She stopped a passing girl groom. ‘Where’s Jerry?’ she demanded, her voice more imperious than usual because of her tension. ‘I’ll fetch him, your ladyship,’ said the girl, walking away with a pronounced wriggle of her rounded hips. She returned a few minutes later with a man in his mid-thirties whose blue-black hair was far too long and whose dark blue eyes swept over Marina’s body in what she considered to be a highly insolent manner. ‘I believe my husband spoke to you about riding lessons for me,’ she said shortly. He smiled, showing very white but slightly uneven teeth. His skin was so dark Marina wondered if he had gypsy blood in him. ‘He did.’ ‘Well, I’d like a lesson now.’ ‘I’m busy now,’ he responded curtly. ‘Doing what?’ enquired Marina. He shrugged. ‘This and that.’ ‘Well, this and that can wait; I cannot.’ It looked as though he was about to argue, but then he seemed to change his mind and with a small sigh he nodded. ‘As you like.
