The Blue Eyed Witch by Barbara Cartland

Author:Barbara Cartland
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781782132011
Publisher: Barbara Cartland EBooks ltd
Published: 2012-12-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

Idylla was sitting on the balcony and the canopy over the wicker chair shaded her so that her face was in shadow.

She was wearing one of the new gowns that the Marquis had ordered for her from London. It was a soft pink, which made her eyes seem bluer than ever and brought out strange and unusual lights in her long hair.

It hung over her shoulders to below her small waist. Nanny had refused to allow her to pin it up on top of her head, because the wound had not yet healed.

As the Marquis walked onto the balcony, he thought that the huge pots of flame-and-white azaleas and the stone balustrade were a perfect setting for her.

It was almost as if she toned in with the house and became a part of it, even though he still thought of her as a nymph rising from deep water.

She smiled at him spontaneously and it illuminated her face and seemed to echo in her eyes.

“How are you today?” he asked.

“So much better that I would like to go out into the garden,” Idylla replied, “but Nanny will not let me.”

“It’s no use arguing with Nanny, as I have found all my life,” the Marquis replied. “She always gets her own way!”

“But I want to see your garden,” Idylla protested. “The flowers look so lovely from here, but they are so far away.”

“Tomorrow, the next day or the day after you will be able to touch them and pick them if you wish to do so,” the Marquis promised, “but there is no hurry.”

“N-no – I suppose not,” Idylla said hesitatingly, “but I – might not – be here.”

“Why should you say that?” the Marquis enquired. She looked back through the open window into the bedroom and saw that when the Marquis had appeared, Nanny had left the room.

The Marquis was aware that her expression was troubled and after a moment he asked gently, “What is worrying you?”

He pulled up a chair to sit facing her as he spoke, his back to the garden.

She looked down at her hands and twisted her long fingers together as if she was agitated.

“Try to tell me what is troubling you,” the Marquis insisted.

The scratch marks had almost completely gone from her face, but there was still some visible on her arms.

Her gown was short-sleeved, but she wore a long floating scarf that covered her shoulders and hid some of the marks.

“You will – think I am very – foolish,” she said in a low voice.

“I cannot promise you I will not think so, until you tell me what this is all about,” the Marquis said. “But I think it unlikely that anything you say would seem foolish to me at any rate.”

There was a note of sincerity in his voice which seemed to reassure Idylla and after a moment she said, “I-I want you to give me – something.” “What is it?” the Marquis enquired.

“A cross.”

He looked at her in astonishment.

Women had asked him

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