“That’s the point. The air isn’t fresh.” He unwound the layers of scarf, then looked up and saw me sitting on the window seat. “Why, Georgie, old bean. How splendid. Have you returned home after the wedding?”

I noticed that he still thought of Rannoch House as my home whereas his wife saw me as an unwanted visitor.

“Hello, Binky,” I said. “Yes, I got booted out of Kensington Palace this morning so I thought I’d come here to catch my breath before I go off somewhere else.”

“Jolly good,” he said. “Lovely to have you, isn’t it, Fig?”

“What? Oh yes. Yes, of course.” And she hurriedly took another sip of coffee.

“By the way, Georgie,” Binky said, “you’re not still keen on that O’Mara chap, are you? I’ve just come from the club and all the chaps were talking about his father. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but he’s been arrested for murder. Apparently he bashed some American chappie over the head with one of the family weapons. I don’t know if there is a hint of insanity there, but the man sounds to be an out-and-out bounder.” He perched on the sofa, facing me. “Apparently he’s been running this very successful racing stable for the American millionaire who bought his estate when he went bankrupt. They had a string of successes . . . gold cups, you name it. And then it turns out that it was all because he was doping the horses. Injecting them with some concoction of drugs to make them run faster. Absolute blighter. And of course it all came to light when a horse that was leading in a big race dropped dead before the finish and the drugs were found in its system.” He leaned toward me. “They never did prosecute but the American sacked him right away. Didn’t want him anywhere near his horses. So I suppose Lord Kilhenny was angry and got his revenge.”

“Absolutely barbaric,” Fig said. “Binky, you are to tell Georgiana that we never want to hear that name mentioned again and she is forbidden any contact with this Darcy person.”

“Just a minute,” I said, feeling my face flushing red. “We don’t even know that Darcy’s father is guilty yet, and whatever he might have done, you can’t tar Darcy with the same brush.”

“I’m afraid Fig’s right this time, old bean,” Binky said. “Your chap might be true-blue as they come, but the scandal will hover over him just the same. Blight him for the rest of his life, I shouldn’t wonder.”

“Then he will need friends to stick by him,” I retorted. “And fortunately Darcy seems to have plenty of friends, including me.”

“If it comes out that you are in any way connected to him, it would be all over the newspapers,” Fig said. Clearly she was enjoying this. “The family would be mortified.”