“Actually no,” I said. “I’m not exactly welcome at Castle Rannoch these days, and Belinda told me I could use her London house while she stays on in Hollywood.” I added, “And now you’ve given me this check, I can actually afford to eat for a while.”

A frown crossed that lovely face. “Darling, have there been times when you couldn’t afford to eat?”

“Oodles of them. I once survived for a month on tea and baked beans.”

“How disgusting. Really, Georgie, if you need something just ask. Max is revoltingly rich, you know. I could get him to make you an allowance, I’m sure.”

“I can’t live off Max’s money, Mummy. Granddad wouldn’t approve, for one thing. Not German money. You know how Granddad would hate that after your brother was killed in the war.”

“One must learn to forgive and forget, as I keep telling your grandfather. And once we’re married—well, it will be my money too, won’t it?” She raised her hands excitedly. “You must come over for the wedding! You can be my maid of honor.”

“Do you really intend to marry him?” I couldn’t bring myself to look at her.

“It’s what he wants, so I suppose the answer is yes. We’ll just have to see, won’t we? Well, I must be toddling off, darling, if I’m to catch the boat train. Take care of yourself and for God’s sake let that gorgeous Darcy take you to bed as soon as possible. Virginity simply isn’t fashionable or even acceptable after twenty.”

And with that she was gone. I had moved into Belinda’s lovely little London mews home and had enjoyed playing a lady of leisure for a while. The one aspect of my happiness that was lacking was that Darcy was off on another secret assignment and I had no idea when he’d return to London or how I could contact him. Really, he was the most infuriating man. I knew he did things that were often hush-hush (I suspected he might even occasionally work undercover for MI5) but an occasional postcard from Buenos Aires or Calcutta would have been nice.