moved away from the Marquis and, as she crossed the floor of the Library, he thought he had never seen a woman move with such grace—she seemed to float rather than walk.
As she reached the door she looked back at him.
“You will come tomorrow?” the Marquis insisted.
“If it is possible,” she replied.
Then she was gone.
The Marquis stood quite still for a moment staring at the closed door.
“A witch!” he said aloud. “That is certainly a being I never expected to encounter!”
CHAPTER THREE
The Marquis rose early the following morning, as he realised he must go over to Eurydice’s house and arrange about taking over the management of her Estate.
As Hobley helped him put on riding-clothes, he said:
“You did a good job on our Gypsy, Hobley.”
“The wound healed quickly because she was so healthy,” Hobley replied, “and it was in fact, M’Lord, a pleasure.”
The Marquis raised his eyebrows and asked:
“Did the rest of the household get over their fears of what she might do to them?”
“Yes indeed, M’Lord,” Hobley answered. “She captivated all of them before she finished. Even Mrs. Meedham spoke well of the young lady!”
The Marquis was amused to notice that Saviya had changed from being “one of them Gypsies” to a “young lady,” and he realised it was indeed a compliment.
There was no-one more snobbish or more rigid in their sense of propriety than the servants in a Nobleman’s house.
The slightest infringement of their privileges or of their recognised order of precedence would cause almost a revolution in their ranks.
That they were no longer frightened of Saviya but had accepted her was, the Marquis thought, a very unusual and unpredictable change in their attitude.
He did not, however, express his thoughts to Hobley but merely remarked:
“The Reverend seems to think very highly of her intelligence.”
“The Reverend is a good judge of character, M’Lord,” Hobley said stoutly.
The Marquis found himself thinking of Saviya as he rode across the Park and then through the woods towards Eurydice’s house.
Trees covered many acres of land in that part of Hertfordshire, and as the Marquis moved through them he realised that it would be easy for not one band of Gypsies but dozens to hide themselves away so that it would be difficult for anyone to find them.
He, however, had a vague idea as to where they would be camping, and he thought that when he had the time he would perhaps visit them unexpectedly and see what they were like.
At the same time, if Saviya was to be believed, that would mean her visits to the House would be stopped. At the moment that was something which he had no wish to happen.
He wondered if she was speaking the truth.
He had always believed Gypsies were free and easy, and the women dispensed their favours to whomever they fancied.
If they did, the Marquis thought with a faint smile, they would be behaving just like the more aristocratic members of their sex in the Beau Monde.
There was no doubt that sexual morality in the Social World was very lax.
The raffish Society which was centred round Carlton House had since the very beginning of the century, set an example that was, to say the least, regrettable, while London itself was, as the Marquis well knew, a hot-bed of vice.
A man would have had to be blind not to notice the ever-increasing numbers of painted wantons who haunted the streets at night.
Some of them were but children, and the Flash Houses, where boys were taught to steal, pick pockets and commit every other minor crime in the calendar, grew more uncontrollable every year.
There were so many evils that should be denounced and reformed, the Marquis thought, and wondered if he himself should speak on the subject when the opportunity arose in the House of Lords.
Then, he thought with a wry smile, he was hardly the person to take a stand against immorality or to constitute himself a champion of good morals.
He could see the
As she reached the door she looked back at him.
“You will come tomorrow?” the Marquis insisted.
“If it is possible,” she replied.
Then she was gone.
The Marquis stood quite still for a moment staring at the closed door.
“A witch!” he said aloud. “That is certainly a being I never expected to encounter!”
CHAPTER THREE
The Marquis rose early the following morning, as he realised he must go over to Eurydice’s house and arrange about taking over the management of her Estate.
As Hobley helped him put on riding-clothes, he said:
“You did a good job on our Gypsy, Hobley.”
“The wound healed quickly because she was so healthy,” Hobley replied, “and it was in fact, M’Lord, a pleasure.”
The Marquis raised his eyebrows and asked:
“Did the rest of the household get over their fears of what she might do to them?”
“Yes indeed, M’Lord,” Hobley answered. “She captivated all of them before she finished. Even Mrs. Meedham spoke well of the young lady!”
The Marquis was amused to notice that Saviya had changed from being “one of them Gypsies” to a “young lady,” and he realised it was indeed a compliment.
There was no-one more snobbish or more rigid in their sense of propriety than the servants in a Nobleman’s house.
The slightest infringement of their privileges or of their recognised order of precedence would cause almost a revolution in their ranks.
That they were no longer frightened of Saviya but had accepted her was, the Marquis thought, a very unusual and unpredictable change in their attitude.
He did not, however, express his thoughts to Hobley but merely remarked:
“The Reverend seems to think very highly of her intelligence.”
“The Reverend is a good judge of character, M’Lord,” Hobley said stoutly.
The Marquis found himself thinking of Saviya as he rode across the Park and then through the woods towards Eurydice’s house.
Trees covered many acres of land in that part of Hertfordshire, and as the Marquis moved through them he realised that it would be easy for not one band of Gypsies but dozens to hide themselves away so that it would be difficult for anyone to find them.
He, however, had a vague idea as to where they would be camping, and he thought that when he had the time he would perhaps visit them unexpectedly and see what they were like.
At the same time, if Saviya was to be believed, that would mean her visits to the House would be stopped. At the moment that was something which he had no wish to happen.
He wondered if she was speaking the truth.
He had always believed Gypsies were free and easy, and the women dispensed their favours to whomever they fancied.
If they did, the Marquis thought with a faint smile, they would be behaving just like the more aristocratic members of their sex in the Beau Monde.
There was no doubt that sexual morality in the Social World was very lax.
The raffish Society which was centred round Carlton House had since the very beginning of the century, set an example that was, to say the least, regrettable, while London itself was, as the Marquis well knew, a hot-bed of vice.
A man would have had to be blind not to notice the ever-increasing numbers of painted wantons who haunted the streets at night.
Some of them were but children, and the Flash Houses, where boys were taught to steal, pick pockets and commit every other minor crime in the calendar, grew more uncontrollable every year.
There were so many evils that should be denounced and reformed, the Marquis thought, and wondered if he himself should speak on the subject when the opportunity arose in the House of Lords.
Then, he thought with a wry smile, he was hardly the person to take a stand against immorality or to constitute himself a champion of good morals.
He could see the
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