He drew her a little nearer and now she was beside him, half-kneeling at his feet, her face turned up towards his, her curls seeming to halo her head, her eyes a little troubled and her mouth drooping a little as if she was still smarting from the blow he had just given her.
“Gretna,” the Marquis declared and his voice was low. “I think we were fated to meet today. Do you feel that too?”
“I-I don’t – know,” Gretna stammered.
“You are so young and so helpless,” he said, speaking almost beneath his breath. “What will London do to you? Is it wise or right of me to permit you to go there?”
“Permit me?” Gretna questioned in surprise.
“Supposing I made another proposition to you?” the Marquis asked her. “Supposing I suggested that I should look after you?”
“But – I don’t – understand.”
“S
