An Angel Runs Away Read Online Free PDF

that her face glowed with a beauty that was not lessened by the plain ugly bonnet that was tied under her chin with frayed satin ribbons.
    He liked the way, when he lifted her down from the phaeton, that she straightened her back and held her head high as she followed him into the house.
    The old butler with white hair beamed at the Marquis.
    “Good afternoon, my Lord! This is an unexpected pleasure! I know how delighted Her Grace’ll be when I tell her that your Lordship’s here.”
    “How is Her Grace?” the Marquis asked, handing his hat and driving gloves to one of the footmen.
    “Well, very well, but if your Lordship wants the truth, I thinks Her Grace is bored.”
    “That is something I have come to remedy,” the Marquis said. “Will you take Miss Forde upstairs, Burrows, and ask your wife to show her where she can tidy herself while I have a word with Her Grace?”
    “Of course, my Lord, of course.”
    Taking command of the situation, which was somewhat unusual, Burrows said to Ula,
    “Will you wait here, miss?”
    Then he walked across the hall to open the door into the drawing room.
    “The Marquis of Raventhorpe, Your Grace!” he announced.
    Ula heard somebody give an exclamation of delight before Burrows closed the door and returned to her.
    *
    The Marquis walked slowly across the exquisite Aubusson carpet to where his grandmother was sitting in an armchair beside the fireplace.
    The Duchess of Wrexham had been the greatest beauty of her day and her marriage to the Duke had been the most memorable social occasion of the year.
    She had then become a leading hostess and the parties and balls given by the Duke and Duchess at Wrexham House had often been attended by the King and Queen as well as other members of the Royal Family.
    Now, when she was over seventy, she found the quiet life she lived in the country very dull, after being feted, acclaimed and sought after not only by everyone of importance in England but also in Europe.
    She was still beautiful, although her hair was white. As the Marquis appreciated, despite the fact that she was not expecting visitors, she was very elegantly gowned and was wearing some of the fabulous jewels her adoring husband had showered on her year after year.
    “Drogo!” she exclaimed. “What a delightful surprise! Why did you not let me know you were coming? The least I could have done was to ‘kill the fatted calf’.”
    The Marquis laughed as he bent down to kiss his grandmother’s cheek.
    Then, pulling up a chair beside her, he said,
    “I have come to ask for your help, Grandmama.”
    “My help?” the Duchess enquired. “I thought you had come to tell me that you were going to marry that girl who has been so much talked about, Sarah Chessington.”
    “No, I have not come to tell you that, but actually to enquire if you remember somebody of the same name who was Sarah’s aunt and who I believe caused a great scandal nineteen or twenty years ago.
    The Duchess looked at her grandson in surprise.
    “Are you referring to Lady Louise Chessington, who ran away the night before her marriage to the Duke of Avon?”
    “You remember it?”
    “Of course I remember it,” the Duchess said. “You never heard such a commotion as there was at the time!”
    She chuckled as she said,
    “It certainly took Avon down a peg or two. He was very puffed up with his own consequence and assumed that any woman would die with joy at the idea of being his wife!”
    “Did you ever meet Lady Louise?”
    “Of course I met her! Her father was the fourth Earl. He was an intelligent man and, actually, if you want the truth, he fell in love with me and my poor adoring husband was very jealous! But then he always was if any man so much as looked at me!”
    “Who could help doing so when you are so beautiful?” the Marquis asked.
    “Thank you, Drogo. But I am too old for compliments now, although I am still delighted to talk of those I received when I was young.”
    There was a wistful