CHAPTER FOURLucia’s evening had been utterly ruined.
When the Rolls Royce arrived back at Bingham Hall, she ran straight inside without waiting for Sir Arthur and rushed at once to her bedroom.
She threw off her ruined slippers and pulled ferociously at her hairpins.
“Miss,” cried Mary-Anne as she entered. She had not expected her back so soon. “Whatever is the matter?”
Lucia could not speak. She was so angry that she feared she might say something indiscreet and no matter how much she loathed her stepfather at that moment, it would not do to let the servants know.
“Help me get my dress off,” was all she said looking forward to the moment when Mary-Anne would leave her on her own.
As soon as she had shut the bedroom door, Lucia threw herself onto the bed in a fit of rage.
‘I cannot
