed, another man

arrived,” Shona said. “He was pursuing them. When he learned that they
had married in the church, he said that this would be the last marriage
that ever took place here.

Then he set fire to it.”
“Dear God!” the Marquis whispered.
“There were no lives lost,” Shona said, translating fast.
“But the church burned to the ground and, just as he said, there have

been no more marriages.”

“What did this man look like?” the Marquis asked sharply.
“Like the devil,” Shona said, translating. “He had a long, thin face

and sandy hair.”

Pierre spoke again.
“He says, since the fire he just tends to the graveyard,” Shona

explained. “It’s the only job he can do now that his sight is failing.”

“What can he see?”
“Very little,” she said after relaying the question. “He can make out

light and shape, but not the details of people.”

It seemed to her that the Marquis relaxed a little.
He took a gold coin from his pocket and put it into Pierre’s hand.

“What more does he remember about that day?” he asked curtly. “I want
to hear everything.”

Pierre turned the coin over between his fingers.
“Her hair was gold,” he recalled. “I saw it shining in the sun as they

ran into the church, hand in hand.

“Her name was Angela. I heard him say that she had been named

after the angels. She could not have been more than eighteen. He might
have been twenty-two. They were like two children.”

“Yes,” said the Marquis in a low voice.
“They laughed. It was an adventure for them. They were in a hurry

because the other man was in pursuit, but still they laughed. They were
together, you see, and that was all they needed.”

Shona translated this for the Marquis, who stood stock-still and

dreadfully pale.

“You never saw two people so much in love,” Pierre sighed. “It was

as though they had found the everlasting secret of life that would keep
them safe forever.

“I think about them sometimes, wondering what happened to them

after they left and whether the man who burned the church ever caught up
with them. One thing I know. Their love survived. Love like that can never
die.”

He was speaking very slowly now and Shona guessed that even the

Marquis could understand his meaning. His face was livid.

“You are right,” he said. “Love can never die.”
He turned and began to walk away.
“Were they friends of his?” Pierre asked.
“Yes,” Shona agreed sadly. “I rather think that they were.”
Pierre returned to his work. Shona stayed where she was, her eyes

fixed on the Marquis.

He returned to his earlier position, walking slowly down the aisle in

the direction of what had been the altar.

There he stopped, and for a moment Shona saw a vision of a young

man, standing side by side with the woman he adored, whose golden
hair shone in the sun. He was united to her by a love so strong that it was
like a talisman between them.

Two children, brave enough for anything, because a love like theirs

could never die.

‘And it

has

never died,’ Shona thought, looking at the man standing

alone, bleak and desolate in his isolation.

Watching him, Shona felt a chill wind blow through her heart.
Something told her that if he was condemned to live the rest of his

life in this lonely desert, then she too might know nothing but loneliness,
all her days.

*

They arrived back at the ship to find that everything was ready for

departure.

The Marquis consulted with his Captain, and within an hour they had

cast off, heading for the Bay of Biscay, and then on to Gibraltar.

Effie described in vivid detail how Lionel had tried to leave the ship

and had been forcibly restrained by the Captain. The ensuing row might
have taken a nasty turn.

“But I told him to behave himself,” Effie said. “I thought he wasn’t

going to take any notice of me, but he did. And after that he was as nice
as pie. He is a good lad, as long as you don’t stand for his nonsense.”

“I am sure the Marquis will be relieved to hear it,” said Shona,

smiling.

“Did you go anywhere interesting?”
“To a little church just outside Calais. The Marquis had a most

particular reason for visiting it. Effie, I am beginning to think that some of
the things you told me were not so far-fetched after all.”

“You mean he really is a monster?”
“Not a monster, but a man obsessed who can find no peace.”
“Because of her?”
“Her?” Shona echoed, a little sharply.
“His slain beloved,” Effie replied with relish.
Shona hated that expression. It made the Marquis sound like a

character in a cheap melodrama. It did not do justice to the living,
suffering man she had seen today, compulsively retracing his steps to
the place where he had known brief happiness.

She did not see the Marquis for the rest of the day. At supper time

she and Effie joined Lionel in the dining room, to be informed by the
steward that his Lordship was dining alone in his cabin.

The meal was excellent. Lionel and Effie seemed to have become

good friends and with her he was certainly on his best behaviour.

But Shona could not enjoy herself. Her thoughts were with the man

sitting alone, brooding in his silent cabin.

She spent the rest of the evening on the deck, listening to the wind

and the waves.

They were moving fast now, ploughing their way through an

increasingly choppy sea.

When she finally went below, Effie was just getting ready for bed.

They bade each other an affectionate goodnight.

It was hours before Shona could sleep and then she dozed fitfully

before waking again.

After a while she rose and put on a shawl, slipping out into the

corridor and heading for the Marquis’s cabin.

It might be shockingly improper, but she had to know that he was all

right.

Outside his door she paused, listening for the obsessive footsteps

that she had heard last night. But there was no sound.

She was just thinking that she could safely leave when the air was

rent by a howl. Her blood froze as the desolate sound howled on and on.
An animal caught in a trap might have sounded very similar.

Without thinking any further, Shona pushed open the door and

entered, locking it behind her, lest anyone else should come.

The Marquis was in his bed, tossing and turning and crying out.
Shona approached him, half afraid that he would be angry when he

saw who it was. But then she realised that he was still asleep, trapped in
his nightmare.

Softly she approached him and sat down on the bed, reaching out

tentatively to touch him.

At once he seized her hands in a grip so fierce that she almost cried

out. But she managed to bite back the sound, unwilling to wake him.

“Where are you?” he whispered hoarsely. “Where are you? I can’t

see you?”

“And yet I am here,” she said, speaking cautiously.
“You are always here,” he rasped in the same hoarse voice. “Always

here, in my heart, in my thoughts. All these years your spirit has never left
me.”

Shona trembled as she realised for whom his words were really

meant.

She did not know what came over her to make her answer as she

did, but some deep instinct caused her to say softly, “If you know I am
here, you do not need to see me.”

The effect of her voice was instantaneous. He ceased his

restlessness and grew still. His eyes remained closed, yet she had the
strangest impression that he was trying to see her.

“It is you?” he murmured. “Are you really here?”
“Yes, I am here.”
“I sensed you beside me today, in front of the altar where we once

stood together.”

A sharp alarm swept through Shona. She must get out of here. If he

awoke and found her deceiving him, he would be very angry and rightly
so.

But when she tried to withdraw her hands, his grip tightened.
“Don’t go,” he murmured. “Don’t go – Angela.”
“I must,” she said softly. “I came for only a moment because – ” she

hesitated, not sure how to go on.

“Because you knew my heart yearned for you.”
“After all these years?” she asked wistfully.
“All these years and to the end of my life.”
“That is a long time,” she said. “You will love again.”
“No,” he said, almost violently. “No one but you – ever. My love –

Angela, my love.”

Without warning he released her hands, taking hold of her shoulders

and pulling her down beside him.

Suddenly his arms were folding around her, crushing her against

him. Shona tried to free herself, but she could not do so. He was deeply
asleep, locked in his own private world where his beloved Angela was
still very much alive.

And then he was kissing her. His lips were on hers, caressing them

fiercely yet with passionate tenderness.

For a moment she was too startled to react. Then alarm and

agitation surged through her. She must stop this happening.

But at the same moment she knew that she did not want him to stop.
The feel of his mouth against hers was thrilling. No man had ever

kissed her and the sensation was astounding.

The steely clasp of his arms about her, his warm, mobile mouth

caressing hers, his spicy, masculine scent, all these things fired her with
a feeling she unwillingly recognised as desire.

It was shocking, improper, shameless.
It was thrilling, wonderful.
Scarcely knowing what she was doing, she relaxed in his arms,

feeling the heat of his body through her thin nightgown. She was dizzy
and exhilarated, craving for his kisses to last for ever even while she
knew that she must be strong and call a halt.

“Angela,” he whispered against her lips. “Angela my love – come

back to me –

come back to me

.”

The desperate yearning in his voice pierced the sweet haze

enfolding her. She was stealing a kiss that belonged to another woman,
even though her deception was entirely innocent.

Conscience stricken, she began to struggle, but at once his arms

tightened.

“Don’t go,” the Marquis begged. “Don’t leave me alone again – ”
Mercifully his eyes were still closed, but Shona was terrified that he

would wake at any minute. The thought of being found in his arms filled
her with shame.

Exerting all her strength, she managed to free herself from him and

leapt up from the bed.

“Angela –”

She backed away to the door, her eyes fixed on him.
His arms were outstretched to her in agony. In another moment he

would wake and see her.

She fled.

*

After sailing all night they entered the Bay of Biscay and the weather

grew rough. As the boat pitched and tossed Shona stayed in her cabin.

“She is feeling very seasick,” Effie confided to the Marquis over

breakfast. “She asks you to excuse her today.”

“Of course,” he said at once. “I doubt if I will want to do much work

while the weather is like this.”

Secretly he was relieved not to have to face Shona. In fact, he was

not sure that he could ever face her again after the shocking illusion that
had come to him last night.

He had gone to bed knowing that he would dream about Angela.

That was inevitable after visiting the church where they had married, and
reliving his old memories.

To stand before the burned out remains of the altar where she had

become his wife, and feel her spirit there beside him had given him a
brief, poignant happiness. But he had known that he would pay for it
later.

And so he had. In a dream she had returned to him, gazing at him

with eyes full of love, but also full of reproach because the man who had
killed her had escaped.

He had implored her forgiveness. For years he had sought this man,

pursuing him across the world like a vengeful fiend, swearing never to
rest until her murderer had been punished.

But he had failed and his failure lay heavy on his heart, dishonouring

his love.

In his dream she had whispered that he might love again, but he

knew that the joy of love was not for him while Angela was still
unavenged.

But then –
The Marquis rose abruptly and escaped the breakfast table. He

needed to be alone before he could allow himself to remember what had
happened next. It was too terrible, too glorious, too wonderful and
alarming, all at the same time.

He had kissed her, as he had done many times in his dreams.

Always it had ended the same way, with her vanishing, leaving him alone
and desolate.

This time she had not vanished. She had changed into another

woman. For a few incredible moments the woman in his arms had been,
not Angela, but his prim and proper secretary.

Except that suddenly she was no longer prim and proper, but

clinging to him as ardently as he had embraced her. Her glorious hair –
seen once and never forgotten – had streamed down over his hands,
tempting him to weave his fingers through its silken beauty.

He had felt the warmth of her body against his and known that her

desire had equalled his. Her lips had given him the same message.

Suddenly his arms were empty.

She was there no more.
As the feverish dream faded, he had awakened and found himself

alone and desolate again.

He had lain there in the darkness for a long time, trying to

understand what had happened. But no understanding would come to
him.

At last he had risen, thrown on his dressing gown and looked out

into the corridor.

But of course there was no one there. He felt ashamed. It was a

shocking insult to a respectable lady even to have imagined her in his
cabin.

Nonetheless, he could not stop himself from moving along the

corridor until he was outside her cabin door. There he stood, listening
intently, aghast at himself for behaving so improperly, but unable to
depart.

He pictured her, lying on the other side of the door, in her chaste

bed, oblivious to the way he had wronged her in his thoughts.

After a while he had forced himself to walk quietly away, returning to

his cabin to spend the rest of the night staring out of the porthole at the
sea.

Now he was grateful that he would not have to meet her too soon.

He still needed time to collect his thoughts.

He did not see her until the evening, when they all met around the

dining table. He was feeling tense and weary and she looked the same.
Lionel was seasick and could eat little. In fact, the only person who
seemed healthy and untroubled was Effie.

“My compliments, madam,” the Marquis said. “You put us all to

shame.”

“Thank you, sir. I really don’t know what has happened to Shona. I

have never known her to be seasick before, even when crossing the Bay
of Biscay.”

“I suppose I must have changed,” Shona explained quickly. “This

journey is – unlike any other.”

To everyone’s relief the party broke up early, and they all retired to

bed.

But in the night Shona arose again. This time she did not go near

the Marquis’s cabin, but climbed up on deck to lean on the railing,
watching the foaming sea.

As Effie had said, she was a good sailor, and felt no fear of the

choppy conditions. In fact it was a relief to stand out here in the wind, and
be able to relax without any eyes on her.

Then she realised that she was not alone after all. Lionel had made

his way uneasily on deck and stood there taking deep breaths.

“Are you well enough to be up here?” she asked.
“No,” he said wretchedly. “I am not well enough to be anywhere. But

at least up here I can breathe fresh air.”

He took some huge gulps and seemed a little easier.
“Are you sorry now that you stowed away?” Shona asked him kindly.
“No, I had to come. He needs me.”
“He does? He doesn’t seem to think so. He was very angry when

you appeared.”

“That is because I am family. He does not want anyone on this

journey who knows him too well,” was Lionel’s strange reply.

He saw Shona regarding him quizzically and said,
“I have already told you, the travel book is just a cover. He is here to

retrace his wedding journey. Did you know that he was once married?”

“I heard some vague rumour,” Shona said carefully.
“He eloped when he was a very young man. I believe they actually

married in France. His wife was murdered soon afterwards. I am vague
about the details because of course he doesn’t talk about it. But that is
what’s behind it. This journey is in her honour, because after all these
years he is still deeply in love with her.”

Shona turned away so that Lionel could not see how his words were

affecting her. Her heart was beating madly as she thought of just how
much in love the Marquis truly was.

It was almost frightening. How passionately would a man have to

adore a woman’s memory for all these years and then plan a trip in
honour of the precious time they had shared?

“What became of the man who murdered her?” she asked. “Was he

caught and condemned?”

“No, because he escaped in the confusion and was never found. I

believe that thought hurts my uncle more than anything – that her killer got

away with it.”

Then Shona remembered something.
“That first evening we met,” she said, “you told me part of this story.”
“Did I?” Lionel asked vaguely. “I don’t remember.”
“Yes, you said he was not really writing a travel book, but it was a

cover for something else.”

