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"How did you deceive people into thinking it was your father s work?" he asked.
'When anyone brought Papa a commission," Vanessa replied, "I told them that as he
was ill I would make the preliminary sketches for them."
She hesitated and then she added, the colour rising in her cheeks:
"I am ... afraid I signed his ... initials on the .. . back."
The Marquis smiled.
"I can understand why it was necessary, Vanessa," he said, "but now this cannot go
on. You yourself must realise that."
"You mean Sir Julius might come . . . back?" she asked in a sudden terror.
"I do not think he would risk the beating he would get from me if he did so," the
Marquis answered. "At the same time, there will be other men, Vanessa. You are too
beautiful to live alone. Besides, what sort of life is it shut up here alone with only your
old maid-servant?"
"We have been quite happy," Vanessa answered. "The only worry has been whether I
could make enough money, and Dorcas is too old to go without food."
She smiled a little whimsically as she spoke.
"And you are too young to be without it!" the Marquis finished.
He put out his hand and drew Vanessa towards the sofa.
"Come and sit down. I told you that we had to talk today. This is the moment for us
to do so."
Vanessa gave him a worried look and then she undid the blue smock she wore over
her dress and, taking it off, laid it on a chair.
She knew that the Marquis was waiting and she sat down on the sofa. He seated
himself beside her.
Again he took her hand in his, looking down into it, seeing the sensitiveness and
delicacy of her long thin fingers and noting there was a tiny smudge of Antwerp blue on
one of them.
She seemed to him to be very childlike, and for some unknown reason, or perhaps
because in that moment she seemed so young, he changed what he was about to say.
Instead he rose to his feet.
"I will tell you what we will do, Vanessa," he said. "Hurry and pack what things you
need for the next few days. Tell Dorcas to do the same. I am going to drive back to
Berkeley Square and order a travelling carriage to come here immediately."
"A travelling carriage!" Vanessa exclaimed.
"We are all of us going to Ruckford Park," he said. "You will not wish to stay here,
afraid of who will knock on the door, fearing that your third unwelcome visitor might be
worse than the first two."
Vanessa thought of Mr. Barcellos and Sir Julius and exclaimed:
"Can we really go away? It would be wonderful to see your house in the country! Do
you really want Dorcas and me?"
"I want you more than I have time to explain," the Marquis said. "Just do as I say,
Vanessa and pack quickly. When I return I do not want you to keep my horses waiting."
"I will not do that," Vanessa said, her eyes shining, "but you are sure . . . sure we will
not be a . . . nuisance?"
"I am quite sure of that," the Marquis said, his eyes on her face.
The pallor had gone from her cheeks and the fear from her eyes.
There was an excitement about her now and she looked so happy it was as if she felt
she could fly.
"Hurry!" the Marquis commanded imperiously. "We will have luncheon on the way.
There is an Inn about five miles outside of London where the food is quite palatable."
"I am too excited to want to eat," Vanessa cried.
As she spoke she ran ahead of the Marquis down the stairs, calling for Dorcas as she
went.
"Dorcas! Dorcas! What do you think? His Lordship has asked us to go and stay with
him in the country. We shall have to pack very quickly."
The Marquis did not wait to hear what Dorcas's answer might be. He let himself out
the front door and drove back to Berkeley Square at the same speed he had achieved on
his way to Islington.
Once he arrived, he sent for Mr. Gratton and gave him a whole list of instructions.
The first was to send a groom immediately to Ruckford Park to make preparations
for his arrival, the second was for a carriage for Dorcas to be despatched to Islington, and
a third to have fresh horses ready to draw his own phaeton.
There was a vast number of other orders for Mr. Gratton: invitations to be refused;
engagements to be cancelled. But because the Marquis was precise and efficient, it was in
under an hour that he arrived back in Islington.
He found Vanessa waiting for him, wearing a pretty flowered muslin gown she had
made herself, and the same bonnet she had worn on previous occasions. She carried a
shawl to put over her shoulders in case she should feel chilly while they were driving.
Dorcas was also ready, garbed in plain, conventional black and looking, the Marquis
thought, a very respectable lady's-maid who would evoke approval from the members
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