Alyna did not wait to hear the Prince’s reply. She moved swiftly to Lord Dorrington’s side and put her hands on his arm.

“Please don’t fight him! Please! Please!” she begged.

Lord Dorrington looked down at her and put his hand over hers.

He could feel that her fingers were cold and fluttering like a frightened bird.

“It’s all right, Alyna,” he said quietly. “Trust me.”

“You don’t understand – I have just heard that the – Prince is a noted – swordsman,” Alyna whispered.

“You would not have me afraid of him?” Lord Dorrington asked. “And you must not be afraid.”

“But I am afraid,” she said. “I am afraid for – you.”

He would have answered her, but at that moment the Prince of Wales called him and Alyna saw that the servants had brought a long polished box into the centre of the conservatory.

It contained two duelling swords and their host was inspecting them.

“I have suggested, Dorrington,” the Prince of Wales said as Lord Dorrington reached his side, “that Alvanley should act as one referee and His Excellency the other.”

As he spoke, he looked towards the Minister who had arrived with Prince Ahmadi. The man bowed ostentatiously to Lord Dorrington, but there was a look in his eye that showed he was delighted at the thought of his Master showing off his prowess in such distinguished company.

Seats had been arranged for at least half the guests and the Prince walked towards a high-backed velvet-covered chair not unlike a throne where he intended to sit.

“Come next to me, Lady Dorrington,” he insisted.

It was a command, but Alyna did not move, she was only looking agonisingly towards Lord Dorrington.

As if he realised her distress, he handed the sword he had in his hand to Lord Alvanley and came to her side.

“You cannot do – this, you – cannot,” she said despairingly.

“I must, Alyna,” he answered, “and once again I can only ask you to trust me. Believe in me. I had not realised that you were so faint-hearted.”

‘I am – not,’ she tried to say, but now it was almost impossible to speak.

Lord Dorrington drew his fob from his pocket and put it in his coat pocket. Then he took off his coat and stood there in his thin white muslin shirt.

It showed even better than his coat had done the breadth of his shoulders and it was easy to perceive that his body was hard, muscular and athletic.

But he still looked very slim and elegant, Alyna thought.

Glancing behind her she saw Prince Ahmadi, and even without his evening coat he was large and menacing and somehow overpowering.

He was considerably heavier than Lord Dorrington and she had the feeling that he would win because he was more powerfully built – and more brutal.