Alyna felt a fear rising in her so that she wanted to scream. It was with the utmost difficulty that she did not throw her arms round Lord Dorrington and beg him not to fight.

It was her fault that this was happening, for the insult had been aimed at her.

She knew too that the Prince had intended that Lord Dorrington should accept his challenge because he was so sure that he would win.

Perhaps he always won such fights by fair means or foul and that was what the Foreign Secretary had been trying to convey to the Prince of Wales.

”Are you ready?” Lord Alvanley asked.

Lord Dorrington turned to leave Alyna’s side.

She looked up at him for a moment, both her hands holding feverishly onto his.

“Just trust me,” Lord Dorrington said again.

Her eyes met his.

“Oh, my darling, take – care of – yourself,” she whispered.

He was very still. Then he was free of her and there was nothing she could do but sit down next to the Prince of Wales.

The guests had made a circle round the duellists. Prince Ahmadi was laughing and showing his white teeth, but Lord Dorrington did not speak.

They removed their shoes so as not to slip on the marble floor and Lord Alvanley called them to attention.

They faced each other.

“On guard!”

For a moment Alyna felt she could not look and closed her eyes.

Then, as she heard the first ring of steel against steel, she opened them again.

It was impossible not to watch, it was impossible to breathe.

Her hands in her lap were clenched together so tightly that the knuckles showed white.

Prince Ahmadi opened the attack, lunging swiftly and aggressively at Lord Dorrington, who countered. The Prince delivered a quick riposte en quinte and Lord Dorrington parried it.

The Prince was becoming more and more ferocious. It was obviously his usual play to attack his opponent relentlessly and violently.

But every time his blade met steel.

Then, as they parried, thrust at each other and then parried again, Alyna realised that the Prince was smiling disdainfully.

He was completely and absolutely sure of himself and his flamboyant theatrical style was impressive because it proclaimed that he felt he was in control of the situation.

Lord Dorrington’s attitude was quieter but absolutely correct. Every movement he made was clear cut, swift and without hesitation.

They fought for perhaps three minutes and then, thrusting in quarte, Lord Dorrington broke through the Prince’s guard and pierced his shoulder.

A crimson stain of blood appeared on the white linen of his shirt.

“Honour is satisfied!” Lord Alvanley cried. “The insult is avenged. The fight can cease.”

Alyna drew in her breath – it was over!

“I fight on,” the Prince replied through gritted teeth.

“If that is what Your Highness wishes,” Lord Dorrington answered.

And they were at it again!