CHAPTER 9There was a tap at the door and Camilla raised her head from the pillow.
She realised that by now it must be one o’clock in the morning and she wondered who could possibly be calling on her at such an hour.
The knock came again, not loud and almost as though the caller did not wish to be heard.
She slipped out of bed and went to the door.
“Who is it?” she asked in a whisper.
“It is me, Hugo Cheverly,” was the reply.
She opened the door a crack.
“I have retired,” she murmured.
“I must speak with you,” he said urgently. “Dress as quickly as you can.”
She did not argue with him.
Instead she closed the door and by the light of the candle which, left burning by Rose, was now guttering low, she hurriedly put on the gown that she had worn for dinner that evening.
It was lying
