As the train drew into Victoria Station in London, Darcia already knew that this was the beginning of a new life.
It had already started when she was in Paris, but with the Marquise she did not have to pretend that she was not her father’s daughter or that they were not both of them embarking on a strange adventure which could only have been conceived in his facile mind.
The Marquise was everything that Darcia expected.
She had been very beautiful in her youth and was still lovely despite her first grey hairs and a few inescapable wrinkles around her expressive dark eyes.
As soon as they talked together, Darcia realised that the Marquise had not only a quick intelligence but also a good sense of humour.
On her way to Paris from the Convent she had been just a little apprehensive in c
