“I don’t believe it!” the Duke said angrily. “Miss Szeleti was aware that the carriage was calling for her at seven o’clock.”
“Johnson waited until seven-thirty, Your Grace, but since the landlady was quite certain that Miss Szeleti would not be returning as she had taken her luggage with her, he had come back now to report.”
The Duke was silent.
Then he knew, almost as if he was hearing a voice telling him so, that he had lost Vanola and this time forever!
*
Vanola was at that moment arriving in a post chaise at a large Georgian mansion on the outskirts of St. Albans in Hertfordshire.
It had taken her a little over two hours to travel there from London and every inch of the way had made her more afraid of what awaited her and more and more miserable with an utter despair at leaving
