Sedela raised her head from his shoulder.
They had now reached the house.
The Marquis carried her in, along the corridor to his study and then opened the door.
Still carrying her he took her to the sofa and set her down gently.
Then he went back into the corridor to fetch one of the candles and from it he lit the candelabrum that stood on his desk.
Going to the grog tray in the far corner of the room he poured out a drink for Sedela and a stronger one for himself.
“I think we both need this,” he said. “If you were frightened, my darling, I knew as I ran back to the house to fetch my pistol that I have never, even during the Battle of Waterloo, been so terrified that I would not be in time!”
“Oh, Ivan – that is a very – flattering thing to say!”
The wine brought a little colour back
