“Splendid idea,” Ronny said. “You see, Mavis, Lady Georgiana is the daughter of a duke and she can make do without servants. So you’d better shape up or I may have to follow suit. A new age is dawning, you know.”

Paolo had been conferring with the barman, and there was a satisfying pop as the cork flew off a bottle of Bollinger.

“Well, go on then,” Ronny said to the long-suffering Mavis, who was now staring at me in fascination. “Take my suitcase and put it in the car, then wait for me there. Oh, and see if you can put the top up. We don’t want to get wet.”

Mavis attempted a curtsy then staggered off. As she went, Ronny’s clear voice echoed across the marble foyer. “I’d sack her in a moment but frankly I know I’d find things like washing and ironing too tiresome.”

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Rannoch House
August 13, 14 and 15, 1932
Wet.

“So what did you think of Ronny?” Belinda asked me on the way home.

“Interesting. Different.”

“She’s certainly her own person, isn’t she?” Belinda said. “Heart of a lion, but she doesn’t care what she says or whom she insults.” She turned to Paolo, who was slumped in the window seat. “I saw you were rather taken with her.”

“She amazes me and amuses me,” he said, “but as to anything more, she has about as much sex appeal as a plate of spaghetti Bolognese.”

“I don’t know, spaghetti can be quite sexy, if eaten in the nude.” Belinda gave him the most provocative look.

Paolo laughed. “Belinda, you are quite the most shameless girl I know. Angelina would go and say a dozen Hail Marys if a thought like that even crossed her mind.”

“That’s why I’m more fun than Angelina,” Belinda said. “Go on, admit that you have more fun when you are with me.”

“Of course I do, but I do not think you will make anybody a suitable wife.”

I watched them as the train chuffed toward Victoria. Belinda was going to wind up like my mother, leaping from bed to bed with gay abandon, I decided. The thought seemed to worry me more than it did her.

They dropped me off at Rannoch House then disappeared, presumably for a night of sin. I didn’t sleep much either. The thunderstorm had left the air sticky, and even with the windows open it was too hot to sleep. I lay awake, listening to the sounds of the city, and found myself thinking about Belinda and Paolo. What would it be like to spend the night in the arms of a man? Then of course my thoughts turned to a particular man. What was he doing at this moment? Was he really still recuperating at his family’s place in Ireland or was he somewhere else, with someone else? One never knew with Darcy.