Robert smiled his dazzling smile at his longest friend, who had been with him for thirty-one years, and made no comment.

It was at this precise moment that the sun burst out from behind the clouds and filled the breakfast room with radiant light. To Adrian, it was as if a spotlight had been shone on Robert.

For the first time in years, he saw him objectively, as a stranger might view him. The sparkling, very blue eyes, the sleek black head of hair, the chiselled features, the white teeth and the smile that captivated all. He’s a truly beautiful man, Adrian suddenly thought, not merely handsome. And there is the charisma, the fierce intellect, the extraordinary business acumen. That in itself was unbelievable. The way Robert had taken a long-time family business – several centuries old, in fact – and turned it from a profitable venture into a gargantuan empire.

Lassiter Estates owned half of Westminster and Mayfair, Kensington and beyond, not to mention much of the East End and the docks. He had the mansion and family estate in Ireland, as well as Bolton Manor and its land in Yorkshire, and he oversaw all of it. He’s a bloody marvel, Adrian thought.

And then, immediately, he understood it all. Everything there was to know about that estranged wife of Robert’s, the difficult Lucinda.

She was resentful and bitter about Lord Robert Lassiter. Envious and mean-spirited. Because Robert was the star of the show. And she was a nobody. She couldn’t bear it.

And so she had locked the bedroom door on him, and eventually found another man. Not a handsome man, but one who was plain, nondescript and seemingly did her bidding. She was with him because he had a certain amount of power. But it was she who shone in that relationship, with her silver-blonde hair, big bust and long legs. Like her lover, her face was not beautiful, but she had a certain flair with clothes. And with Léon Theroux, she was the star of the show.

Total and complete jealousy burning in that woman was the explanation for nine years of emptiness for Robert. And yet he believed she would never agree to a divorce. Punishing him?

Adrian wasn’t sure of that. But he knew one thing, the dossier he had on her would ruin her. And free Robert Lassiter finally.

‘You’re looking rather solemn,’ Robert said, breaking the silence. ‘Are you worried about something? Or about me?’

Adrian shook his head. ‘I’m not worried about you. You are going to be just fine. Actually, I was thinking about going to the cemetery next week. Would you come with me? I do think I’ll need your company. At least on the journey. I’m all right to go to Annabel’s grave alone, though.’