“It sounds delightful,” Lord Branscombe said sarcastically. “And I presume when you took part in this diabolical plot to deceive me, it did not strike you that you were putting your own hand into a hornet’s nest?”
Latonia did not understand and, as she looked at him in a puzzled fashion, he said harshly,
“You cannot be so stupid as not to realise what damage you have done to your reputation by travelling alone with me, pretending to be my niece when you are in fact no relation.”
The way he spoke was so scathing that almost before she realised the full impact of what he was saying, Latonia felt the blood rising in her cheeks.
“I-I – will go – home at – once,” she said quickly, “and no one will – know.”
“Do you really believe that is possible?” Lord Branscombe asked. “The English papers
