Free 65 A Heart Is Stolen by Barbara Cartland Page B

abuse upon her head, which had left her in tears and made her determined that she would never mention Heathcliffe again.
    Of course tales of the Marquis had percolated into Flagstaff Manor and anyway they talked of nothing else in the village.
    When he was at Brighton with the Prince Regent, the local people who saw him reported his extravagance, the lovely ladies he squired and the way his horses romped home first at Lewes Races.
    Now Ivana thought, she had not only seen him but was to dine with him.
    She looked at herself in the mirror, anxiously wondering if because she had nothing smart or fashionable to wear, she would be wise to listen to Nanny and stay at home.
    ‘Perhaps he will despise me for being so countrified,’ she told herself, ‘and that will be good, for then he will leave me alone.’
    She had the feeling that even if the Marquis decided to do that his friend, Sir Anthony, would be more concerned with her face than what she was wearing.
    Anyway, when the carriage arrived, there was nothing she could do but pick up the scarf that matched her gown and let Nanny put a plain woollen shawl over her shoulders to keep her warm during the short drive to Heathcliffe.
    “Now be careful what you says, dearie,” Nanny admonished, “and come home as soon as you can. I’ll be prayin’ everythin’ will be all right and there’s no nasty pitfalls when you least expects them.”
    “Yes, do that, Nanny.”
    Ivana kissed her old nurse’s cheek and stepped into the carriage that was more comfortable and luxurious than any carriage she had ever travelled in before.
    When she reached Heathcliffe to find four footmen on duty in the hall and Travers greeting her politely, she had a sudden impulse to run away and return to the quiet security of Flagstaff Manor.
    Then pride made her lift her chin and she followed Travers towards the drawing room asking herself why should she be afraid of the Marquis or any other man.
    “Mrs. Wadebridge, my Lord!” Travers announced.
    The Marquis walked towards her and Ivana thought that it would be impossible for a man to look more magnificent and it was difficult not to be aware how drab and insignificant she must look beside him.
    As it happened, the blue gown that Nanny had made for her the previous year gave her a picture-like appearance so that she might have stepped down from one of the portraits on the walls of Heathcliffe.
    ‘She should be painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds,’ the Marquis thought to himself.
    He was aware that, while he bowed in response to her curtsey, Anthony, taking advantage of the fact that she was a married woman, kissed her hand.
    “Come and sit down,” he was saying. “I feel sure you would enjoy a glass of champagne.”
    “It would certainly be a treat,” Ivana replied.
    “I suppose, as your house is a sort of Naval establishment, your guests are provided only with rum!” Anthony suggested, his eyes twinkling.
    “In case you are suspecting we have not paid excise duty,” Ivana flashed, “let me inform you, Sir Anthony, sailors are just as civilised in their tastes as soldiers!”
    “That is right, Mrs. Wadebridge,” the Marquis agreed. “Don’t let him tease you. And to prove that soldiers can still appreciate the sea, I hope you will enjoy after dinner looking at the ship pictures that this house contains.”
    “They are superb – ” Ivana said and added quickly, “so I have always – been told.”
    There was just a faint pause before the last words and the Marquis looked at her enquiringly.
    He thought the colour rose in her face, but she turned her head to speak to Anthony and he was not certain.
    He, however, watched her every move and he was sure that she knew the way to the dining room. He also thought, although he could not be certain that once during the evening a look passed between her and Travers that made him sure that they had met before.
    “I believe my agent, Markham, Mrs. Wadebridge,” he said apropos of nothing, “was