Lovers in London by Barbara Cartland Page B

him.
    Strangely enough there was not the expression in her eyes that he was accustomed to, nor did she move instinctively nearer to him.
    â€œWhat time will you be collecting me tomorrow?” she asked.
    â€œAt half-past twelve. Are you quite certain you can explain what is happening to your chaperone?”
    â€œI will manage it somehow!”
    Then as the Marquis reached the door she gave out a little cry.
    â€œWait!” she called.
    â€œWhat is it, Lanthia?”
    â€œI think it would be wise if I looked up the corridor just to see if that horrible man is waiting for you. He might take the opportunity of injuring you if he thought you were here. I am sure he carries a stiletto!”
    The Marquis laughed.
    â€œI think it a bit unlikely. At the same time it would be wise and sensible of you to see if the coast is clear for me.”
    Lanthia walked to the door and opened it.
    She moved a few steps to the corner of the corridor.
    The gas lamps were still alight and there was no one to be seen. So she turned back.
    â€œI think you are quite safe,” she whispered, “but do hurry!”
    â€œI will certainly do so and goodnight, Lanthia. As you must be aware you have been really wonderful.”
    He set off down the corridor walking swiftly.
    Lanthia watched him for a moment and then turned back into her sitting room.
    She was thinking how extraordinary it was that the Marquis was an explorer. Because he was so smart and handsome, she thought he was what her father would have called ‘a man about town’ and was seldom seen outside London.
    But he had actually journeyed to Tibet.
    She could hardly believe it. Tibet was where her father had always wanted to go, but had reached no further than Nepal and on another trip he had spent some time in the Ural Mountains.
    â€˜I must tell Papa about the Marquis,’ she decided as she undressed.
    But then she wondered what her father and mother would say when they learnt that she had pretended to be engaged to him.
    And that she had attended a dinner party with him tonight and would be accompanying him to a luncheon at Marlborough House tomorrow.
    It all seemed just like one of her dreams and she could not believe that her involvement was wrong in any way.
    Yet she was involved, because the Marquis had told an outright lie and she had accepted her part in maintaining his deception.
    She realised that poor Mrs. Blossom had no idea what she was doing and therefore could never to tell anyone that she had ever dined with the Duke of Sutherland at The Langham .
    Nor that she had been taken to a dinner party by a man whom she had never met until he burst suddenly into her sitting room!
    But now that the Spaniard had told the Prince of Wales they were engaged, things were very different.
    She had even been asked to Marlborough House for luncheon and she could hardly pretend that it had happened quite casually.
    How could she keep it all a secret from her parents, if the Prince of Wales was present at the Lord Lieutenant’s ball?
    He would undoubtedly speak to her and before he did so she would have to explain to her parents how she had met him.
    â€˜It is all becoming too complicated,’ she thought, ‘and I wish Mama was here to sort out the whole puzzle for me.’
    When she finally climbed into her bed, she was still thinking of what she should say to Mrs. Blossom and more importantly, what she should say when she returned home.
    There was no doubt that the Marquis was extremely popular.
    As they had walked around the dining room when dinner was over, everyone present had seemed pleased to see him.
    â€œHello, Rake,” most of the gentlemen had called to him, followed by, “I thought I should see you here. What are you up to? Or is that an indiscreet question?”
    They laughed as if they had made a good joke and the Marquis had made some light reply.
    It all seemed in Lanthia’s recollection so very much more vivid than