The following week couldn’t come soon enough for Elizabeth. There had only been a few times in her adult life when she had felt this excited. One such time was when she’d first met Harry at a dinner party and, after sitting next to her for the evening, he’d asked if he could see her again. That night she had felt as though she was walking on air. Not only was Harry very good-looking, charming, knowledgeable and engaging, but he was also extremely wealthy. It wasn’t until she had done a bit of digging in the ensuing week that she had realised quite how wealthy he was. Yes, she’d been excited then.

Another time was when Harry had proposed to her while they were on holiday in Canada. And her wedding day, of course. That day had been pretty exciting. It was weird how someone who had once had such a dazzling effect on her now seemed dull and boring. What was the saying? All that glitters is not gold. Well, she’d discovered that. Being married to a Sinclair brother had turned out to be more on the bronze side of things, certainly not gold – silver had slipped by too. Still, she couldn’t deny, today was exciting. Today she was going to catch Owen literally with his pants down and the consequence would certainly put a bit of sparkle back into her life.

Elizabeth parked her car several streets away from the centre of town and after a few minutes’ walk was standing at the reception desk of the Kendalton Green Hotel.

‘Elizabeth Sinclair. I have a reservation.’

‘Yes, of course,’ replied the receptionist.

Elizabeth waited patiently while she was assigned a key card and given directions to her room.

The room was a reasonably sized double which overlooked the street, something she had specified when making the booking over the telephone earlier in the week. It was perfectly arranged too. The bed was in the centre of the room and on the opposite wall was the television with a small writing desk below it. This would be the perfect place to site the spy camera.

She had ordered the camera online and, although a little sceptical at first, she had been impressed with it when it had arrived. It was a super-small camera which actually looked like a TV remote control. She had practised with it during the week, setting it up in her own bedroom at home. It was so simple to use that all Camilla would have to do was press the red button and the device would start to record. As far as Owen would know, it was just another remote control. With any luck he’d be too interested in Camilla to bother with his surroundings.