“I only heard about it this morning,” I said. “I’m very sorry. I remember him as such a nice man.”

“Oh, he was. One of the best. So good to me, you know, even though I was only a distant relative. My mother was his mother’s cousin. You knew his mother was French, I suppose. Well, my parents were killed in the Great War and he took frightful risks coming over to France to rescue me. He has raised me as if I were his own son. I owe him a huge debt of gratitude that I’ll never be able to repay now.”

“So you’re actually French, not English?”

“I am, but I’m afraid my mastery of the language is no better than the average schoolboy’s. I can just about manage ‘la plume de ma tante’ and all that. Shameful, really, but I was only two years old when I was brought to Eynsleigh. It’s a lovely house, isn’t it? One of the prettiest in England. Do you remember it well?”

“Hardly at all. I have a vague memory of the lawns and those fountains, and wasn’t there a fat little pony?”

“Squibbs. You tried to make him jump over a log and he bucked you off.”

“So he did.”

We looked at each other and smiled. I had thought him the usual run-of-the-mill mindless twit until now, but the smile lit up his whole face and made him look quite appealing.

“So what will happen to the house if Sir Hubert dies?” I asked.

“Sold, I expect. He has no children of his own to inherit. I am the closest he has to a son, but he never officially adopted me, unfortunately.”

“What are you doing with yourself now?”

“I’ve just come down from Oxford and Sir Hubert arranged for me to be articled to a solicitor in Bromley in Kent, of all places. I’m not sure that I’m cut out for the law, but my guardian wanted me to have a stable profession, so I suppose I’ve got to stick with it. Frankly I’d much rather be off on adventures and expeditions like him.”

“A little more dangerous,” I pointed out.

“But not boring. How about you?”

“I’ve just arrived in London and I’m not sure what I’m going to be doing with myself. It’s not quite as easy for me to just go out and get a job.”

“No, I suppose it wouldn’t be,” he said. “Look, now that you’re in London, maybe we can do some exploring together. I happen to know the city quite well and I’d be delighted to show you around.”

“I’d like that,” I said. “I’m staying at the family home. Rannoch House on Belgrave Square.”

“And I’m in digs in Bromley,” he said. “A slight difference.”

Another young man in a morning coat approached. “Buck up, old thing,” he said to Tristram. “We need all the grooms-men outside toot sweet. We’ve got to sabotage the car before they drive away.”

“Oh, right. Coming.” Tristram gave me an apologetic smile. “Duty calls,” he said. “I do hope we meet again soon.”