“And so it is – a journey in her memory.”
“But there was more. You also said you were not sure he had

admitted his real purpose to himself and that he would not know until the
last minute if he was going to do something terrible.”

She thought he became uneasy.
“No, I don’t think I said anything of the kind.”
“You did, I distinctly remember – ”
“Well, it was all moonshine,” he replied hurriedly. “I was probably

drunk. Don’t attach any importance to it.”

“But Lionel – ”
“Goodnight,” he said, and departed.

CHAPTER SIX

Shona stared after Lionel’s retreating figure, wondering at the

strange tension that had inspired his words.

What was it about the Marquis that alarmed Lionel so much that he

feared to discuss it? What mystery was he concealing?

The ship lunged and she braced herself against the dipping and

swaying of the deck. The wind was blowing harder now, creating huge
waves and causing the rain to lash against her face.

She welcomed it. Perhaps the shock of cold water might help her

recover her scattered wits.

Today she had avoided the Marquis, knowing that she could never

look him in the eye after her shameless behaviour of last night.

He had aroused feelings in her that were as confusing as they were

treacherously sweet. She knew she must not yield to them and she was
not ready to face him.

And yet she had not been able to avoid him. Even while she

shunned his presence, she discovered that she seemed to carry him
about with her as a torturing memory.

Would she ever be free of the feel of his lips on hers and the feel of

his arms holding her tightly? Lost in her dream, she took a moment to
realise that a voice was calling her.

“Are you all right?”

She looked and found the Marquis moving slowly along the deck in

her direction.

“Are you all right?” he called again.
He came to stand beside her. In the semi- darkness and the

moonlight, his face damp with spray, he seemed different.

“You should go below,” he suggested firmly. “It isn’t safe in this

weather.”

“I like it here,” she told him. “I always come on deck in the rough

weather. It is exciting.”

“I wonder that your husband permitted you to do so.”
She frowned slightly, wondering what he meant. Then she

remembered that she was supposed to be a widow. The real world
seemed strangely distant.

“I did not ask my husband’s permission,” she said, slipping back

into character. “Why should I?”

“Is not a woman duty bound to obey her lord and master?” he asked.
Shona could hardly have explained her own feelings to herself at

that moment. But somewhere, at the back of them, was anger.

She was angry with this man because he had brought to life such

strange emotions inside her, emotions that she would rather not have
experienced.

She tried to tell herself that she was not in love with him. She was

strong-minded and would not allow herself to fall in love with a man who
could not offer his heart to her.

Nonetheless, she had been growing increasingly angry at her own

confusion and now she lost her temper.

“My lord and master?” she said furiously. “I never considered him in

that light. He was my true love. We loved each other in total freedom of
heart and with complete equality.”

There was a shocked silence. The Marquis was taken aback by her

outburst.

At last he said,
“He must have been a very rare kind of man.”
“He was,” she declared firmly. “I shall never know anyone like him

again.”

“Then you have been a very lucky woman.”
In the moonlight he could see the wedding ring glinting faintly on her

finger. It seemed to warn him that this was a woman who had renounced
the world of men to live like a nun.

If she only knew how shamelessly he had thought of her –
He was jerked back to reality by a sudden surge in the sea that

made the boat heave wildly.

“I think it is now time to go below, where it is safer,” he said

earnestly.

“Not me,” Shona said. “I like it here.”
He was about to remonstrate with her when he caught sight of her

eyes, blazing with excitement. There was something about the violent
weather that thrilled her, he realised.

How different she was from the dowdy creature she had seemed at

their first meeting. This was a vital, lovely young woman, full of courage
and determination.

“I like it here,” she said again.
“But it’s dangerous.”
“Then I like danger,” she called back against the wind.
“It is real.”
“What a strange thing to say. Everything is real.”
“No.” She shook her head fiercely. “Not everything.
So much of the world is no more than a dream, and then you awake

– ”

She stared out over the dark sea, so that he wondered if she

realised that he was still there.

“And when you awake,” he said slowly, “you cannot tell what is the

truth and what is not.”

“I am not real,” she said suddenly.
“I know that. I know you are not the person you pretended to be when

we first met.”

“How do you know?” she demanded, startled.
“Because you cannot keep up the pretence.”
“But I am not the only one pretending,” she answered, looking at him

and remembering Lionel’s mysterious words.

He did not answer, but stayed as he was, regarding her with a

puzzled expression in his eyes.

Suddenly the boat lurched again, throwing her off-balance.
She grasped wildly for something to hold onto, but could find

nothing. He reached out to save her and the next moment she had fallen
against his chest.

For what seemed like an eternity, but was only a split second, he

held her tightly against him in an echo of the previous night.

“Please let me go,” she cried breathlessly, suddenly full of dread.
He did so at once. But his movements were mechanical, like those

of a man who had received a stunning shock.

“Thank you,” she said quickly. “That might have been a nasty fall.

Maybe you are right and I should go below.”

“Yes,” he agreed in a curt voice, releasing her as fast as he could.

“Goodnight.”

*

When Shona awoke, the yacht was not moving. Looking through the

porthole, she saw that they had reached Gibraltar.

It had taken her a long time to calm down the night before. Her mind

had been full of confused thoughts. At last she had managed to fall
asleep and had slept late.

Effie was already dressed and looking at her eagerly.
“Lionel says he’ll take me sightseeing,” she said.
“I thought he was confined to the ship.”
“Oh, his Lordship has relented. He says he knows Lionel will be all

right if I am there to keep watch over him.”

“Really?”
“He is as good as gold with me.” Effie laughed.
“Perhaps I should have become a nanny. I seem to have a talent for

it.”

Shona regarded her with amusement.
“Is that how Lionel thinks of you? As a nanny?”
“Well anyway, he does as I tell him. In fact,” Effie added with a

twinkle, “he says he exists only to do my bidding.”

She said the last words with a theatrical air, then collapsed in

giggles.

“He sounds like the perfect gentleman,” Shona observed wryly.
“Well it’s better than a man who calls you names and makes nasty

accusations,” Effie replied.

From which remark Shona gathered that Jimmy was still occupying

her thoughts.

“So can I go sightseeing?” she asked. “I’ll help you dress first.”
“I will manage by myself,” Shona assured her. “Go and enjoy

yourself. But do not be back late. The Marquis may want to leave

promptly.”

Effie beamed and rushed out.
Then Shona remembered how she had said ‘Lionel’. Not Mr. Hilton.

Shona wondered if she was wise to encourage something that might
again leave Effie with a broken heart.

She dressed and hurried to the dining room for breakfast, but found

the Marquis had already eaten and left the yacht.

“His Lordship said he wanted to go to the shops,” the steward told

her.

When she had nearly finished her meal, the Marquis himself

appeared. He looked pale and tense, as he always seemed to, but he
was composed, and there was no sign in his manner that he
remembered that fateful night.

He greeted her with a pleasant smile and handed her a parcel.
“This is for you,” he said, “and I hope you will like it.”
“What is it?” Shona asked.
“Open it and see,” he told her.
She opened the parcel and found one of the exquisite Chinese

shawls which were always on sale in Gibraltar.

“Thank you, thank you,” she said in delight. “I will enjoy wearing it,

and I am sure that every woman who sees it round my shoulders will be
envious.”

The Marquis laughed.
“I hope so,” he said. “I certainly think you will look very attractive in it.”
Then he turned away quickly, as though afraid that he might have

said something to offend her.

“Your nephew has taken Effie out sightseeing,” Shona informed him.

“I told her not to be late back, for I was sure you would want to depart
promptly.”

“And I am sure she will be very conscientious about it,” the Marquis

observed with a wry smile. “Lionel, however, is never conscientious
about anything and left to his own devices will be very late back.”

“Oh dear!”
“Don’t worry. We can afford a little time. So why don’t we go out

together and see the apes? They are more often than not hovering near
the shops. They look so attractive, I feel sure you would like to see them.”

“Of course I would love to see them,” Shona replied.
They took a carriage around the streets of Gibraltar and she

relaxed, sensing a change in him. She was not sure what had caused it,
but several times she caught him looking at her, with a slightly puzzled
expression on his face.

At last they stopped at an outdoor restaurant, overlooking the sea.

He ordered coffee and cakes.

“I wanted to get away from the others,” he said, “because there are

some issues I want to discuss with you. But now I can remember none of
them.”

“Perhaps you had some notes you wanted to give me?” she

suggested. “I am sure it is about time we did some work on your book.”

The Marquis pondered.
“Oh yes, the book,” he replied.
“We

are

writing a book, aren’t we?” she asked.

“Yes, of course we are – ”
“Only I am not using any of those languages you are employing me

to speak, except at the church, and that – ”

“That was nothing to do with the book,” he interjected. “But there is

no hurry. I may get distracted with other matters.”

“What – kind of other matters?” she asked cautiously.
“Trying to persuade you to confide in me, for example, because I tell

you frankly that I do not believe a word you have said to me.”

Shona remained silent and he said,
“Now I have offended you. That was not my intention. But ever since

we met you have pretended to be somebody else. You have tried to
persuade me that you are middle-aged, which you are not. And dowdy,
which you are not either.”

For a moment it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him everything,

including the fact that she was falling in love with him.

And this was the danger. Once she started to talk, she would not be

able to stop and there were things she must not say to him.

“Let us just say that I was considering the proprieties,” she said.

“We could not have travelled together without some little pretence on my
part.”

“Is that all there is to it?” he asked, with a little frown.

“What else could there be?”
“I was hoping that you would tell me.”
When she did not speak again he gave a sigh.
“Perhaps I hoped for too much, too soon. Things have happened –

things I cannot explain – ”

He broke off abruptly. What he said was all too true, for how could

he explain what had happened to him that night?

When the lurch of the ship had flung her against him, her body had

felt familiar. He had known at once that he had embraced her.

And he had.
But only in his illusion.
In that wild dream that had come to him he had embraced Angela,

his true love, but Angela had turned into Shona.

Shona’s build was different to Angela’s, stronger, more – delicacy

made him hesitate, but at last he used the word, more

voluptuous

.

For a blinding moment he had held her shapely form against him

and had kissed her wide, generous mouth. And when fate threw her into
his arms again, he had known it was the same woman.

Except that it was impossible.
For if there was one thing more certain than any other, it was that he

had been alone in his cabin that night.

Now he became alarmed, as though his thoughts about her might

somehow show in his face.

She would guess and be justly furious.
She would leave him.
And she must not do that.
He tried to pull himself together and reason with himself.
He needed to keep her with him for a practical reason. The purpose

for which he had brought her on this journey had not yet been fulfilled.
That was all.

But he knew there was another reason why she must not be allowed

to leave him.

He wanted to rage against Heaven. All these years he had lived

without love and been content to do so.

And now, when he might be about to commit a terrible deed that

would put him beyond the pale, love had come dancing softly back into

his life, with its intimations of joy and warmth, sapping his resolution,
reminding him of all he would give up.

Shona was looking at him. Her eyes were puzzled and – did he

imagine it? – a little anxious.

“What do you mean?” she asked. “What has happened?”
“Nothing. Nothing. Let us say no more. I do not wish to annoy you.”
“You could not annoy me,” she said quickly. “But I think we should go

back to the ship.”

“Of course,” he said, his shoulders sagging slightly.
They arrived on board to find that Effie and Lionel were not yet back.

They finally returned, in high spirits, weighed down by parcels. Lionel had
been buying her gifts.

“Effie do be careful,” Shona warned worriedly, as they were

dressing for dinner.

“Don’t you fret, miss. He’s just like a little puppy dog,” Effie said

calmly. “Besides, it serves Jimmy right.”

“Does it?”
“I told you, he accused me of knowing the wrong sort of bloke, the

sort ‘no decent girl would have anything to do with.’ That’s what he said,
and he would not believe me when I told him he was wrong. So perhaps
it’s time I did what he said. Then we’ll be all square.”

“But he won’t know,” Shona pointed out. “And if you and he should

happen to meet up again – ”

“I am sure I don’t care about that, miss,” Effie replied with a sniff.
Shona was obliged to give up.
Over dinner Lionel was full of jokes and laughter, and afterwards he

insisted on them all going to the saloon, where he played a selection of
ditties on the little piano.

“What shall I play next?” he demanded at last.
“Nothing,” said Effie, who could see that Shona and the Marquis had

had as much as they could endure. “Come and show me the stars.”

She seized his hand and almost forced him up on deck. The others

breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“My nephew!” the Marquis exclaimed with disdain. “Now perhaps

you will understand why I did not want to bring him with us.”

Shona laughed.

“Do you play the piano yourself?”
“Very badly,” he answered, “and very noisily. How about you?”
“I do play, but as you did not mention it, I thought it would be rather

forward of me to suggest it.”

“I didn’t ask because I thought you might feel embarrassed if you

could not play,” the Marquis replied.

“We are being much too polite to each other,” Shona said. “Let me

be honest, I would love to play the piano and if you think I make a terrible
noise, you are to be frank and tell me so.”

“But you do enjoy playing?”
“Actually I love the piano and I play it at home, but my step-father

said he disliked music of any sort, so I only played when he was away.”

In the brief silence that followed she wondered if the Marquis would

notice her slip. She was supposed to be a widow, living in lodgings, and
the mention of her step-father had been a mistake.

But the Marquis did not seem to have noticed.
“It’s a very pretty little piano,” she said, to distract him.
“My grandmother gave it to me. It is old and very valuable. She kept

it in an excellent condition simply because she was very proud of it and
had, in her time, asked a great number of talented musicians to play for
her.”

“So you were brought up to appreciate music?” Shona asked.
“My grandmother insisted on it,” the Marquis replied.
“I love music. I have a feeling that you love it too.”
Shona smiled but she did not answer.
She merely sat down at the piano and very gently ran her fingers

over the keys.

Then as the Marquis settled himself comfortably into an armchair,

she played one of the old tunes she had loved as a child.

