“Careful,” she said. “You don’t want to arrive headfirst. Now go down the ladder backward and watch your footing. I really don’t want to have to fish you out of the Thames.”

“I’ll try hard,” I said. “Do you think I’ll ever outgrow my clumsiness?”

“Probably not,” Belinda replied with a grin. “If deportment classes, gym at Les Oiseaux, and climbing those crags in Scotland haven’t cured you, I’d say you were destined to be clumsy for life.”

I lowered myself down the ladder carefully. I hadn’t reached the bottom step when hands came around my waist and lifted me to the deck.

“Well, look who’s here,” said a familiar voice and there was Darcy, looking devastating in a white open-necked shirt and rolled up sailor’s trousers. “I’m glad Belinda persuaded you to come.”

“So am I,” I stammered, because his hands were still around my waist. To my annoyance I found myself blushing.

“Aren’t you going to give me a hand, Darcy?” Belinda asked. Darcy let go of me.

“If you wish, although I thought you were capable of doing most things remarkably well.”

There was something in the quick glance that passed between them that I couldn’t interpret. It did cross my mind that his might have been the bed she shared last night. I was surprised at the rush of jealousy I felt. But then, I reasoned, why would she have insisted that I come this afternoon if she wanted him for herself?

“Come and meet our host,” Belinda said, dragging me away. “Eduardo, this is my good friend Georgiana Rannoch. Georgie, may I present Eduardo Carrera from Argentina.”

I found myself looking at a most suave gentleman, maybe in his late twenties, dark sleek hair, Ronald Coleman mustache, dressed impeccably in blazer and flannels.

“Señor Carrera.” I held out my hand and he brought it to his lips.

“Delighted to welcome you on board my little tub, Lady Georgiana,” he said in perfect English without trace of a foreign accent.

“Little tub!” I laughed. “Did you sail it all the way from Argentina?”

“No, I regret it was just from the Isle of Wight. Although she is supposed to be up to an Atlantic crossing. I have not been back to Argentina since my parents sent me to Eton. Obviously I’ll have to go back sometime to take over the family business, but until then I make the most of the delights Europe has to offer.” He let his gaze linger first on me then on Belinda in a most suggestive way. “Let me find you some champagne.”

Belinda nudged me as he moved off. “See what I mean about charming foreigners? Any Englishman you meet would say, ‘What-ho, old thing,’ and start talking about the cricket or at most the hunting.”

“He is rather dashing,” I said.