The Marquis Is Trapped by Barbara Cartland Page B

feet.
    “I am going out into the garden, Papa,” she said and turned towards the door.
    Her father did not answer.
    The Marquis was once again aware that there was an expression of fear in Celina’s eyes and he had not been mistaken in thinking her hand was trembling.
    ‘ What is upsetting her?  What is wrong?’ he asked himself.
    Then his thoughts were back with his own problem as to what he should say to the Countess.
    When tea was over, they moved back into the room where the Marquis had first met the Earl.
    “There is an excellent view from here of our guest’s yacht,” the Earl was saying.  “And I am hoping we shall be able to inspect it tomorrow.”
    “Of course you must and I expect that you will be interested in some of the improvements I have made that as far as I know are not being installed into any other yacht afloat at the moment.”
    The Earl laughed.
    “You are just like your father, Oliver.  I remember he always wanted to be a pioneer and eventually the first man on the moon!”
    The Marquis laughed at the Earl’s comment, but it was rather a forced sound and he was aware the Countess was gazing at him.
    He had by now regained his composure and had, he reckoned, recovered from the shock of seeing her again.
    “I have always heard from my father how beautiful your Castle is,” he said to the Countess, “and it was so very kind of you to have invited me to Scotland.”
    “I thought that you would be surprised to see me,” she replied.  “I expect you remember that cricket match in which you were undoubtedly the hero of the day.”
    “Of course, I remember it, but Oxford is such a big place that later I did not see much of Peter.”
    The Countess gave him a somewhat sarcastic smile, as if she understood the true reason.
    Looking at her quizzically, the Marquis realised she had certainly grown older with the passing years.  Now she undoubtedly looked nearly forty, which he was certain was about her real age.
    However, she was fashionably dressed with pearls around her neck and in her ears and her face was skilfully made up.
    It was quite obvious that her husband, the Earl, was very pleased with her.
    He was regarding her admiringly.
    “I suppose, dearest,” he said, “that you have asked some guests here to amuse our friend Oliver.  From what the newspapers tell me he is of great standing in what in my day was called the ‘ Beau Monde ’.”
    “I would expect it still is,” the Marquis answered.  “I was asked for luncheon with His Royal Highness the day before I left and I can assure you that he keeps the Social ball rolling so fast that one is constantly running from one party to another!”
    “I am sure he does!  So who is he is love with at the moment?”
    “I think his affair with the Countess of Warwick is still happening, but one can never be sure with His Royal Highness.  His heart is a very large one!”
    The Earl laughed and then the Countess enquired of the Marquis in a slightly affected voice,
    “And what about your heart?”
    The Marquis knew it was a pointed question and he replied,
    “It’s intact, thank you and that is the way I wish to keep it.”
    The Countess raised her eyebrows.
    “Can that really be true?  Surely there is one beauty more alluring than any of the others you find irresistible.”
    The Marquis wondered what gossip she had heard about him.
    Of course, so many people would tittle-tattle about Isobel and him just as they would have talked if they could about every other beauty he had had an affair with.
    “You must not listen to the gossip,” he said firmly.  “I assure you that there is no one of any great importance in my life and I intend to ‘play the field’ for a great number of years yet.”
    The Countess sniggered and it was an unpleasant sound.
    “Do you really expect me to believe that?”
    “Whether you believe it or not, it’s the truth.”
    “But I am sure that your family,” she persisted, “are really longing for