It had also been a favourite with her mother.
She was thinking of her mother and how happy they had been

before her father had died.

As she played she changed from one tune to another.
Every melody she played made her recall the great love which her

father and mother had felt for each other.

At last she stopped and her hands dropped into her lap.

As she turned round to look towards the Marquis, she realised she

had been playing for quite a long time.

She had, for the moment, forgotten his very existence.
She looked at him. For a moment he did not speak.
Then he said,
“Why did you not tell me you are a musician? Listening to you has

made me feel happier than I have been for a long time.”

“I am so glad,” Shona replied. “Music should always reflect the

player’s mood. While I was playing I was thinking how happy I was as a
child and how happy my mother was until my father died.”

A shadow crossed his face.
“Happiness always dies, doesn’t it?” the Marquis said quietly. “We

should never forget that.”

“But that isn’t true,” Shona responded fervently. “Happiness does

not always die.”

“You are mistaken,” he said in a voice that was suddenly harsh. “It is

an illusion, soon dispelled. Have you not discovered as much for
yourself? How long were you married?”

“I – I cannot talk about that,” she faltered.
“Forgive me. I should not have asked. But I know that you

understand grief. I could sense it when we were in that burned out
church.”

He rose and poured himself another drink. Then he began to pace

the saloon.

“You understood everything, didn’t you?” he asked sombrely.
“I think you were the bridegroom Pierre told us about.”
“Yes,” he said sharply. “I was the bridegroom. It was as Pierre said,

we were children embarking on an adventure. We were young and in
love and we thought that love was the answer to everything.

“She was already betrothed, against her will, to a man called

George Acton. He was an evil, dissipated creature, but enormously rich.

“Her father desired the match because of the money. He would have

dragged Angela to the altar by her hair if necessary. He did all he could
to drive me away. Once he even set the dogs on me.”

“He sounds a horrible man,” Shona agreed, “but I do not understand

his hostility towards you. Surely a Marquis would have satisfied his

ambitions better than anything?”

“You are right. And if I had been a Marquis then, I dare say he would

have looked on me with favour.

“But my father was still alive and he controlled the purse strings. He

didn’t want me to marry Angela because she had no title or money. He
had three possible brides lined up for me, all of them from ducal families.

“When I fell in love with Angela, he cursed me and shut off my

allowance. He said it would stay that way until I ‘came to my senses’. So I
had no way of persuading my father. Money was all he cared about.

“My friends came to my rescue, loaning me money to keep me

afloat while I fought it out. With their help, Angela and I managed to
escape and make our way to Calais, where we married.

“But Acton was hot on our heels. At first we fled him because we

didn’t want to be bothered with him. But then I wanted to stop running and
face him. I thought perhaps he did not realise that we were married, and
when he knew, he would give up.

“I wonder now how I could have been such a naïve fool, but that was

what I thought. Angela disagreed. She knew him better than I. But in the
end I had my way.”

He stopped, shuddering.
“If only I had listened to her, she might be alive now,” he growled

hoarsely.

He fell silent and stayed silent for some time, shaking with the

violence of his suffering. At last Shona placed her hand on his arm.

“What happened?” she asked gently.
“We waited for him and faced him defiantly. I told him there was

nothing that he could do. I can still see him, standing there, looking at me
with an evil grin on his face. Then he pulled out a pistol and fired.”

“He claimed to love her and he fired at her?” Shona exclaimed,

aghast.

The Marquis laughed grotesquely. It was a cruel and bitter sound

and almost on the edge of madness.

“Not at her. At

me.

”

He rounded on her, eyes glittering. “I was the one he wanted to kill.

Then he would have dragged her away with him. I told you she knew him
better than I. She was ready for it. She saw his move before I did and

flung herself against me, knocking me out of the way of his bullet.”

Shona could not speak for the horror that was growing in her.
“The bullet struck her instead,” he said. “She died in my arms, and

our unborn child – both victims of my stupidity. When Acton saw what he
had done, he fired again, trying to kill me too. Would that he had
succeeded!

“But the bullet only grazed my cheek. He didn’t stay to try again. He

heard the servants coming and ran.

“I would have pursued him but Angela was still alive. As I cradled her

I begged her forgiveness. She only had breath enough left to repeat our
vows of love, for this world and the next. Then she died.

“Since that day I have hunted him throughout the world. Nor will I stop

until I have found him. How can I rest while he lives free and unpunished,
while she lies cold in her grave?

“I must pursue him until I find him. No other life is possible for me. If it

was possible – ”

He turned to look at her and there was something in his eyes that

she had not seen before.

It was a glowing intensity that seemed to beckon to her. It made her

heart beat faster and her breath catch in her throat.

“If it was possible – ” he repeated slowly.
“If it was possible?” she whispered.
After a long, agonising pause he gave a sigh from the depths of his

being.

“I cannot allow myself to think of that,” he said heavily. “I must not – I

dare not – ”

He drained his glass of whisky and reached for the bottle.
“Yes,” he said, catching her looking at him. “I am drinking too much,

aren’t I? Sometimes it is the only way to deal with the ghosts. Recently
the ghosts have been very strange.”

He regarded her with an unfamiliar glitter in his eyes.
“I have imagined things that could not possibly be,” he said.
He saw her looking at him, puzzled “You don’t know what I am

talking about, do you?”

Shona shook her head. Her heart was breaking for him.
“Never mind. It is better that you do not know.”

He set down the bottle without filling his glass.
“Very well. No more tonight.”
He sighed.
“I have told you things that perhaps I should not have done.”
“You may trust me, my Lord. I will never repeat anything you have

said.”

“I know. I do trust you. But what right had I to dump my burdens onto

you?”

She wanted to tell him that he had every right and that she was

giving more of her heart to him every moment. She wanted to say that his
trust and dependence on her was the sweetest thing she had ever
known.

But what was the point of hoping? He was not for her. He had just

told her so.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The next day a different mood seemed to fall over the party. Now

they were out in the open sea again. The weather was glorious and, with
no land in sight, it was possible to forget the world and become light-
hearted.

Lionel flirted shamelessly with Effie, who received his overtures with

a chuckle. Shona had feared that her friend and maid might end up
broken-hearted, but when Effie sighed and said,

“I wonder what my Jimmy is doing right now,”
Shona concluded that if any heart was to be broken it was unlikely to

be Effie’s.

As for Lionel –
“It will do him good,” Effie observed cheerfully. “Cheeky young pup!”
“Is that my heir you are referring to?” asked the Marquis, who

happened to be passing them on deck.

“Is he really your heir?” Effie asked with interest. “He keeps telling

me he is, but I wasn’t sure whether to believe him.”

“Why not?”
“He is the sort who would say anything to impress a girl,” Effie

ventured, not unkindly, but in a practical spirit.

“But you remain distinctly unimpressed, I gather?” the Marquis

asked, amused.

“Well, he’s just a babe in arms, isn’t he?” Effie replied. “Mind you,

he’ll be a real catch in about ten years’ time.”

He grinned.
“Always supposing I have not disinherited him in the meantime,” he

observed casually.

He liked Effie who, after her initial nerves, had fallen into an easy,

unaffected way of chatting to him.

“Oh, that’s not important,” she said airily.”

“It would be important to a girl who married him, counting on him

inheriting the title and then find he had been cut out,” the Marquis
declared.

“Serve her right for getting married for the wrong reasons,” Effie

retorted. “I was talking about him as a man. In ten years’ time he should
have had some of the silly ideas knocked out of his head and be worth
knowing.”

Then she added,
“But if, by ‘disinheriting’, you mean what I think you do, the sooner

the better.”

“You consider that I should have a son and put his nose out of joint?”

he enquired, seeming to give the matter his grave consideration.

“Of course you should,” said Effie firmly. “Finding himself a nobody

would be the making of him.”

Despite her youth she seemed to regard Lionel much as a kindly

aunt might view a recalcitrant infant. When he appeared and hailed her a
few minutes later, she called,

“All right, all right, I’m coming. Stay where you are.”
She bustled away to meet him, clearly unimpressed by the way his

handsome features lit up with joy at the sight of her.

“She is quite right, of course,” the Marquis said, watching as the two

of them strolled along the deck. “A little unrequited love is just what Lionel
needs to stop him becoming insufferable.”

“How unkind!” Shona protested. “The poor boy is head over heels!”
“Calf love!” he said with cheerful callousness. “Mind you, if it doesn’t

pass, I suppose the poor girl may have to marry him.”

“Oh, no!” Shona said quickly. “That’s out of the question.”
“A terrible fate,” he agreed. “You naturally wish to save your friend

from falling into it. But I suppose she could do worse.”

“You are making fun of her,” she said, “but I assure you such a match

would be quite ineligible. Effie does not have a title or – or a fortune – or
anything of that kind. And naturally the heir to the House of Chilworth
would require status in his bride.”

“The heir to the House of Chilworth is a nincompoop, who should be

grateful that a decent woman even looks at him,” the Marquis responded
with grim humour.

“But she is not looking at him,” Shona declared. “He is not at all what

Effie wants. You heard her say so.”

He cocked an eyebrow.
“What exactly does she want?” he demanded humorously.
Feeling exhilarated by the sun, the sea and his presence, Shona

was tempted to say,

“Dangling after her yourself, my Lord?”
His mouth twisted wryly.
“You surely know better than that.”
Then he fell silent and stared out over the water, leaving her to

wonder if she had heard aright, and if so, did his words mean what they
seemed to?

After a while he looked back at her.
“So you don’t think I will have to forbid the match?” he asked lightly.
She pulled herself together.
“No need. Effie would forbid it herself.”
They shared a smile.
Shona thought how his face had changed, as though the shadows

that were haunting him had mysteriously lifted.

She could not help noticing how he was regarding her, with a light in

his eyes that was increasingly disturbing and which made it harder for
her to think straight.

“Then it looks as though I will have to take Effie’s advice,” he

commented. “Establish my own family and cut him out of the line.”

“You might be happier if you did so,” Shona agreed.
“Yes,” he said thoughtfully. “Yes.”
There was a long silence.
“But there are things I must do first,” he said at last.
“Until they are done, I have no right to even think of – no right at all.”
“I know,” she said softly.
“Yes, you do understand, don’t you? And yet – the thoughts that I am

determined to resist have a way of creeping in against my will.”

“I know that too,” she whispered.
Shona was in torment. The feeling that she could sense growing

between them was unbearably sweet. Yet how could she let it happen
while she was deceiving him as to her true identity?

Deceiving him about everything, she thought with dismay.
She imagined telling him the truth, seeing a look of incredulity and

disgust come over his face.

And he would undoubtedly be angry when he learned the truth about

Effie. However he might joke about Lionel, would any Marquis think it
amusing that his heir had been led up the garden path by a maid?

Could she not put off these revelations, and let herself enjoy this

delightful time just a little longer?

While she was still wrestling with her conscience, they noticed

Lionel waving to them from further along the deck.

“Lunch is ready,” he called. “Hurry up. I’m starving.”
Her confession would have to wait a bit longer, she thought, without

too much regret.

Lunch was a merry meal. Lionel fooled about until Effie spoke to him

severely, after which he behaved beautifully, except for gorging himself
with mussels.

Shona caught the Marquis’s eyes on her, inviting her to share the

joke. Her heart soared with sudden happiness.

Lionel had left just one mussel uneaten. Shona, who had never tried

one before, tasted it briefly, before deciding that mussels were not for
her.

After lunch she took a stroll on deck, feeling suddenly unwell for the

first time on the voyage. Perhaps, she thought, she was not as immune
to sea sickness as she had thought.

She went up on deck, taking deep breaths of salty air, but nothing

seemed to make her feel better. She began to think longingly of her bed.

Then she became aware of a commotion below decks. She could

hear the Marquis’s voice raised in anger and the Captain’s voice raised
in dismay.

There was another voice that she could not identify, a man, gabbling

some incoherent explanation. He was cut short by the Marquis, full of
fury.

Effie came flying along the deck to find Shona.
“Effie, what has happened?”
“It’s Lionel, he’s terribly ill. He just collapsed and they had to carry

him to his cabin.”

“Poor boy! Does anyone know the cause?”
“Mussels!” Effie exclaimed in dire accents. “They were kept too long

before cooking.

“His Lordship is that angry! He can’t dismiss the cook right now

because we are out in deep water, but he threatened to throw him
overboard. He doesn’t mean to, but the cook’s run away to hide.”

The Marquis appeared, his face dark with anger.
“I have told the Captain to head for Marseilles as fast as possible,”

he said. “I have a friend who lives there and who will give us refuge until
Lionel is better. I will send a message to him as soon as we land.”

“Yes, it will be pleasant to be on land again,” Shona commented

quietly.

She was gripping the rail as she spoke, feeling the world spin

around her. With a huge effort she forced herself to smile at the Marquis.

“He will be better when he has seen a doctor,” she said with an

attempt at brightness.

“I don’t think it is too serious, but he is having a bad time,” the

Marquis growled. “Thank goodness he was the only one to eat mussels.”

“As a matter of fact – he wasn’t,” Shona said with an effort.
“

What

?”

“I only had one, so perhaps – perhaps – ”
She swayed and his arms encircled her at once.
“My God!” he cried hoarsely. “Oh, my God!”
Before she lost consciousness she briefly glimpsed his face, full of

horror. As he lifted her in his arms she could hear him calling,

“Shona!

Shona!”

After that everything swirled about her and then it grew dark. She

awoke to find herself in her cabin, with Effie tending her.

“We have just reached Marseilles,” she said.
There was a knock on the cabin door. Effie opened it, to admit the

Marquis.

He came straight to Shona’s bed and dropped down on one knee

beside her.

“I have sent a message to my friend, Charles Rivalier,” he said. “I

know he will invite us to his house, and as soon as we are there, a doctor
will attend you.”

His face became clouded.
“But perhaps we should not wait. I could send for one of the

quayside doctors now, but my friend’s physician will be better – and I
want you to be attended by the best.”

