He remained standing, leaning nonchalantly against the old oak tree, the flute of champagne in one hand, his cigarette in the other. Regarding her for a few moments, an unreadable look on his face, he finally said, ‘I think you wanted to meet me properly, as you call it, because you were attracted to me.’

When she remained silent, he said in an even gentler voice, ‘I want you to know I am attracted to you, Vanessa, very much so.’

She gaped at him.

He put the champagne flute on the garden table and stubbed out his cigarette, took several steps over to her, offering his hands to her.

She took them and he pulled her to her feet, brought her into his arms and held her close. She was trembling as she clung to him, and he himself was shaking inside.

After a while, he released her, and looked at her face, his eyes roaming over it. He lifted a hand and stroked her cheek, then said, ‘Let’s sit down. We have to talk.’

She did as he said, looked across the table at him, and murmured in a low voice, ‘It’s not going to be so easy, is it?’

‘You’re obviously very intelligent, and you are correct. It won’t be easy if, and I say if, we did start … an affair. In fact, it presents many problems.’

‘I can handle it,’ she replied in a low voice, still shaking inside.

‘I’m a lot older than you—’

Interrupting him, she said, ‘I know your age. You’re thirty-nine.’

‘And you? How old are you, actually? Twenty-three, twenty-four?’ He raised a dark brow.

‘I’m twenty-two. You are seventeen years older than me, Robert, but you don’t look it. And I don’t care. Numbers are just that. Numbers. They don’t matter.’

Robert had been slightly taken aback when she told him her real age. She had a certain sophistication about her, self-confidence, and she was rather forthright. Blunt even.

He took a deep breath, and said, ‘Whatever you say, seventeen years is a huge age difference. You grimaced when you explained your brother-in-law is older than your sister.’

‘Oh, did you notice that! Well, Jean-Claude is like an old man, behaves like one, and he’s not drop-dead gorgeous like you.’

He chuckled, ‘Oh, Vanessa, you do take my breath away. But to continue: there is an even greater impediment. I am married.’

‘I know that. I know you have two sons, Quentin and Christian, at prep school. Your wife doesn’t come to London any more. Much of the time you live alone at your beautiful house in Grosvenor Square, when you’re not in Ireland or Yorkshire.’

‘My goodness, do you have some sort of dossier on me?’ he asked in a mild voice, rather pleased with her honesty.