“She’ll probably be relieved,” Conchita replied callously. “She didn’t like that he make cow eyes at her all the time. And he was too young for her. Almost cradle snatching, she said.”

“Where is Ronny?” I asked.

Belinda nodded. “In the boat. Where else. Honestly, she enjoys tinkering with motors like a man. And she’s trying to persuade Paolo to let her have a go at driving the wretched thing.”

“She’d probably be very good at it,” I said. “We’ve watched her land planes.”

“I’m sure she’d be fabulous, but you know Paolo. He’s not about to share his new toy, even if he’s not paying for it.”

Conchita stood up, stretching luxuriantly like a cat. “I have had enough of this. I go back to the house to take a nap. I thought racing motorboats would be exciting, but it is very boring. And no interesting men around.”

“There’s that little American in the boat,” Belinda said with a smirk.

“Him? He would not know what to do with a real woman if he found her in his bed. Darcy—he would know, but I do not think I interest him.”

“There’s always Gussie,” I said, cheered by the knowledge that Darcy had not taken advantage of Conchita’s being ready, willing and very able. “He’s rich and available.”

“Then you have him,” Conchita snapped. “Englishmen make the most hopeless lovers. They make love as if they are playing rugby, with horrible grunting noises. And they do not even consider that a woman likes to enjoy it too.” She ran her hands over her swimsuit in a very suggestive gesture, then turned her back on us and started to walk away down the lakeside.

“She’s sulking because Darcy turned her down,” Belinda said. “I hope you’re not going to let him slip through your fingers this time, Georgie. He really is keen on you, you know. He has to be. Not many men would turn down such an open invitation from someone like Conchita—especially since she is so filthy rich.”

“I don’t want to let him slip through my fingers, believe me,” I said. I took Conchita’s place on the dock beside her. “So are you still madly in love with Paolo?”

She shrugged and kicked her feet up and down in the water. “I don’t think I was ever madly in love. Madly in lust, maybe. And I have to confess the sex is heavenly, and I love the excitement of all that speed.”

I hesitated, wondering if I should share my suspicions. After all, he had been driving away from Balmoral in an awful hurry. “You should be careful about all that speed,” I said at last. “He nearly ran me off the road this morning.”