‘You could, I suppose,’ he said rather doubtfully, ‘but in my experience, most women seem to find them rather boring.’

‘I wouldn’t,’ said Marnie decisively. ‘I’ve been driving since I was a kid of eleven – not on the highway, of course – but my father’s a real car freak. He’s got his own racetrack back home in Virginia. He had me and my half-brothers practising on skidpads as soon as we could steer an old banger round the track. My father’s got a 1933 Packard V12 which comes out on state occasions. It’s known in the family as “Dad’s mistress” – though goodness knows he’s had plenty of the real variety too. And he adores roaring round in his old Ford Mustang. I enjoy driving that too. But then I love driving . . . almost anything.’

‘What is it you specially like about it?’ Neil Dunbarnock looked at her with interest.

Marnie considered. ‘Perhaps it’s because it frees me up. I feel in control behind the wheel,’ she said at last. ‘When I was little, speed terrified me and I hated going out with my father – he used to scare the daylights out of me – till he had the bright idea of teaching me to drive myself. It was a revelation! I don’t know who was more surprised or pleased, him or me, and it’s been a great bond between us. Now it’s one of the few things I do that I’m really confident about. I’ve always been afraid of things happening that I couldn’t handle. In the English bit of my childhood we had ponies. My mother has always ridden and one of my stepfathers was an MFH, but I was terrified. My pony bolted with me once when I was about ten, and oh boy, was I shit-scared then! I lost my nerve so completely that I even faced up to my mother and said I wouldn’t ride again – and that took some courage, I can tell you. But when I’m behind the wheel I feel . . .’ She paused. ‘I suppose I feel I’m in charge,’ she said. ‘I even enjoy going fast – so long as it’s me doing the driving. It’s what other people may do that always panics me.’ She laughed and pulled a mocking face, but her companion, who was far more observant than most of his acquaintances gave him credit for, thought she looked sad. ‘I guess that goes for other things as well as driving,’ she said. ‘People just tend to frighten me . . . full stop!’

‘People frighten me too,’ said Lord Dunbarnock, smiling at her very kindly. ‘I’m much better with engines. I know what I’m doing with those. And, yes, I’d be pleased to show you my cars as well as the records if Giles and Isobel bring you over.’ He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘I might even let you drive one.’