“Suppose we are frank with each other,” the Marquis said slowly, “and you start by telling me how you intend to live.”
He saw by the expression on her face that this was a question she had been dreading and that she must have asked herself what she should do almost every moment since the day her father had died.
There was silence and, as he waited for her answer, the Marquis thought that the light coming through the North window made her hair, which was that strange mixture of gold and silver, appear as if it was haloed.
“You are so beautiful!” he said in a low voice. “You must realise it will not be safe for you to live alone without a man to protect you.”
“I have – Hannah.”
“You cannot spend the rest of your life alone with a maid,” the Marquis said, “and, sensible though she is, I
