away and becoming weaker and weaker, Keith Waring appeared.
He was indeed an exceedingly handsome young man and because of his looks he had been spoilt dreadfully by every woman who had ever met him.
And Mrs. Sherard was no exception.
He was so very different from her first husband that in a way she mothered him.
She could not resist him when he finally declared that he would die if she did not marry him.
Ivana realised that it was a sacrifice on his part because he could, if he had wished, marry someone far richer and more prestigious.
But he genuinely loved her mother.
That, however, did not prevent him from spending every penny she possessed without thinking at all what the consequences would be.
Ivana had never liked him. She knew that he thought of her as just an encumbrance and resented the affection that her mother very obviously had for her.
From one or two things he had said recently she knew that he was thinking that, if he could find her a rich husband, he would be able to get her off his hands.
He would also undoubtedly line his own pockets to gamble with at the same time.
She never in her wildest imagination, however, thought that he could stoop so low as to ‘sell her’ to someone as unpleasant and dislikeable as Lord Hanford.
Lord Hanford was immensely rich that was undeniable and he could easily buy whatever he desired just by lifting his little finger.
Equally she could imagine how completely horrified both her father and mother would be at such despicable behaviour.
How could she contemplate the idea of living with a man without being married to him?
‘How can I possibly – do anything so – humiliating?’ she thought bitterly to herself.
She heard a footstep outside the door and was apprehensive for a moment that it was her stepfather.
But it was Nanny who came bustling into the room.
Because Ivana had jumped instinctively to her feet and was looking terrified, Nanny said soothingly,
“It’s all right, dearie, he’s gone out with his Lordship. He left a message with Mrs. Bell that he will not be back for luncheon or dinner.”
Because they had been counting every farthing that was spent in the household lately, Ivana could not help thinking that this would save two meals.
Nanny closed the door behind her.
“I’ve found out what we wants to know,” she said. “The best Agency be Mrs. Hill’s on Mount Street.”
“That is some distance away,” Ivana remarked.
“I know,” Nanny said, “but if you’ve got to work for anyone, I’ll see to it as you works for the best!”
“Shall we go there at once?” Ivana asked.
“You’d better have your luncheon first,” Nanny said. “There be no hurry, the Master won’t be comin’ back till the early hours of the mornin’, if I knows anythin’ about him.”
“Oh, Nanny, I do hope he does not lose any more money,” Ivana remarked.
As she spoke, she thought that if she was going to run away, it would no longer matter to her what happened.
Because Nanny expected it, Ivana went downstairs to the small dining room.
She had once suggested that, as Nanny did the cooking, she could sit in the kitchen.
Nanny would not hear of it.
“So long as I’m here you’ll eat in the dinin’ room, like the lady you are and behave like a lady and no nonsense about it!” she had asserted tartly.
Ivana helped herself to the cold chicken salad that Nanny had prepared for her earlier in the day.
She could not help wondering, when she was no longer a ‘lady’, if she would eat in the servants’ hall.
She did not say so to Nanny, however, because she knew how much it would upset her.
She finished most of the salad even though she was far too agitated to be feeling in any way hungry.
Then she ran upstairs to put on the pretty bonnet she had worn when they went walking in the morning.
Nanny was a great believer in fresh air. She had always insisted on Ivana walking in the Park at some time during the day.
As Ivana came downstairs, she found that Nanny had also put on her bonnet and her grey shawl was draped over her shoulders.
“Now, put your best foot forward,” Nanny urged her. “The walk’ll do you no harm on such a nice day.”
“No, of course not,” Ivana agreed, “but I wish we could do it in the country.”
She paused before she added,
“I suppose, Nanny, we could not just – disappear into the country and find a tiny cottage ‒ where we could be on our own?”
“And how would we pay the rent?” Nanny enquired.
There was no answer to that and she went on,
“The only country we knows, you and me, is Huntingdonshire, where we were so happy when you were a child. And you may be quite sure if you’re missin’, that’ll be the first place your stepfather’ll look.”
“Yes, of course, I did not think of that,” Ivana admitted in a small voice.
They walked briskly because, although Nanny had turned fifty, she was still very fit.
It took them nearly three-quarters of an hour to reach Mount Street in Mayfair.
It was not difficult to find Mrs. Hill’s Domestic Agency, which was on the first floor of No. 19.
There was a shop window in the front and beside it there was a door, which was open, revealing a narrow stairway.
Nanny stopped and Ivana asked her a little nervously,
“Are you coming in with me, Nanny?”
Nanny shook her head.
“That’d be a mistake,” she replied. “Them as is lookin’ for employment don’t take their Nannies with them! Now you go up, dearie, and try not to be nervous. I’ll be in the street lookin’ in the shop windows.”
Feeling as though she were very small and unprotected, Ivana climbed up the staircase.
There was a small landing and on one door there was a sign, which read,
MRS. HILL’S