He seemed quite distracted and quite unlike his usual cool and

controlled self.

“Whatever you think is the most suitable,” she murmured weakly.

“How is Lionel? I am sure he is worse than I am.”

“Lionel is doing all right,” he replied with a touch of impatience. “But

you both need a doctor without delay. Wait! What am I thinking of? I know
a better way.”

He left the cabin in a hurry and returned in a few moments to say that

they were leaving immediately.

“I have hired two carriages so that you can arrive earlier,” he said.

“We will take the main road to the Chateau Rivalier and meet my friend’s
messenger on the way.”

He reached out his hands for Shona.
“Allow me to help you.”
He drew her to her feet.
“Can you walk?” he asked tenderly.
“Yes – yes, I am sure I can – ”
But one look at her white face told him otherwise. In a moment his

arms were around her, and she was being lifted gently off her feet, high
against his chest.

“Put your arms about my neck,” he commanded.
He carried her all the way to the carriage and handed her gently in.

Behind them came the Captain and one of the crew members, assisting
Lionel between them. They put him into the other carriage.

Effie climbed into the first carriage with the Marquis and Shona and

they started their journey.

Shona lay back against the squabs, trying to rest, but she could not

find a comfortable position, and her discomfort increased.

Then the Marquis’s arms were around her again, and he drew her

head onto his shoulder, whispering, “There, lean on me. I will take care of
you.”

“I feel so ill,” she muttered wretchedly.

“I know my dear. I am so sorry. I blame myself.”
“Not – your fault – ”
“It was my staff who did this to you. My cook will not escape lightly.”
“Poor man – don’t be too hard on him for one slip.”
“I do not employ people who make this kind of mistake,” he said

grimly.

He stopped, noticing her ghastly pallor and the light glow of

dampness on her forehead.

Her head fell onto his shoulder and he held her close for the rest of

the journey.

Along the road they encountered a huge carriage heading in their

direction, bearing the coat of arms of the Rivalier family. It had been sent
to take them to the Chateau Rivalier.

Monsieur Charles Rivalier mounted on his horse hailed them

eagerly.

“Now you will follow me,” he cried. “But you should remain in your

carriages, so as not to disturb the invalids too much.”

So the whole convoy made its way to the chateau, where a doctor

was already waiting.

He examined the patients, and declared that a few days’ rest and

good food would put them right.

While he was attending to Shona, the Marquis hovered worriedly in

the background. When the doctor had finished, Effie took charge,
banishing everyone from the room.

Ill as she was, Shona saw that the Marquis gave her one last look,

then departed obediently.

Effie undressed her like a mother, put her snugly into bed, and

administered the draught the doctor had prescribed. It tasted vile, but
soon afterwards Shona sank back into sleep.

In her dreams she was aboard the carriage once more, swaying

back and forth, her head resting on the Marquis’s shoulders.

But was that all it was? Just a dream?
Or had it really happened?
Had he really held her with such tenderness and strength? Had she

seen in his face that open defenceless look, which at other times was so
carefully concealed?

Had she really raised her arms, clasping him tightly around his neck,

and burying her face against his chest, as though only there could she
find true safety?

She imagined it again now, and found that her hands seemed to

curve naturally around the strong column of his neck.

She wanted to stay there for ever.
When she awoke, Effie was still sitting patiently beside her. Shona’s

head had cleared so that she could study the room in which she was
lying.

It was very large and elegantly furnished, with tall windows at which

white lace curtains fluttered. She could just make out the hint of a garden
beyond.

“That’s much better, miss,” Effie said, smiling when she saw

Shona’s eyes open.

“Where am I?”
“The Chateau Rivalier, miss.”
“Oh yes, I remember now.”
“This is the very best guest bedroom. Madame Rivalier insisted on

that. And the doctor – ”

Effie dropped her voice confidingly.
“His Lordship insisted that the doctor see you first, before Lionel.”
“How is he?”
“He is going to be all right,” Effie said.
She rose and headed for the door.
“I must go and speak to his Lordship. He wanted to be told as soon

as you woke up.”

She vanished, leaving Shona to her thoughts.
They were strange thoughts, troubled and confused, yet with a

strange flickering of happiness.

She remembered his face, full of dread as he held her, watching her

consciousness drain away.

Such terrible memories must have returned to him.

“She had only breath enough left to repeat our vows of love, for

this world and the next. Then she died.”

Those had been his words about another woman he had cradled in

his arms.

That was why he had looked so horrified as he held her, because it

had brought back memories that were too much for him.

It was surely the only reason. Wasn’t it? She tried to be sensible, but

the burst of happiness refused to be dispelled. It had been her he had
held, not that other woman.

Could she not, at least, let herself hope that in that vivid moment, his

feelings, his fears and his intentions had been for her? She floated back
into sleep.

Several times she half awoke, and once there was a strange

woman standing by her bed. She was in her fifties, with a sweet,
motherly face and Shona guessed that this must be her hostess.

“So – so sorry – ” she croaked.
“Do not try to exert yourself,” Madame Rivalier said. “All that matters

is that your health improves and poor Frederick can stop pacing the
floor.”

“Frederick?”
Then she remembered that the Marquis’s Christian name was

Frederick. She had seen it written in his passport, but had never heard it
spoken before.

Madame Rivalier seemed to fade into the mists. Instead, there was

the Marquis standing beside her, gazing down at her with a look in his
eyes that she could not quite comprehend.

Somehow she fell asleep again and when she opened her eyes he

was gone.

She wondered if she had imagined him.
Effie appeared with her breakfast. Shona’s appetite was recovering

and she felt a little stronger. When she had taken a bath, with Effie’s
help, she was well enough to sit up in a chair by the window.

For her first day out of bed, she was dressed in a peach-coloured

satin and lace dressing gown. She appreciated that it was a beautiful
garment, but when she looked in the mirror she wanted to weep.

Illness had left her pale and wan. There was no colour in her cheeks

and she could barely recognise herself.

‘I look like a witch,’ she thought mournfully. ‘Just a raddled, ugly witch

and no man is going to want to look at me.’ Then her eyes focused on a
mountain of white roses standing in a huge jar by the window.

“Where did those beautiful roses come from?” she gasped.
“From his Lordship,” Effie answered excitedly. “He has sent you

roses every day.”

“Every day? How long have I been here?”
“Three days.”
“I don’t remember,” she said, shocked. “The time just drifted by in a

haze.”

“Yesterday’s roses were yellow,” Effie said, “and the day before they

were pink.”

But not red, Shona thought.
“He wants to come and see you, and the doctor says that he can,

but only for a few minutes.”

“Oh, Effie, I cannot see him. Look at me.”
“You are just a little pale.”
“I am worse than that. No, no, I can’t see him.”
“Is that what you want me to tell him, miss?”
“Yes,” Shona said, trying to sound firm. “Please tell his Lordship that

I thank him gratefully, but I am not well enough to receive visitors.”

“Very well, miss.”
Effie headed for the door.
“There is no need to go and find him,” Shona said. “Whenever he

calls next will do.”

“But he is here now, waiting for your decision. He comes to see you

every morning.”

Before Shona could stop her, Effie opened the door and she just

could make out a muffled conversation. There was a murmur that
sounded like the Marquis and then Effie returned.

“He says he understands and does not wish to trouble you,” she

reported. “He will wait until you are ready to receive him.”

“Oh, Effie, that was very impolite of me. Please ask him to come in.”
Effie hurried back to the door and returned a few moments later with

the Marquis.

He entered the room slowly and hung back a little as he approached

Shona, almost as though he was feeling timid.

“I do not mean to be a bore if you wish to remain undisturbed,” he

started.

“Won’t you sit down?” Shona indicated a chair facing her in the big

window and he sat there.

“I only wanted to see for myself how you were progressing,” he

insisted kindly.

Now she regretted allowing him to come so close to her. With the

sun on her face there was no hiding the fact that she was thin and ugly.

She made a helpless gesture and then raised her hands as if to

cover her face. At once he took hold of her hands in both of his.

“Don’t turn away from me,” he said.
She tried to make a joke of it.
“At first I pretended to be dowdy and unattractive. I do not need any

pretence now. I could pass for forty, even without my

pince nez.”

“Don’t be absurd,” he spluttered. “That is the biggest nonsense I

have ever heard.”

Weakened by her illness, Shona had no defences. To her shame

she burst into violent sobs.

“There my dear, please don’t cry,” he said at once, gathering her in

his arms and pulling her head onto his shoulder.

“I am so sorry,” she wept. “I don’t seem able to stop.”
“Of course. You are still not well. You must do whatever makes you

feel better.”

She brushed her tears away and tried to laugh.
“I am sure Lionel isn’t weeping.”
“Lionel is enjoying himself. I know he ate most of those mussels, but

the one you chose must have been the worst of the lot. You were very
unfortunate, my poor girl.”

His voice was so gentle that she nearly burst into tears again.
He seemed to understand her. He merely sat there, holding her

wasted body tenderly.

Suddenly Shona felt completely happy and content to be sitting

here, relying on him. If only she could stay like this for ever.

“You are very kind,” she whispered softly. “You have taken such

good care of me. I am afraid I have been such a nuisance.”

“You could never be that,” he said fondly.
“Effie told me about the flowers you sent every day. I hadn’t even

realised that I had been here so long.”

“We have all been so worried about you.”
Shona felt giddy and light-headed. She wondered if that was the

effect of her illness.

Or perhaps it was the effect of the man sitting close to her, one arm

still around her and one hand enfolding hers.

“How is Lionel?” she asked, trying to sound as though her heart was

not beating so rapidly. “I believe he was very ill.”

“He has thrown it off very well,” the Marquis replied. “He has always

been strong. This morning he has gone outdoors for the first time. It is
you who has scared us. You are much more frail than you look.”

“I have always thought of myself as a strong person,” Shona

protested.

“Then you are mistaken. There was a moment when I – that is we

were seriously afraid for you.”

“Thank you, I – ”
Suddenly they both seemed to become aware of how he was

holding her. Shona felt herself overcome with confusion followed by a
distinct suspicion that he could see her blushing.

He too seemed confused and released her quickly.
“I have tired you enough,” he said, rising. “I will come back later

today – if you will allow me.”

“Please do,” Shona said.
“Are you sure it won’t be too tiring for you?” he asked with a touch of

anxiety.

“Oh, no,” Shona said quickly.
She looked up at him, murmuring,
“I should like it – very much.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

That afternoon Monsieur and Madame Rivalier came to visit Shona.
They were a comfortable, middle-aged couple, full of smiles,

brushing aside her thanks, insisting that their house was her house. She
must remain here until she was well.

“And Frederick will tell us when you are well enough,” Madame

Rivalier said.

There was something significant in her tone and Shona could feel

herself blushing again. Plainly the whole household was expecting
something to happen, and her hosts were looking forward to seeing their
dear friend happy.

They bustled away, leaving Shona to her thoughts.
She had recovered her appetite and managed to eat a hearty meal

that evening. She felt ready now to see the Marquis, but he was late in
coming and her heart sank.

Plainly he had thought better of it. Everything had been an illusion.

Perhaps hints from the Rivaliers had embarrassed him and now he
thought it best to avoid her.

But at last there was a knock on her door. Effie flew to open it and

stood back to let him pass.

Then she slid away, leaving them alone together.
The Marquis looked rather awkward. After some polite enquiries

after her feelings and how well she had eaten, he said with a little laugh,

“They insist on keeping us all here for as long as possible. And I

think it’s wiser, if you don’t mind.”

“I feel very guilty, wasting your time,” she said plaintively.
“You are not wasting my time.”
“But you had plans for this trip – the travel book – ”
With a shrug he consigned the book to perdition.
“That was an idle thought. Let it go.”

“There is no book?” she asked him.
“No. Forgive me for deceiving you. It was necessary, but I cannot

explain why, for the moment. When I do – I hope you will understand, and
forgive me.”

“Surely it will not be for me to forgive,” she said in wonder.
“I said that because I know you to be so honest and open that

deception must be horrible to you.”

Shona laughed.
“But you once said that you did not believe a word I had told you

about myself.”

He reddened slightly.
“Yes, I did say that, didn’t I? And I still believe there is much that you

are keeping from me. But I don’t think you do so willingly.”

Shona nodded.
“Some deceptions are forced upon us through no fault of our own,

my Lord.”

“I know,” he replied “and it emboldens me to hope that you will

understand what my own have been.”

“Then can you not tell me?”
For a moment she thought he would tell her everything that was on

his mind. Then he seemed to think better of it and rose hastily.

“Tomorrow I shall take you for a short drive. We will talk some more

then.”

He lifted her hand and brushed his lips across her skin. Then he was

gone.

She slept soundly and blissfully and awoke feeling well enough for

her first outing.

Effie dressed her carefully in an elegant blue gown. This was one of

her original, fashionable clothes, because now Shona was in no mood
for the drab garments suitable to the part she was playing as a secretary.

She wanted to look pretty for the Marquis, or at least, as pretty as

she could look in her wasted state.

As soon as he saw her, she knew that he thought she was beautiful.

His eyes smiled in a particular way that she had come to know and her
heart leapt.

The vehicle turned out to be a two-seater buggy with just enough

room for the two of them. The Marquis helped her aboard and then
climbed into the driver’s seat and took the reins.

Their host and hostess were there to see them off, nudging and

winking at each other with a meaning that was all too obvious.

Shona liked them enormously, but she wished they would not do

this, in case the Marquis should notice. If that should happen, she would
not know how to look him in the eye.

But then she saw that he actually had noticed their antics, and

instead of being embarrassed or annoyed, he was grinning.

It was summer and the trees were in bloom as they moved through

the beautiful Rivalier estate, which was on high ground, and they could
see the glint of the sea in the distance.

The Marquis kept a moderate pace until they reached a little

bubbling stream. He tied the horse to a low bush by the stream, so that it
could reach the water, and laid out a blanket under the trees.

“I have brought a picnic,” he declared, helping her down. “Sit there,

while I wait on you.”

