“I will indeed,” Gretna promised and waved goodbye from the Hackney carriage as it drove away, leaving Mrs. Merryweather staring after her with a troubled expression on her kind fat face.
Gretna settled herself in the corner of the carriage and then opened her purse to be quite certain that she had enough money to pay the fare.
Now she was alone, all the questions and problems that had been troubling her the night before came rushing back with renewed violence to make an onslaught on her mind and serenity.
Could it be true what she had overheard?
That the Prince of Wales was in love with Aunt Maria?
Mistress Fitzherbert was not really an aunt, but ever since Maria Smythe had ‘adopted’ her as a baby, as Mrs. Merryweather would so often recall, she had looked up to her, loved her and ev
