CHAPTER THREEDriving back to Dawlish Castle, the Marquis thought with satisfaction that he had been exceedingly clever.
Everything had gone according to plan except that he had had a considerable battle with Ajanta to get his own way.
Even when she had come downstairs with the gown to be used as a pattern tied up in a neat parcel, she was still fighting him.
He thought that she was very pale, but her skin had the translucence of a pearl as she stood in the doorway of the library.
While she was upstairs, he had been writing several letters that must go to London and he put down the quill pen and waited for her to speak.
“You are quite – certain,” she asked in a low voice, “that this is the – right thing for me to – do?”
“It is what I want you to do,” the Marquis said, “and quite frank
