CHAPTER TEN“You cannot sit here all day brooding,” Ethel said, flinging open the glass doors that led out onto the balcony of the Marquis’s hotel bedroom. “It’s springtime in Paris!”
The Marquis gazed out at the blue sky, where white fluffy clouds were flying past, urged on by a warm breeze.
Ethel was frowning impatiently and he noticed how the powder she had dusted her face with was settling in the little creases around her eyes.
He could not help but think of Lucilla, of her lovely face with its fresh smooth complexion that never needed paint or powder to give it colour and life.
Then he pushed her out of his mind. Wherever she was, she was certainly not thinking about him and he must forget her.
“I don’t like to leave Nanny Groves,” he said. “She is still so frail.”
Ethel clicked