She leaned back against the tree, blissfully happy, while he

unpacked the hamper. There were cakes and a bottle of light sparkling
wine.

He poured her a glass and sat watching while she sipped it.
“The wine will do you good,” he said, “and so will the sun. In an hour I

will take you home and you can spend the rest of the day in bed.
Tomorrow perhaps we might stay out for longer.”

“You seem to have planned my life very well,” she said, smiling.
“I know what is good for you. I blame myself for having brought all

this upon you.”

“It was certainly not your fault.”
“I employed the cook, and therefore it

is

my fault.”

“You didn’t really dismiss him, did you?” Shona enquired
“I did not need to. The Captain has sent me word that he vanished

when we docked at Marseilles. No doubt by now he has been taken on
by another ship and is busy poisoning more passengers.”

“Poor man.”
“You might have died.”
“And Lionel might have died too,” she reminded him.

“Don’t worry about that young man. He is strong and armoured

against life. But you – you are different, as though a feather could knock
you down.”

“Not at all,” she responded, irritated at such a picture. “Now you are

making me sound like one of those idiotic females with no spirit or
backbone.”

“One of those delicate females who needs looking after,” he

suggested.

“One of those heroines of sentimental novels who sigh at the hero

and beg him to save her,” Shona said firmly.

Her tone made all too clear her opinion of that kind of ‘heroine’.
“I take it you would prefer to save yourself?” he asked with a rueful

smile.

“In general, yes. But since I was the one who collapsed, perhaps I

am feebler than I think I am.”

“No woman is feeble who confronts the world as you do. You earn

your own living and you are intellectually accomplished. You have faced
widowhood – ”

A shadow crossed her face and he stopped at once.
“Forgive me. Is any mention of your husband still painful to you?”
Shona looked at him helplessly, then at the wedding ring on her

finger.

It had always been too large because her fingers were smaller than

her mother’s. Now that she was wasted, it slipped around on her finger.

The Marquis followed her gaze. Taking her hand, he took the ring

off, turning it over in his fingers so that he could read the inscription
inside.

May our love last forever.

“Love lasting forever can be a curse as well as a blessing,” he

observed sombrely. “Have you found that?”

“What – do you mean?”
“Do you still love your dead husband?”
There was a silence while he tried to read her face, but he found

only consternation, and it confused him.

“Shona – ”
“My Lord, I must tell you,” she said quietly,” I have never been

married.”

“What?”

“I am not who I claim to be. You were right about that. I am

Miss

Shona Winterton. My father died three years ago and my mother
remarried. Now my step-father is trying to force me to marry one of his
cronies.

“I would rather die than do that. So I escaped. When I heard that you

needed a secretary who spoke languages it was like a sign from
Heaven.

“I fled to your house and did all I could to persuade you to employ

me. I pretended to be older than I am, and widowed, because I thought
you would not employ a young, unmarried woman.”

“You were right.”
“And then you said I could not come without a companion and it

seemed as though I had lost my chance, but then Effie arrived, thank
goodness!”

“Is Effie hiding a secret too?”
Shona nodded.
“She is my maid. I did not want to lie to you but you said my

companion must not be an employee. And you must not blame Effie. It
was all my doing. But now you see why I was nervous about her
succumbing to Lionel’s charms.”

“Such as they are. Never fear. I think we have both seen that she has

his measure. Forget them. I want to know about you. You talked about
your ‘husband’ so convincingly.”

“I was thinking of my father. When he was alive, my mother and I

travelled with him a lot. He taught me all my languages and he was the
most wonderful person. “This is my mother’s wedding ring. She gave it to
me when she remarried. How she ever came to choose that – ”

She sighed.
“What is your step-father’s name?”
“Colonel Lockwood.”
“I have heard of him. Not a pleasant character, I believe. So he

wants to dispose of you through marriage? You did the right thing in
leaving.”

“Thank you. I was afraid you would think my behaviour was

scandalous.”

“It was. It was also the action of a brave young woman. How old are

you really, by the way? You have been so many ages since we met.”

“I am twenty,” Shona admitted.
“And you are still single? What is the matter with all the young men?”
“Maybe it is I who has no interest in them,” she riposted.
“I think that must be the explanation. But what of the future? You have

told me what you are running away from, but what are you running to?”

“That is still hidden from me,” she said. “I have been so busy thinking

about how

not

to be married that I have not given any thought to a

husband.”

She tried not to seem self-conscious, but it was difficult when he

was the one man above all that she would want as a husband.

In order to pass over the moment, she added lightly,
“Marriage has not impressed me as a pleasant state. It is true that

my parents were happy, but my father was a remarkable man. There are
not many men around like him.

“All the men I have met since I left school, have been engrossed with

their horses and their estates and not really interested in anything else.
Women come a very poor second.”

“I find that very hard to believe,” the Marquis asserted. “You are so

pretty and so intelligent that I should think every man who met you would
want you to be his wife.”

“One or two of them may have given me a passing thought, between

hunting and fishing,” Shona said with some asperity.

The Marquis laughed.
“I know exactly the sort of man you mean,” he said. “But when you

were in London you must have been the belle of every ball?”

“I wish I could say that was true,” Shona replied. “Although I enjoyed

the dances enormously, I never met anyone very special who I wanted to
become part of my life.”

“In other words you did not fall in love,” the Marquis answered.
“That’s true. But I never

wanted

to fall in love.”

“What a strange thing to say.”
“When a girl falls in love with a man, she is in his power. Most men

are so unimpressive that it would be a foolhardy girl who would fall into

their power if she could avoid it.”

“That is so sensible,” he said wryly. “If only more girls thought as you

do. But it applies to men as well. A man in love is a man in a woman’s
power. I believe there are very few women who would not abuse that
power. In fact, I have known only one.”

He fell silent.
“Angela?” Shona asked.
“Yes. She was like no one else.”
“And you are quite convinced that you will never find anyone else as

exceptional as her?”

There was a silence, in which Shona feared she had gone too far.

But then –

“No,” he said abruptly. “I am no longer convinced of that. However –

” he gave an unexpected smile, and spoke more lightly, “it has taken me
twelve years to feel such a hope. You must not wait as long as twelve
years.”

“But suppose I have to?” she enquired. “Suppose love does not

come my way until then? What should I do?

“I remember when I was at school, the other girls were always

saying that their mothers hoped they would marry someone important
and rich.”

The Marquis was listening attentively as she continued,
“When my step-father was determined that I should marry this very

unattractive man simply because he wanted to improve himself socially,
it was then that I realised I wanted to be married for myself and nothing
else.”

The Marquis sighed.
“Oh, those match-making parents!”
“I suppose you have suffered from them a great deal,” Shona said.
“From the day I inherited the title. The irony is that my father, having

fought so hard to stop me marrying Angela, died the following year,
having fallen from his horse.

“I found myself with all the money that any man could want, one of the

oldest titles in the land and nothing that meant anything to me. The
woman who could have given it all some meaning was dead. It was like
living in a gilded desert.

“But all the Society mothers could see was an unattached Marquis,

and they converged on me like a pack of hounds after a fox. I was
oblivious at first, but gradually the danger of my position dawned on me.”

“I think perhaps you are making it sound worse than it need be,”

Shona told him. “Surely the majority of parents, and I would like to include
step-fathers, are not all running after what a man wears on his head, but
what is in his heart.”

The Marquis smiled.
“You put it beautifully,” he said, “but unfortunately there are a great

number of people in this world who want to benefit themselves by a
coronet or a full purse.

“What is more,” he added wryly, “I think I have met most of them at

society parties. They are incredibly dull affairs, but the hostess knows
that the newspapers will report the dinner or the ball the following day,
and those who are not present will grind their teeth with fury because they
were not asked.”

Shona laughed.
“Are you really as important as that?” she asked.
“I grant you I may sound rather conceited,” the Marquis answered,

“but actually that does happen.

“In fact, I used to have people come up to me after some party to

which they have not been invited, and say they were deliberately left out,
and I can only do them a favour by going to a party they will give for me
the following week.”

“So you went from party to party,” Shona said.
“Just as if I were part of a show,” the Marquis retorted. “I would feel I

was acting a part, living up to someone else’s idea of a Marquis. And, of
course, that was what I was doing.

“The truth was very different from their ideas. I lived every moment

thinking that Angela should have been there by my side, and that life was
empty and meaningless without her.

“But I couldn’t tell them that. So after a very short while, I dropped out

of society. I ordered my yacht to be built to my specifications and set off
on my travels.”

“That is how the stories about you grew up,” Shona reflected.
“You mean about my being a monster?”

“Yes. I did not know what to expect when I first met you.”
He nodded.
“The tales have grown in the telling and I haven’t discouraged them

because it kept people away from me. As often as I could, I travelled the
world, looking for George Acton.”

“And you never found him?”
“No. I followed him from country to country, but he was always one

step ahead of me.”

“Do you think you will find him this time?”
It was a shot in the dark. She felt no more than a vague suspicion,

but it had grown the more she found out about him.

She knew she was right when she saw the startled look on his face.

For a moment she thought he would deny it, but then his shoulders
slumped.

“I should have realised that someone of your intelligence would

guess,” he said. “Yes, I am still after him, but I am moving carefully so as
not to attract attention.”

“But why do you need me?”
“Because you speak Greek. I have received information that he may

have settled in Athens. When we arrive, I will need someone who speaks
perfect Greek and who is on my side – someone I can trust not to betray
me to him.

“I will admit I had not intended to bring a woman on a trip that might

be dangerous, but I was running out of time and no suitable man
presented himself. So I seized on you and perhaps I should not have
done.”

“I am not going home now,” she said quickly.
“No, I don’t see how you can. You would fall straight into Lockwood’s

hands.”

“That is true, but it is not what I meant. You need me.”
He stared at her for a moment before saying quietly, “Yes, I believe I

do.”

“Of course it would have been easier if we could have found him in

France,” Shona observed.

“Easier?”
“He committed this dreadful crime in France, didn’t he? You could

have handed him over to the law there. It will be more difficult in Greece.”

“Yes,” he agreed after a moment.
“Or do you mean to take him back to England?”
“He didn’t commit his crime there either,” the Marquis said heavily.
“No, but his victim was English,” she argued. “Surely something

could be managed – ?”

“It is premature to talk about these possibilities before we find him,”

he interrupted her. “I simply have no way of knowing how matters will
eventuate in Greece.”

It was rare for him to speak to her in such a tone. His voice had

been sharp, almost as if he was snubbing her.

Then she reflected on how painful the subject must be to him. It was

understandable that he did not wish to dwell on it.

“You are looking tired,” he said suddenly. “I think it is time I took you

back.”

She wanted to protest that she would rather stay here, but she

sensed that he was only making an excuse to avoid discussing the
unpleasant subject any further.

So she smiled and agreed that it was time for them to leave.
Somehow the sun seemed to have gone in and the joy of the day

was over.

They had seemed to be growing close, and then, without warning,

he had given her a glimpse of the barriers surrounding him, barriers that
were always present, even though she had been so unwise as to forget
them.

Now she discovered that she really did feel weary and when they

reached the house she allowed herself to be sent to bed without protest.

*

Over the next few days she found she was able to get out of bed

more and more. Lionel was on his feet, having a good time, going for
rides, and sometimes playing with the Rivalier children.

The Marquis continued taking Shona for drives every day. They

steered clear of dangerous subjects, but there were many other subjects
to talk about.

He talked about his estate and his large mansion which was over

five hundred years old.

“There is a lake full of fish and beautiful woods where the deer run.

There are several farms, where labourers work to make the land fruitful.

“And in the house I am always conscious of the many generations of

my ancestors, the men who fought for their King and the women who
stayed at home and ran the estate.

“Their portraits hang in the picture gallery. There is Elizabeth, who

confronted an army of Cromwell’s soldiers in the Civil War. They wanted
to burn the house down, because of course we were Royalists. But
Elizabeth charmed the Major until he allowed the place to stand for her
sake.”

“I thought roundheads were immune to charm,” Shona remarked.
“Nobody was immune to Elizabeth’s charm apparently. The Major

not only did not burn the house, but he forbade his men to loot it.

“Then there was Sarah, Elizabeth’s daughter. Charles II fell in love

with her, but she was virtuous and rejected him. He laid a long siege, but
she was the one woman with whom he suffered total failure.”

The Marquis talked for hours, describing his ancestors so vividly

that Shona felt as though she could visualise them. They were very real to
him, and she had a feeling that he wanted them to be real to her.

He made no mention of love, but as they sat there under the trees

she could feel ardour flowing from him towards her, embracing her.

His eyes were saying the words that his lips could not speak and

she guessed that her own eyes were answering him. For her heart was
giving him her response and whenever he could say the words aloud,
she would be ready.

But the time could not be yet. She understood that.
‘If only it could be soon,’ she thought wistfully.
“I seem to have been talking a long time,” he said at last. “I hope I

haven’t bored you.”

“You know you haven’t,” she replied.
“Yes, I wanted you to ‘see’ my home and feel for it as I do. It is such

a beautiful place. I don’t spend as much time there as I should, but
wherever I am in the world it is always there in the back of my mind.

“I long for the day when I am free to return for good, and make it my

real home. And then – ”

He fell silent. His hand was holding hers.
“And then?” she asked, hardly daring to breathe.
He gave an almost inaudible sigh.
“It is time we were going back.”
He led her to the carriage, to help her in. At the last moment, he

drew her towards him and held her close.

No words were needed between them now.
She clung to him, pervaded by the sweetness of the moment,

wishing it might last forever.

But it was a vain wish. She knew that even then. All too soon reality

must intrude again. There were still mountains to climb before they could
declare their love.

He handed her into the buggy and they drove home in the fading

light, content simply to be together.

But the world would not be kept away. They sensed that their quiet,

blissful time was over as they turned a bend in the road and saw
Madame Rivalier standing by the garden gate, evidently waiting for them.

