“It seems a strange life for anyone as lovely as you are.”
He had spoken without thinking and now he realised that he had startled her. Her eyelashes were dark against her cheeks as she replied rapidly,
“I think I will hand this money over to Hannah. She will be glad – so very glad that I have sold a painting – so that we can buy the things Papa needs.”
As she spoke, Cyrilla moved towards the door, but the Marquis deliberately walked to the big window of the studio to look out
Outside were the back yards of Islington but he looked at them with unseeing eyes.
There were quite a number of things he wanted to say, but he had no idea how to put them into words.
He knew Cyrilla expected him to go, but he wanted to stay.
He felt strangely that if he left her he might never find her again
