‘Because I’m a gentleman. I’ve been educated to expect a certain way of life that doesn’t exist at home any more.’ He turned away and walked over to the sofa. ‘Out here there’s still a semblance of paternalism on our part, and deference on theirs.’

There was something so naked and unapologetic about his selfishness that I almost admired it. ‘Your sort only thinks of people in terms of their use to you.’

He shrugged again.

‘You admit it, don’t you, that you used me?’

‘It didn’t hurt you.’

‘And Martha? It didn’t hurt her, either? Gregory told me how she died.’

‘I didn’t force the drugs on her,’ he said. ‘Kiki did that for me.’

I came towards him. I could smell pomade and sweat and leather. ‘You didn’t try to stop it, either. It suited you to have her like that.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘She was certainly a trial by the end. Although she taught me I had to make a name for myself – I should thank her for that. Not that it wasn’t already in me, but she brought it out. Edie would never have thought to push me in that way.’

‘Is it that important?’

‘Of course it is. I’m not going to be just another goddamned nobody, like Delamere, marrying a few silly women and kow-towing to the Maasai. I’ve got to be somebody, Theo. I’ve got to make my mark. My rank demands it, if nothing else.’

‘D was your friend.’

He laughed. I’d never found his laugh grating before, but now I felt it along my spine.

‘You don’t get it,’ he said.

‘Because I’m not a gentleman?’

‘Exactly.’ He shifted impatiently from one foot to another. ‘We’re just different people, Theo. I’m sorry.’

I closed my eyes. I tried to remember Freddie when I first met him, charming my parents and sharing a moment with me and Wiley Scot before the races. The way the other men listened to what he had to say, how funny he was. His defending me against Carberry. I’d thought we were friends, that I knew and understood him, that I could grow up to be like him. I’d wanted that so desperately I’d let him come between me and Lucy, and even me and Maud for a while. I’d let him ruin my father’s plans for his legacy. I’d let him dictate my life, and it was suddenly too much to bear. And now I had to live with the guilt of making Martha worse, killing her even.

‘Let me give you a tip,’ he said. ‘Forget Martha. You think too small, young man. What does she matter in the long run?’