Even at a distance they could see her agitation and a terrible

foreboding rose in Shona.

The Marquis drew up beside her, asking urgently, “For pity’s sake,

Marie, what has happened?”

“We have an unexpected visitor,” Madame Rivalier said, almost

weeping. “He just marched in and started making himself unpleasant.

“His name is Colonel Lockwood. He says he is Shona’s father, and

he has come to take her home whether she likes it or not.”

CHAPTER NINE

Shona’s worst nightmare had come true. Her hands flew to her face.
“Oh, no,” she cried in despair. “How could he have found me here?”
“Then he

is

your father?” asked Madame Rivalier.

“No, he is my step-father. And he has no right to give me orders. He

is trying to force me to marry one of his friends. Oh, Madame, did you tell
him I was here?”

“Certainly not!” Her hostess was shocked at the suggestion. “He is

asking for a Miss Shona Winterton, of whom neither my husband nor I
have ever heard. We only know Madame Shona Winters, but we did not
feel it necessary to mention her.”

“You are such a dear friend,” Shona exclaimed in passionate

gratitude.

“Does he know anything about me?” the Marquis enquired.
“Oh, yes. Someone has told him that Shona is travelling on your

boat, but my husband said he could not recall having seen you recently.”

“He is a good fellow,” said the Marquis fervently.
“Yes, Charles can be extremely stupid when it is necessary,” said

Madame Rivalier. She could not resist adding, with wifely frankness,
“also at other times when it is most inconvenient.”

She collected herself.
“As soon as I heard the horrible, bullying way in which that man

spoke, I knew you must instantly make your escape, without seeing him.
So I came here to warn you not to go to the house.

“Your things have been packed and the carriage, bearing

everything, should be on its way to collect you at any moment,”

“What about Lionel?” the Marquis asked.
“Making him behave sensibly was most difficult,” Madame Rivalier

said with some asperity. “But in the end, Effie told him to shut up and do
as he was told. After that there was no problem.”

The Marquis grinned.
“Definitely she must marry him. I am not allowing this paragon to

escape from my family!”

At that moment the Rivalier carriage appeared from the far side of

the garden.

“Here they are now,” Marie announced. Go to your yacht quickly and

set sail and we will keep Colonel Lockwood talking as long as possible.”

The Marquis jumped down to the ground.
“Marie, we are behaving unforgivably. We have put you to so much

trouble. And now we are leaving your house like fugitives, without even a
proper goodbye.”

Laughing, she opened her arms.
“Then say goodbye properly,” she cried.
He embraced her and gave her a big smacking kiss.
“That will have to do until we come back this way – and very soon, I

hope,” he exclaimed.

“Of course you must,” she answered. “I want to know what happens.

Now here is the carriage. Hurry!”

The vehicle was nearing them with Effie looking out of one window

and Lionel looking out of the other.

Shona embraced her hostess, and whispered in her ear,
“Marie, you should have joined the Secret Service, you are so good

at intrigue!”

Which made her scream with delighted laughter.
The Marquis helped Marie up into the buggy so that she could drive

it home.

Then he and Shona climbed into the carriage, as it was pulling

away.

“Oh miss,” Effie cried. “There he was, as large as life and twice as

nasty and saying such terrible things.”

“Let him say all he likes,” the Marquis said grimly. “We are not going

to be around to hear him.”

“Why are you running away from him?” Lionel demanded. “Why not

just stay and crush him?”

“Because I don’t have the time,” the Marquis growled. “It goes

against the grain to run away, but he must wait until my main business is

attended to.”

“But – ”
“Hush!” Effie told him firmly. “His Lordship knows best.”
Lionel subsided.
Shona sat silently, her nerves in shreds. She had come so close to

falling into her step-father’s clutches that all her old fears came back
again to torment her.

“Just another few moments and he would have caught me,” she

murmured.

“Nonsense,” the Marquis replied firmly. “As though I would allow that

to happen.”

She could feel safe with him she told herself.
Nevertheless, she knew she would not be able to relax until they

were safely out to sea.

“Will the Captain be ready to leave?” she asked worriedly.
“Yes, I had planned to go soon anyway. Yesterday I sent him a

message telling him to be ready at a moment’s notice. If he heeded it,
we can sail at once. If he didn’t, he will not be long in my employ.”

At last Marseilles came into view and soon the carriage was

rumbling onto the quay.

The Captain came to greet them with the welcome news that all was

ready. They had only to board.

The sailors unloaded their luggage and carried it onto the ship. The

Marquis gave the driver a handsome tip and followed the others up the
gangway.

“Athens,” he ordered the Captain curtly.
He turned to Shona.
“For your own safety I suggest you go below until we are out at sea. I

will see you later.”

His tone was courteous but cool and she felt a twinge of dismay.
Of course he could not speak to her in front of others in the tender

way that she had grown accustomed to.

But still, it hurt to feel that he had now placed her at a distance for

reasons that she only partly understood.

Dangerous times were coming and he was telling her, in his own

way, that there were things she could not share with him.

The light was fading fast as they met for dinner that night.
Now that the truth was out in the open, Effie declined to join the other

three at the table, until Lionel knocked on her cabin door and insisted.

His uncle applauded him, rising to draw out Effie’s chair with his

charming smile.

“We four have embarked on this adventure together and there will

be no division between us now,” he said.

Lionel wanted to talk about the events of the day and exclaimed in

wonder at what had happened. He was fascinated by the whole story.

The Marquis allowed him to ramble on, occasionally interjecting

some remark worthy of a good host.

He played the role perfectly but Shona could feel that his mind was

elsewhere.

When the meal was over and Lionel and Effie had gone up on deck,

he turned to Shona and asked,

“Play for me please. Tonight I need the beauty your music can

create.”

They walked to the saloon where she played for an hour.
She felt somehow that the beautiful music from the piano was lifting

her up towards the stars which were now shining brightly in the sky.

Afterwards he bade her a brief goodnight, escorted her to her cabin

door and left her.

Inside the cabin she stood for a long time at the porthole, staring

into the night.

The stars were still very bright and the moon had taken on an almost

magical appearance.

‘Thank you God for letting me escape,’ she murmured, ‘and for

bringing me to him.’ At the thought of the man she loved, her eyes
softened.

‘I don’t know what is going to happen. I can sense that there is a

rocky path ahead. I believe he loves me, but he will never feel himself
free to love until he has brought this man to justice. He tried to tell me
that.

‘And who knows what we will have to go through together before the

path runs smooth for us. But it must run smooth in the end. There must
come a time when we can love each other in peace and joy.’

All the next day she was conscious that they were drawing closer to

Athens. She wanted to ask the Marquis so many questions, but
somehow she did not seem to encounter him.

He was avoiding her, she realised with a sinking heart.
But that night, after dinner, when she was standing at the rail, he

came to stand beside her.

“We will arrive tomorrow. Is there anything you would like to ask

me?”

“How can you be sure that he is in Athens?” she enquired.
“Because a friend wrote to inform me. There were few details, just

the name of a contact who can tell me more. That is why I need someone
who can speak fluent Greek.

“I want you to act as though you know nothing about my situation.

We will all spend the day sightseeing in Athens. In the evening we will
have dinner as usual and once the others have retired, you and I will go
ashore.”

“Are we going to arrest him together?”
“No. We are going to ascertain that he is in Athens as reported and

that I have found the right man. But I want your word that you will say
nothing about any of this to anyone else, particularly Lionel.”

“I promise.”
“Good. I am going to need your skills as never before.”
“Certainly,” Shona agreed.
“I want you to dress as you did at first, in dowdy clothes, with your

hair scraped back. People should think you are as old-fashioned and
fuddy-duddy as possible.”

“But why?”
He became suddenly curt.
“Please do not argue with me,” he snapped. “You are here to work

for me and take my orders, whatever they may be.”

Then, seeing her staring at him, he coloured uncomfortably.
“Forgive me. I did not mean to speak to you in such a way. The fact

is that we are going to the kind of place where I would not normally take a
lady. It isn’t dangerous, but neither is it salubrious. It is for the best if you
look as unattractive as possible.”

“I understand,” she said quietly.

But in truth she understood nothing.
Why was he suddenly filled with such tension?
Why had he started behaving as though he was angry with her?
“Now go and get some rest,” he said, “for tomorrow will be a long

day.”

Next morning they docked in Athens.
Shona passed the day in a dream, going through the motions of

sight-seeing, talking from the most superficial layer of her brain.

By the time they returned to the ship she could not have said where

they had been or what they had seen.

She did not have to parry any questions from Lionel. But once or

twice she caught him looking at her strangely and wondered how much
he suspected.

When everything was quiet and dark, she made herself as drab as

possible and joined the Marquis on deck.

A closed carriage was waiting for them on the quay. They climbed in

without a word and he gave an address to the driver, again using his curt
tone.

He did not speak on the journey, and Shona could sense that he

was sunk in mysterious gloom.

Pushing aside the blinds she saw that they were travelling through

dingy little streets, full of mean shops and cafés.

It struck Shona as sinister and she was glad she did not have to

come here alone.

At last the carriage stopped. The Marquis handed her down and

kept hold of her arm as they descended a flight of narrow steps and into
a poorly lit café.

A shabby little man looked up sharply, as though he had been

expecting them, pointed to a table in the corner and grunted a few words
in Greek.

“He wants to know if you are Mr. Dayton,” Shona said.
“Tell him that I am.”
She repeated the message. The Greek nodded and vanished

through a curtain covering a narrow door.

They sat down and Shona looked around her anxiously.
“It’s all right,” the Marquis reassured her. “We won’t be here long.

They have a message for me, which I shall need you to translate. Then
we will go.”

After a moment the curtain was pulled back and a woman came in.

She was in her forties with a sharp, knowing face, and glittering eyes that
flickered from one to the other.

At last she barked a question, which Shona answered at once.
“What did she say?” the Marquis demanded.
“She says you were supposed to come alone,” Shona replied. “I told

her that I am your interpreter.”

The woman sniggered and Shona repeated what she had said,

which made the woman laugh louder.

“It is true,” Shona flashed.
“You should make sure that it is,” the woman snapped. “No man can

be trusted. I, Helena Farras, tell you so.”

“Her name is Helena Farras, and she seems to have a grudge

against all men,” Shona relayed to the Marquis.

“I am not concerned with all men, only with one. Tell her so.”
Shona translated, and Helena nodded.
From the bar she fetched a bottle and three glasses, which she filled

and sat down at the table. Shona shook her head at the liquid, which
looked alarmingly strong, but the Marquis drank his in one gulp.

“Now tell me how to find him,” he demanded.
“He lives in a house just outside Athens,” Helena said. “He lives a

wicked life with many women. When he has finished with them, he throws
them out.”

“I want the exact address,” the Marquis commanded when Shona

had finished translating.

Helena gave it laboriously, and Shona wrote it down.
“He lives under the name of Sir Reginald Cranton,” Helena added.

“He is supposed to be a great English milord. But in truth he is a – ”

She finished by spitting out a curse in Greek. It was a word that

Shona had never heard before, but she had no doubt of its meaning.

“Ask her what wrong he did her,” the Marquis asked.
But Helena shook her head.
“That I will not speak about,” she declared proudly. “But he must get

what he deserves. If I can see that, I will be happy.”

“Tell her that she will not see it,” the Marquis said. “It will happen far

away. But she has my solemn word that this man will pay for what he has
done.”

Shona translated, and noticed that Helena seemed satisfied.
There was something about the Marquis’s manner and his dark

bitter eyes that made his vow of retribution believable.

He rose, as did Shona. At the last minute he tried to press some

money into Helena’s hand, but, although obviously very poor, she shook
her head.

“Just bring him to justice,” she snarled and vanished through the

curtain without saying goodbye.

Outside in the street Shona gave the address to the driver.
She did not speak until they were moving. Then, in the semi-

darkness, without looking at the Marquis, she asked,

“What will you do when we get there?”
“I can make no plans until I am sure that Sir Reginald Cranton is the

man I seek.”

To Shona’s relief they were leaving behind the down-at-heel part of

the city. The houses were now looking smarter, wealthier, until they
reached a part of town that she recognised.

“I came here four years ago, with Mama and Papa,” she said. “I

thought the address looked familiar. If he can afford to live here he must
have a great fortune.”

“He had plenty of money in those days,” he said bitterly. “I dare say

he has increased it since by nefarious means. But staying one step
ahead of the law must be costly in bribes.”

“But would he have known that you were pursuing him?” Shona

enquired.

In the near darkness she could just make out his smile. It was unlike

any smile she had seen – cold, cruel, almost wolfish.

“Oh yes,” he said softly. “He knows that. He has known it for twelve

years.”

She did not ask any more questions.
At last they reached a wide, tree-lined street and soon they were

outside the correct address.

But it was immediately clear that something was wrong. The house

was in almost total darkness.

One light burned downstairs, and through the window they could see

an elderly man and woman, moving slowly about.

“The bird has flown,” the Marquis muttered grimly. “Someone has

warned him.”

He was forced to knock many times at the door before there was

any sign of a reply. But at last they heard a slow shuffle, as if an elderly
person was coming.

The door opened a crack and they could see one eye.
“Who is it?” the woman cried in a shrill voice. “What do you want?”
“We seek Sir Reginald Cranton,” Shona called.
“He’s not here,” the woman snapped, trying to close the door.
But the Marquis managed to slide his hand through the crack and

hold it there, no matter how hard she tried to slam the door shut.

He must have been fearfully bruised, Shona thought, but he would

not yield.

The woman shouted at him to go. He demanded that she talk to him

and a violent argument ensued, with Shona caught in the middle.

Now she knew how desperately he had needed to bring her on this

journey. He could never have managed alone.

Back and forth the argument raged with Shona doing her best to

understand and translate a rough accent.

“Where has he gone,” the Marquis insisted. “I must know.”
“She swore not to tell,” Shona said when the woman had gabbled

something. “She is afraid of him.”

“Then she had better get away from him as fast as she can. This will

help her.”

