Robert laughed. ‘She always had balls. She’s independent, and very self-confident. And the charity is a good cause.’

‘What’s the charity she’s dreamed up?’

‘Teaching underprivileged women how to learn a craft, especially battered women. Those who have come out of care homes. I’m going to give her five hundred pounds to help get her started. You should do the same.’

‘Bloody hell! And aren’t you being generous with my money!’

‘Come on, old chap, you can afford it. You’re the most successful banker in London. No, in England, I’d venture to say. You’re rolling in dosh.’

Adrian nodded. ‘Of course I’ll give the same as you, and it is a good cause. I was shocked the other day when my sister told me how many women go to the safe home she supports with donations. Clarissa also goes there once a week to talk to them, tries to guide them into a new direction, gives them clothes. Battering defenceless women seems to be a growing hobby for some men. Bastards they are.’

‘I know,’ Robert replied, letting out a long sigh. ‘I’ve heard the same stories. I told Caroline I would give her money for her charity on a continuing basis, but you don’t have to, Adrian.’

‘Of course I will, you know I’m always guided by you. What’s that saying of yours? Anything you can do, I can do better.’

‘Caroline will be pleased,’ Robert murmured.

There were a few moments of silence. Adrian sat staring at his best friend, the closest person to him since their days at prep school.

Robert Marmaduke Allenwood Lassiter, Fifth Earl of Harding. Thirty-nine years old now. Handsome with a natural charm and an easy-going, almost casual demeanour. Yet these traits hid a brilliant mind and a fierce intellect. Adrian knew how trustworthy he was, that he had genuine ethics, honour and great integrity.

A busy man, something of a workaholic, Robert divided his time between his family mansion in Ireland, Bolton Manor in Yorkshire, his favourite estate, which he loved to use for shooting parties, plus his London house. He kept socializing in town to a minimum. And although women tended to chase him, he was not a womanizer or a philanderer. In fact, he was rather aloof in certain ways, and somewhat traditional.

But Adrian knew Robert was vulnerable, although he never allowed this to surface. He had once told Adrian his motto: Never display weakness, never show face.

‘You’re awfully quiet, Adrian,’ Robert said, looking at his friend curiously, aware of his eyes on him. ‘What’s rolling around in that busy mind of yours?’

Adrian sat up straighter in his chair, and answered, ‘Are you sure you really want to go to the Strattons’ “do” tonight? It’s not like you.’

‘Yes, I promised.’ Robert’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why are you asking that?’

‘It’s that sister of Caroline’s …’ His voice trailed off.