As she thought about it, she told herself that she was frightening herself unnecessarily.
The Marchioness was not likely to say anything so derogatory about Mr. Farquahar, although she might be spiteful enough to mention it to the Marquis.
What would he think?
Nolita remembered how he had saved her in the library from the odious advances of Esmond Farquahar.
Now his mother would twist the circumstances around until it seemed that somehow in some way it was she who had enticed the horrible man into visiting her.
It seemed, as the afternoon wore on, impossible not to feel herself confronted with a hundred possibilities of which she would never learn the truth.
‘I must find something to do,’ she decided.
She rode for a short while on Eros not bothering to change into a riding habit, bu