Some gold coins flashed. The woman’s eyes gleamed as she

reached for the money.

“First she tells me everything,” the Marquis said firmly, tightening his

grip on the money.

Bit by bit, the story came out.
Sir Reginald had been here until three days ago. Then a man had

appeared in a very agitated state. He and Sir Reginald had talked
together for a long time, with lots of shouting.

Then Sir Reginald had ordered his belongings to be packed and

loaded onto a carriage. The coachman had driven down to the port and
put him and his servants onto the next boat.

“To where?” the Marquis asked in agony.
“Cyprus,” Shona translated. “It seems that he is known to the Sultan

and has taken refuge with him in Limassol.”

“Does she know why?”
Shona asked and received a stream of almost incoherent words.
“A man is pursuing him. He is very much afraid of this man and must

escape him at all costs,” she relayed.

“He is right to be afraid,” the Marquis murmured.
He handed over the gold which the woman snatched eagerly.
“Tell her to leave here,” he said. “Tell her that her master will never

return.”

He drew Shona away and they returned to the carriage.
Throughout the journey he sat with his arms wrapped around his

body, sunk in a gloomy dream. As soon as they reached the ship, he
strode straight off to see the Captain.

A figure appeared on deck beside Shona. It was Lionel in his

dressing gown, looking as though he had just woken up.

“Did he find him?”
“Find who?” Shona parried, mindful of her promise to the Marquis.
“Oh, Shona, don’t treat me like a fool. I know why he came all this

way. Why do you think I insisted on being with him one way or another? I
would have come with you tonight, but he fooled me into thinking it was
all set for tomorrow.”

She stared at Lionel, wondering what to say.
“Shona, did he find this man?”
“No, he has escaped to Cyprus,” she said distractedly.
“Then I suppose that is where we are now going. And then perhaps

on to somewhere else, and then on again, until he tracks him down.
Because he will track him down, if it takes until the end of his days. You
must try to stop him.”

“How can I stop him?”
“You are the one person who can, because you hold out for him the

hope of a better life. With you he can live in the future instead of always in
the past.

“If you don’t turn him aside from his obsession, he will still be on this

quest in twenty or thirty years time, consumed and tormented by
Angela’s ghost, growing old and gaunt and increasingly mad. Can’t you
see that?”

Shona could see it. The picture he had conjured up was horrible, but

she knew that the Marquis was already set on that path. If he could not be
saved now, the passing of the years would make it a hundred times
worse.

She covered her face, trying to blot out the dreadful picture. If she,

who loved him, could not save him, then nobody could.

But there was only one way for her to save him and that was to help

him find justice for his Angela. She could never urge him to abandon his
unavenged love.

“I cannot turn him back,” she said. “I can only go along with him, and

help him.”

“Then you must make sure that I come too, because if you don’t –

hush, he is coming.”

The Marquis was nearing them along the deck. He nodded briefly at

Lionel.

“Is Effie aboard?”
“Yes, she has gone to bed,” Lionel said.
“Good, then we set sail in an hour.”
“You should not have gone without me,” Lionel burst out. “Don’t

blame Shona. I guessed.”

“You make a great deal of fuss about a small matter,” the Marquis

told him coolly. “Go to bed now. I have told the Captain to set sail for
Limassol.”

“And then what?” Lionel questioned.
“Then I shall find him and bring him to justice.”
His glance flickered towards Shona. It was cool and distant, as

though they were strangers.

“I suggest you get some sleep,” he said. “We have much work

ahead of us.”

He gave her a small nod and walked away, without looking back.

CHAPTER TEN

As long as she could remember Shona had dreamed of visiting the

magical East. And to her, the gateway to the East was Cyprus.

As a child she had been enchanted by the story of how Aphrodite,

the Goddess of Love had first appeared among humans, by rising from
the waves of the Mediterranean sea.

Cleopatra, the legendary Queen of Egypt, who enslaved men’s

hearts, had enjoyed lingering on Cyprus. Perhaps she had visited some
of the many temples to Aphrodite that had sprung up all over the island.

Best of all, Shona had loved the wonderful story of how King Richard

the Lionheart had besieged the island to rescue his bride, the Princess
Berengaria of Navarre.

Having rescued her, he married her there and then and crowned her

Queen of England.

Truly, Cyprus had earned its name,

The Island of Love

.

But would it be an

Island of Love

for her, or the place where her

dreams died? She had longed to visit Cyprus some day, but not like this.

They reached Limassol at dawn. Even at that hour the port was

alive. Standing on the deck, Shona watched as the gangway was
lowered and the Captain went ashore, heading for the Harbour Master’s
Office.

She came to a sudden decision. It was no longer enough for her to

trail in the wake of the Marquis meekly doing as he bid. She was not just
his employee. She was the woman who loved him and she would do
everything in her power to bring him safely through the dangers ahead.

So she slipped back down to her cabin and hurriedly selected her

plainest clothes. Luckily Effie was a heavy sleeper so she managed to
change without being discovered.

When she was finished, she took a dark shawl and wrapped it

around her head so that her hair was covered and as much of her face

as possible was concealed.

Finally she scribbled a note to Effie.
“

I have gone ashore for a while. Please tell Lord Chilworth not to

worry.

”

Then she scurried out, up to the deck and down the gangway. In

another minute she was lost in the crowds that were already growing.

For a while she kept to herself, listening to the Greek being spoken

around her, accustoming herself to the local accent.

Soon the Sultan’s castle came into view. The gates were open,

allowing carts piled with supplies, to pass through.

In their wake came women, laden with heavy baskets. One of them,

a big brawny creature with a harsh, tanned face, collided with Shona,
knocking her back against the wall and spilling her fruit onto the cobbles.

“Look where you’re going,” she snapped. “Now see what you’ve

done!”

Shona apologised profusely and began gathering up the fruit.
“Let me help you,” she said. “I can carry one of the bags for you.”
Mollified by this courtesy, the woman agreed. In a few moments they

were friends and when she made her way through the castle gates,
Shona was beside her.

*

She returned to the ship three hours later, glowing with triumph.
As she had expected, her three companions were leaning over the

rail. The Marquis’s face was dark with fear and anger.

“What the devil do you mean by going off alone like that?” he raged

as soon as she was aboard. “Have you any idea what could have
happened to you?”

“On the contrary, I was a great deal safer than you would have

been,” Shona replied, facing him defiantly. “I speak their language and
can fade into the crowd. You would have stood out.”

“You should have informed me first,” he growled through gritted

teeth. “Then you would have tried to stop me or come with me.”

“I would have

insisted

on coming with you.”

“There, you see? You prove my point. You would have greatly

impeded me. I managed much better without you.”

Seeing that she had left him speechless, Shona turned to Effie.
“Effie dear, do forgive me for doing this to you. I had an idea and

needed to act on it quickly.” She turned back to the Marquis.

“I hope you did not make yourself unpleasant to Effie. She knew

nothing about my absence until she woke up.”

“Let me assure you, madam, that I am enough of a gentleman not to

blame others for the actions of an idiotic woman, who appears to have
abandoned the wits God gave her – ” He checked himself with a sound
that was almost a snarl. “Never mind that. Where have you been?”

“I have been about your business and I have made discoveries that

you need to know about. Am I too late for breakfast?”

“I believe some may still be available,” he responded, speaking with

difficulty.

“Then let us go below.”
Effie and Lionel vanished discreetly.
As soon as they were in the dining room the Marquis’s control broke

and he seized Shona by the shoulders.

“Have you any idea what you have just put me through?” he

demanded, giving her a little shake. “I have been terrified out of my wits.”

“Then you should not have been. I am far more at ease here than

you could ever be.”

“That is not the –

Shona

!”

He gave up the argument, tightening his arms around her so that

she was crushed against him.

His lips found hers in a fierce, bruising kiss that took her breath

away. Shona relaxed in his arms, happy in the one embrace she had
longed for.

“Shona – Shona – ” he breathed huskily. “My darling, my beloved – ”
“My love,” she murmured, kissing him back with all her heart and

soul.

“I was so afraid that I would never see you again. If anything had

happened to you – what would I do?”

He drew back and looked down into her face.
“I love you,” he said. “Don’t you know that? Have I not made it

obvious?”

“I have so wanted you to love me,” she sighed ecstatically. “For I

love you too with all my heart. But I was afraid that the time would never
come for us.”

“It will come – very shortly. We must be patient a little while. But oh,

my love, kiss me again – tell me that you love me.”

She told him what he wanted to know with words and with silent

kisses. When they had kissed fervently again and again, they stood
contentedly holding each other.

At last Shona said,
“But you haven’t asked me what I discovered.”
“It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters as long as you are safe.”
But then he sighed and said,
“Yes, of course it does matter. I cannot neglect my duty, even for

you, my darling.”

“I know. That was why I was determined to help you.”
“If you have discovered anything – ”
“I managed to start talking with a woman who delivers fruit to the

Sultan’s castle.”

“Is George Acton there?” the Marquis asked sharply.
“Not actually in the castle. The Sultan has given him a house on the

edge of town because Acton insisted on hiding away. But all the servants
know about it. The Sultan sends him delicacies every day and his
address is no secret.”

“Tell me where to find him.”
“I will tell you tonight, and I am coming with you.”
“It would be best if you did not.”
“I disagree. I am definitely coming with you, and without the address

you cannot find him without me.”

“

Shona

!”

“I mean it.”
He could see by her expression that she really did mean it and a

strange feeling came over him.

Sometimes he had confused her with Angela, as though they were

the same woman.

But deep inside his consciousness, he had always realised that this

was not so.

Angela had been frail, always ready to lean on him and relay on him

to decide everything for her.

Shona was a strong, independent female. She could stand up to

him and take care of herself.

Now he could see clearly how different they were and he was

pervaded by a sensation of release. This woman was no ghost of the
past, but a vibrant being who could take him into the future.

He kissed her tenderly.
“Very well,” he agreed. “We will go together.”

*

In the event all four of them left the ship quietly that evening, for Effie

insisted on accompanying Shona, and Lionel was determined to
accompany Effie.

The hired carriage was large enough for six, so that there would be

room enough to return with their prisoner.

And there was someone else who joined them at the last minute,

although none of them knew it.

At the last minute a figure slipped through the darkness and climbed

into the trunk at the back of the carriage.

Shona had given the driver directions and they headed for the

outskirts of Limassol.

Looking out of the carriage Shona thought how magical this island

would have been at any other time.

The very air seemed heavy with the scent and spices of the East.

Palm trees waved in the breeze and far off she could see the moonlight
on the water.

It was the very essence of romance, just as she had always thought

Cyprus would be.

But tonight she could not think of love and passion. Tonight there

was serious business to be accomplished. And who knew how things
would turn out?

At last they reached their destination. It was a discreet little villa,

surrounded by high walls, with a firmly closed wrought iron gate at the
front.

“This is where we leave you ladies,” the Marquis announced. “We

are going to have to climb these walls.”

“No need for that,” Shona declared. “We can go in by the gate.”
“You think they are just going to let us in?” he asked doubtfully.
“I don’t see why not,” she replied calmly. “Stay in the carriage, all of

you. Effie, look out of the window. The others, stay hidden.”

Nobody thought of disobeying her. It was obvious that, of them all,

she had the clearest idea of what she was doing.

She descended from the carriage and rang the bell. The

gatekeeper opened up and looked at her suspiciously.

“The Sultan has sent us,” she said in Greek, “for Sir Richard.”
“Us?”
“My friend and myself,” Shona said, indicating Effie’s face in the

window of the carriage door. “We are a very special present from the
Sultan for Sir Richard.”

The gatekeeper’s eyes boggled.
“Both of you?”
“The Sultan is a very generous man,” Shona replied gravely.
“But Sir Richard already has two women with him.”
“Can a man have too many?” Shona asked with a knowing smile.

“The Sultan does not wish Sir Richard to feel – er – deprived in any way.
And so he sends us to attend to his comfort.”

The man sniggered knowingly and opened the gate. Shona hopped

quickly back into the carriage and they passed through.

“What exactly did you say to him?” the Marquis wanted to know.
Shona smiled. She was exhilarated with victory.
“I told him Effie and I were a gift from the Sultan.”
“Good grief!” he said faintly. “Of all the insane things to say – ”
“Well, you would not have got in if I hadn’t,” she responded,

exasperated by the Marquis’s attitude.

“By the way,” she added, “he is already enjoying the company of two

women, which is useful.”

“Is it?” he queried, startled.
“If it was male companions they might have fought for him. But I do

not think harem ladies will fight.”

“That’s true.”

The carriage had stopped. They all slid quietly out and crept to the

huge windows.

The room inside was luxuriously furnished with silks and brocades.

Golden goblets stood on a nearby table. Cushions were scattered
everywhere.

There was only one occupant, a tall man with a narrow face, wearing

a richly decorated dressing gown. He was pouring a glass of wine from a
jug that looked as though it was made of gold, studded with jewels.

As they watched he called something over his shoulder, apparently

in answer to a sound from beyond an open door.

“Is it him?” Shona whispered. The Marquis became deadly pale.

“Yes,” he growled. “It

is

him.”

With a swift movement, he pushed open the window and climbed

into the room.

George Acton froze at the sight of him. From his ghastly expression

Shona had no doubt that he recognised the Marquis, and knew that
retribution had finally arrived.

“You,” he whispered.
“Yes, me,” the Marquis said in a voice of deathly quiet.
Swiftly the others followed him through the window and joined him in

the room.

“You have been expecting me at any time these last twelve years,”

the Marquis spat at him. “You were clever, always evading me, but I was
bound to catch you one day. And now that day is here.”

Acton had slightly recovered himself.
“You cannot do anything to me here,” he jeered. “It’s too late.”
There was a silence. Shona had a horrible feeling that it was true.

What legal authority could touch him in Cyprus?

Then the Marquis drew aside his coat and pulled a pistol from his

belt.

