CHAPTER ONE
1899A few miles from Paris the road curved and soon they were bowling along on the last stretch through the country under the trees.
“We should be reaching the house very soon,” Lady Verna remarked, looking about eagerly.
“Don’t you worry, mademoiselle,” replied Gaston, her driver. “I know where we are going.”
The car was a magnificent machine, the very latest model from the Daimler factory. Gaston loved driving it, but he was very conscious that it did not belong to him.
He was simply the hired driver for the spirited and decisive young English lady who sat in the passenger seat beside him.
She had a definite air about her that he knew from experience came only from belonging to the aristocracy. She was charming, but it was clear that she was used to having her own way
