Lighting a cigarette, Robert said quietly, “I hope the firm you use to do the investigating will be discreet.”

“Oh, of course they will!” Adrian exclaimed. “The one I’ve used at times, for bank matters, is exceptional. No one will know they’re investigating Lucinda, not even she herself. They’re experts at that sort of cloak-and-dagger stuff.”

Robert couldn’t help himself; he burst out laughing. “You have a clever turn of phrase, old chap, as you say I do. And I hope there are no daggers around.… As you said, no woman is worth swinging for. Certainly not Lucinda.”

“Funny how she changed, and so radically. And you’re right, you know; she has grown … dowdy. I think that’s the correct word. She was quite glamorous when you got married, and for a few years after that,” Adrian said. “Then she faded.”

“The only time she sort of bucks up is in Ireland. She enjoys Lassiter Hall, and the villagers used to adore her. Still do, most likely, although she doesn’t go out among them so often these days. Keeps herself to herself. Actually, I am going to make a trip back there in the not-too-distant future. I’ll take Colin Wilson with me, and I’m pondering the idea of taking Blackie O’Neill along, that Irish lad—you remember. Or sending him ahead perhaps, with Wilson. I like the lad, think he’s got something special about him. He could work wonders in the gardens there. I think they’ve been neglected lately.”

“From what you say, he’s turned into a strapping lad, no doubt about that. Funny that you ran into him again in Yorkshire, when he turned up at Bolton Manor with Lucinda’s maid. Forgotten her name. Irish like Blackie.”

“Her name is O’Brien, Siobhan O’Brien, and she’s his cousin. A nice young woman, calm, hardworking, but I think she misses her brother, who still works at the house in Ireland. I think really she’d prefer to be back there.” Robert stubbed out his cigarette, and smiled at Adrian. “Our wine is about to arrive.”

Once their glasses had been filled, Adrian said, “Here’s to you, my dear old friend, and a new future, all shiny and bright and full of happiness with a stunning lady love called Vanessa Stratton.”

“Let’s hope so,” Robert replied, a smile flickering slightly, his face suddenly changing, growing serious. “If you can make it happen.”

“Don’t you fret, Robert. It’s about time you started to live a better life. No one deserves it more than you. Now, about Vanessa, you said she was willing.”

“Willing? What exactly do you mean?”

“To have an affair with you.”

“I don’t want that, Addy. I really don’t,” Robert answered swiftly, using his friend’s childhood nickname. “I want marriage.”