CHAPTER SEVENCarrying the letter from Terence, the Marquis ran upstairs.
He went into the boudoir that adjoined Miss Dickson’s bedroom and found her there as he had expected.
Nanny was with her, still wiping the tears from her eyes.
“Don’t get up,” the Marquis said as he entered, knowing that they were both about to rise. “I want to ask you, Dickie, what you know about St. Christopher.”
She smiled at him.
“I taught you all about him a long time ago,” she answered. “He is the Patron Saint of travellers and was martyred for being a Christian.”
She looked at the Marquis to see what more information he required and after a moment she went on,
“The legends, which I am sure I told you, represented him as a giant who devoted his life to carrying travellers across a river.”
“A river!” the