Shona gasped in disbelief.
“I am taking you back with me,” the Marquis snapped.
“Because one way or another, you are going to pay for the murder of

my wife.”

Acton met his eyes defiantly.
“Go to the devil,” he said. “You cannot force me to leave. You have

no power. No one in England will care about something that happened in
France twelve years ago.”

“That may be true,” the Marquis replied quietly. “But I told you – one

way or the other.”

He raised the pistol, aiming it straight at his enemy’s heart.
In that moment it all came back to Shona, Lionel’s mysterious

words,

‘Perhaps he is going to do something terrible – I don’t know – I

don’t think he knows either. He won’t know until the very last minute.’

This was what he had suspected. All along, Lionel had known that

the Marquis might have murder in his heart.

Shona’s hands flew to her mouth. She wanted to cry out, to beg the

Marquis not to pull the trigger. But she was frozen.

She could not speak.
She could not move.
At this moment she knew she did not exist for him.
His world consisted only of himself and his enemy and their moment

of truth.

In the silence Shona was vividly aware of the others. Lionel and Effie

too were held petrified. They knew, as she did, that they could not help.
Any intervention from them would be calamity.

For a long moment the Marquis kept his pistol aimed straight at

Acton’s heart.

At any second Shona expected to hear the shot that would part her

from him for ever.

For, however she might sympathise, there could be nothing between

them after he had shot down a man in cold blood.

‘For pity’s sake, stop while you can,’ she whispered in her heart.

‘Whatever you do, don’t make our love impossible.’

It seemed that time stood still.
Then something happened.
A violent shudder passed through the Marquis. His face, until then

made of stone, seemed to soften and a despairing weariness came
over him.

He lowered his pistol.
“I should shoot you down like a dog – it is what you deserve,” he

growled. “But it would be too good for you. I am taking you back to
England. You will answer to the law for murder.”

Shona came out of her trance to find that she was shaking with

relief.

The moment was over.
The danger was past.
But Acton was smirking.
“I am going nowhere with you,” he sneered. “You are beaten. The

law has no hold on me, either here or in England.”

Defiantly he raised the glass he had just filled and drained it.
The next moment he gave a yell of outrage at the handcuff that had

appeared, as if by magic, on his wrist.

The other cuff was round the wrist of a powerfully built young man

who had stepped out from the shadows.

“Now that is where you are wrong, Acton,” he said. “The law in

England is very interested in you.”

Effie screamed.
“

Jimmy

!”

“Hallo, love,” he said, nodding to her briefly. “We’ll talk later. George

Acton, I arrest you for the murder of Jonathan Acton, in London in the
year 1863.”

“You can’t prove a thing,” Acton flashed.
“We’ll have a damned good try,” Jimmy informed him. “Come on

with you now.”

Acton opened his mouth to yell for help, but Lionel had his hands

round his throat.

“Not a sound,” he said. “Let’s all get going.”
But before they could move there was a noise from beyond the door

and the next moment a man appeared. He was dressed only in a flimsy
night shirt and seemed to be in a state of indignant tipsiness.

“Dammit, that little filly’s playing hard to get,” he shouted. “Tell her

she – ”

He stopped and looked around the room in appalled silence.
“Good evening, Colonel,” Shona said.
“So this is where you are, my lady,” he said, in a slurred voice. “At

last. Now you are coming with me – ”

He reached out to grasp her, staggered and had to catch hold of the

furniture.

Jimmy made a fist.
“Want me to sock him on the jaw for you?” he asked Shona

cheerfully.

“No, that is my privilege,” the Marquis volunteered, stepping forward.
But Shona stopped him.
“No,” she said quietly. “He’s

mine

.”

She did not actually punch her step-father on the jaw. There was no

need. She merely gave his swaying figure a push, toppling him so that he
ended up sprawled on the floor.

“Why don’t we all just go now?” she suggested.
They began to move off. Acton tried to fight, but Lionel gagged him

and helped Jimmy to hold him fast.

Shona cast a contemptuous look at Colonel Lockwood, trying to

struggle to his feet and then took the hand the Marquis held out to her.

In a moment they were back in the carriage and heading for the

gate.

“Will they let us out?” Effie asked worriedly.
“Leave that to me,” Shona said.
She glimpsed a look of admiration and confidence cross the

Marquis’s face. It was as though he was saying that now he knew he
could leave anything to her. His trust in her was total.

As they reached the gate the keeper stepped forward. She looked

out, smiling.

“Sir Richard does not need us tonight,” she called. “We are to return

tomorrow. In the meantime – ”

She opened her hand, revealing gold coins.
“His instructions are to give you these as soon as we are through

the gate,” she said.

The gatekeeper moved as fast as he could, and in a moment they

were through. Shona tossed him the coins, the carriage gathered speed
and they were on their way.

“

Wait – stop

!”

The faint cry came from far back on the drive. Looking out of the

windows, they all saw the ridiculous figure of Colonel Lockwood chasing

after them, as well as he could manage in bare feet and night shirt.

He reached the gate just as the keeper had locked it again. And the

last they saw of him was having a violent argument, trying to get through
the gate.

“How does he come to be here?” Effie asked.
“We followed you on a ship from England,” Jimmy said.
“We?” she demanded.
“He was looking out of the window as you left the house in London.

He saw you driving off in a cab.”

“Yes, I remember,” Effie agreed.
“A footman chased you. He lost the cab, but not before he wrote

down the number, so the Colonel was able to trace it. That way, he
pursued you to Lord Chilworth’s house, but it was too late. You had gone.
But he was never far behind. He chartered a ship and followed you.”

“But how do you come to be here?” Shona wanted to know.
“I turned up at the Colonel’s house, looking for Effie. I wanted to sort

out our little misunderstanding. Lockwood said he knew where to find
you, so I travelled with him.

“But when I found out about the man you were chasing,” Jimmy

added with a sulphurous glance at George Acton, “it all became
different. My superiors in the force are very interested in him. I will
probably get my promotion now, and with that I can afford to marry.”

He winked at Effie, who beamed back at him.
“Who was Jonathan Acton?” asked the Marquis. It was the first time

he had spoken.

“His father. He was a very wealthy man. All this creature here could

do was spend money. In the end Jonathan refused to pay any more of his
son’s debts, and soon after that he died, very mysteriously.

“There was a lot of suspicion, but nobody could prove anything and

so George Acton inherited his father’s fortune.

“Later, certain facts came to light. A witness appeared. But by then

he had vanished. I am obliged to you, my Lord, for tracking him down for
us.”

“You’re bluffing,” Acton gasped. “You cannot prove anything.”
“Can’t I, sir? Well, we will let an English jury decide that. We’ve

found the arsenic and we’ve found the witness who saw you put it in the

old man’s tea.

“It’s a pity he didn’t come forward earlier, but he was afraid of you.

But he won’t be afraid when he sees you locked up in a cell.”

Acton made a sound like a snake hissing.
“How did my step-father know where to go to after Marseilles?”

Shona asked.

“Easy. He had someone watching the port, who discovered your

route from the Harbour Master. He was never far behind you after that.

“When we landed in Limassol, he heard about Acton. They were old

drinking cronies you know, years ago. So he went to find him.

“I went, too, but not with the Colonel. I was clinging to the back of

your carriage. I thought it would better to take him by surprise.”

He turned his attention back to Acton.
“And I did, didn’t I, you horrible man. Now, stop struggling. You

cannot get away, and we’re nearly at the port.”

Jimmy then addressed the Marquis.
“Is it all right with you, my Lord, if I return on your boat?”
“Nothing would please me more,” the Marquis replied fervently. “We

will set sail for England straight away.”

A few minutes later they reached the quay and pulled up by their

ship. The Captain was watching for them and immediately sent four
sailors down to the carriage.

With their help the fiercely struggling George Acton was hauled

aboard the ship, with Jimmy following, keeping a stern eye on his
prisoner, who was hauled off to be locked into a cabin.

Lionel looked around for Effie, but she had already hurried aboard

in Jimmy’s wake.

The Marquis paid the driver. He seemed to be moving almost in a

trance, as though his mind was elsewhere.

When Shona laid her hand on his arm, he gave her a faint

abstracted smile.

She felt a slight chill. Was this the end? After all the words of love he

had spoken, might she still discover that he did not love her after all, now
that she had served his purpose?

“Come,” he said quietly. “Let us go.”
They climbed quickly aboard and sailors began to haul up the

gangway. But at the last moment a figure came flying out of the
darkness, shrieking,

“

Wait

!

Stop I say

!”

Nightshirt flapping around his bare legs, Colonel Lockwood hurled

himself at the gangway just as it was pulled clear of the quay.

“Stop!” called the Captain.
With the gangway halted, he looked enquiringly at the Marquis, while

the Colonel dangled absurdly in mid-air.

At that moment the ship began to move, leaving a widening strip of

clear water between it and the quay. Now there was no way the Colonel
could return.

“What shall I do, sir?” the Captain asked.
“Why not just leave him there?” Lionel enquired. “He can cling on

until we reach England.”

A yell from the gangway told him that the Colonel had heard this

observation. He began to haul himself up, hand over hand until he could
set his feet down.

Then he clambered the rest of the way and climbed over the side

onto the deck.

“Good grief!” Lionel said faintly. “You can’t exhibit legs like those in

front of the ladies.”

“Ladies? What ladies?” the Colonel raged. “Neither of them are

ladies – ”

The rest came out as a gurgle as a pair of ruthless hands lifted him

bodily into the air. Jimmy had returned just in time to hear his words.

“You’ve got the wrong ship,” he grated. “that’s yours, over there.”
With one easy movement he tossed the Colonel over the side.

There was a splash as he hit the water.

“I have wanted to do that all the way out from England,” Jimmy

remarked, observing his victim’s floundering with enthusiasm. “Don’t
worry. He can swim.

And look, there’s a boat picking him up already.”
He turned away from the rail.
“That’s that,” he said. “We can forget about him now. Acton’s locked

up below and two of your Lordship’s crew are standing guard.

“With your Lordship’s permission I would like to work out a roster, so

there are never less than two men outside his door.”

“Do whatever seems right to you,” the Marquis replied. “I will tell the

Captain to take instructions in this matter from you.”

“Thank you, my Lord. I will be spending a lot of time on guard myself,

of course. But just at the moment I have other urgent business.”

His eyes lit on Effie.
“Oh Jimmy,” Effie said softly, “You came after me.”
He looked abashed.
“I said some things that I didn’t mean, my love.
know you are true to me.”
Effie flung herself into his arms. Lionel watched them with a glum

face.

“Well – ” he said, trying to sound hearty. “Well – ”
“Jimmy, this is the Honourable Lionel Hilton, Lord Chilworth’s

nephew,” Effie explained, disentangling herself. “Mr. Hilton, this is my
fiancé.”

Jimmy gave Lionel an odd look, but shook his hand, then drew his

beloved quickly away.

Lionel sighed.
“Mr. Hilton,” he said. “She used to call me Lionel.”
“She was too good for you,” the Marquis told him.
“Yes,” Lionel agreed sadly. “A pearl among women. Ah, well.”
He trailed unhappily out of sight.
Finally the Marquis turned to Shona.
She saw that he looked exhausted.
At the same time, there was something in his face that she had not

seen before, as though a huge burden had finally been lifted.

“Is it well, now?” she enquired.
“Yes, it is well?”
“Taking him back to face an English court – will that give you all you

want?”

“It will give Angela a kind of justice, and I can finally be at ease.
“But it will not give me all I want, for I want something much more.”
“Yes?” she asked breathlessly.
He took her hand and they began to move along the deck, to where

nobody could see them.

“First,” he said, “I must explain something to you.”
He was silent for a long time, but she said nothing.
She knew that what he was about to say was difficult for him and

she must let him find his own way.

“I meant to do it,” he said at last. “These past years, while I was

tracking him down, I always knew that I might have to kill him, if there was
no other way. I told myself that I was ready to do it and to fail would be to
betray Angela.

“And then, when I had him in my sights and my finger on the trigger,

something happened that I cannot explain.

“Angela was there. I saw her as clearly as I see you now. She was

standing in front of Acton, holding up her hand as if to ward me off. And
then she spoke.”

He fell silent again.
“What did she say?” Shona asked breathlessly.
“She said,

‘for pity’s sake, stop while you can

.

Whatever you do,

don’t make love impossible’

.”

Shona drew a sharp breath, as she recognised the words that were

almost the same as her prayer.

“It was true,” he said. “If I had fired that shot, it would have divided

us. I would probably have been hauled off toprison, and even if I hadn’t –
”

“We could not have been together,” Shona whispered.
“She knew that. Angela must have known how much I love and need

you and that was why she stopped me.

“As she lay dying in my arms, with her last breath she promised to

love me into eternity, and watch over me from another world. Now I know
that she has kept her word, when she freed me to love again.”

“Are you truly free at last?” Shona asked him.
“Truly free at last. My beloved, there are so many things I have

wanted to say to you, but I knew I must not say them while all this hung
over me.

“Now I can see clearly, and I know that you are the woman I love, and

shall love for all time. If you cannot love me – “

“But I can,” she sighed, laying a finger over his lips. “I can and I do. I

always will, my darling.”

“I don’t know how I was lucky enough to find you,” the Marquis

admitted humbly. “It seems to me a kind of miracle.”

“It is a miracle to me too,” she agreed. “But I know that we were

meant to be together, now and always.”

He drew her close for the first kiss of their new life. It was a promise

for the future, the future they would share together.

Then he dropped down on one knee, looked up at her shining face

and spoke the words Shona was above all longing to hear,

“

My darling will you do me the honour of becoming my wife

?”

Overcome with happiness she flew into his arms, whispering “yes,

yes, yes” into his ear, before their lips met in such a passionate kiss that
Shona felt her heart and soul joining his in a union of joy and ecstasy.

“We will be married as soon as we reach England” he murmured

happily.

Dawn was already beginning to break, casting a soft light over the

sea as the yacht ploughed on through the water, taking them home.