The two men stepped away from each other, and Robert said, “You made it back very quickly, Addy.”

“I did. I wanted to give you this.” He handed Robert the envelope. “It was awaiting me when I got home.”

Glancing at it, Robert asked, “Who is it from? Do you want me to read it now?”

“You can read it later. It’s a letter from my agent in Switzerland.”

“Oh! Is it about your villa? The one you want to rent?”

“It is. But it’s not for rent anymore. The owner needs to sell it. I shall buy it, because the other person, who also wanted to rent it, can’t afford to do that. You could say it’s already mine,” Adrian explained in a slightly gloating voice, still smiling broadly.

“I understand what you’re saying. You will buy it immediately I assume.”

“I will. What’s that old saying? ‘Make haste while the sun shines.’”

Robert put the letter in his jacket pocket and went to pour the champagne, saying as he did, “How about a drink to toast your new acquisition, Addy?”

“Thanks. I’d like that.”

“I’m sure you would like a glass too, wouldn’t you, Vanessa darling?” Robert said.

“Of course, Robert,” she answered, having found her voice again, and was filled with curiosity about the villa the men had just discussed.

A few seconds later, Robert carried the champagne over to Vanessa and Adrian and they all sat down around the fire. After they had clinked glasses and taken a first sip, Robert said, “I’ve decided to inform Lucinda she can no longer live at my house in Yorkshire. She must stay in Ireland or with her brother in town. I have put it off, but I don’t want to stay away from my own estate. I need to be there; I have plans and responsibilities. And I hope I can go up there soon. I want you to come, Vanessa, along with Caroline as your chaperone, and you too, Adrian. Do you both accept my invitation?”

“Of course,” Adrian said, grinning at this suggestion and loving the idea of Lucinda being barred.

“I’d like to come,” Vanessa murmured, obviously flattered to be asked, a beatific smile on her face. “And I know Caroline will enjoy it too.”

Much later that evening, after supper and Vanessa’s departure in Robert’s carriage, the two men sat in the library, each holding a balloon of Napoleon brandy.

“How come Lucinda can’t buy the villa?” Robert asked, his eyes searching his best friend’s face, his interest apparent.

“She’s been paying off her brother’s gambling debts for years. He owes every gambling club in London. He’s a drunk, a reprobate, actually, and he’s bled her dry. Valentine is bad news.”

“How foolish of her. Is she broke?”