“A very good one, as it happens,” Lord Dorrington replied. “I will tell you about it some time, but not now. You will not forget?”

“Your wish is my command, my Lord,” Lord Alvanley said mockingly.

Lord Dorrington laughed and walked out into Bond Street to climb into his phaeton, which was waiting for him.

He took the reins himself and drove through the traffic-filled streets towards Holland Park.

It took him a little time to get there, but it was a pleasant drive since it was a warm sunny afternoon. The trees were brilliant with blossom and there were tulips in Hyde Park.

Finally he arrived at a large square-built house with a short drive, standing in its own garden.

Lord Dorrington climbed down from the phaeton and walked up the steps to the porticoed front door.

It opened almost immediately and the butler, having greeted him respectfully, led him upstairs to a salon whose windows overlooked a Rose Garden.

As Lord Dorrington was announced, a woman rose from the window seat where she had been staring out into the garden.

She was very beautiful with dark hair drawn back from an oval forehead in which her eyebrows were winged against a very white skin.

Leoni Cresswell was not a conventional beauty in the pink-and-white mould of Georgina, Duchess of Devonshire or the somewhat fulsome Junoesque charms of Mrs. Fitzherbert.

But she was undoubtedly beautiful. Her features were lovely, finely chiselled and she had an almost Medieval look about her.

She was like a picture by Cranach with the same spiritualised line of the cheeks and sensitive curves of her mouth.

“Ulric, I was expecting you,” she greeted him in a soft musical voice.

Lord Dorrington reached her side and taking both her hands in his raised them to his lips, one after another.

“I informed you that I would come this afternoon,” he said.

“I was beginning to think you had forgotten me,” Lady Cresswell replied gently.

Lord Dorrington did not answer. Instead he drew a small package from his pocket and put it in her hands.

“I have brought you a present.”

“A present!” she exclaimed. “Is this an apology because you have been neglecting me so unkindly these past few weeks?”

“I hope it will express my contrition more eloquently than I can myself,” Lord Dorrington replied.

She opened the small box.

Inside there was a brooch. It was made of dark green enamel fashioned in the shape of a mermaid, hung with large baroque pearls and set with rubies.

It was a lovely piece of jewellery and undoubtedly unique.

Lady Cresswell stared at it for a moment and then she said,

“How could you have found anything so beautiful? It is, I am sure, very old!”