Carina could hear her mother’s voice telling the tale as she undid the clasp, which was set with amethysts, and opened the box.

Inside, lying on a bed of purple velvet was a small exquisitely fashioned pistol. The handle was made of mother-of-pearl, also ornamented with amethysts, but the barrel was of pure steel. There was nothing fancy about the bullets, which lay in a separate compartment of the box.

Carina primed and loaded the pistol and, holding it in her hand, sat down on the chair, which she had put in the centre of the room.

She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was getting late and she felt that she might have to wait a long time. She arranged herself, sitting upright and alert, her head held high.

Her fingers went once or twice to her mother’s pearls as if to give herself courage. But otherwise her face was quite impassive and, save for the dilated pupils of her eyes, she showed no sign of any agitation or nervousness.

The time went by slowly. There was silence except for the tick of the clock and occasionally the sound of the coals falling in the fireplace in the nursery.

At length, a little after midnight, Carina heard the sound she had been waiting for – a footstep, sure and unhurried, coming up the stairs.

There was nothing surreptitious about it, nothing that conveyed the impression of a man creeping to a clandestine meeting but rather a man triumphant, sure that he would gain what he wanted and certain that he was invincible.

She heard the footsteps cross the nursery floor and the handle of the door was turned, as she had watched it turn the night before when she knew that the lock would hold.

Now it opened and in the doorway stood Sir Percy, just as she expected to see him. The light from the lamp glittered on the diamond studs in his stiff white shirt.

He must have come straight from the card table. There was a half-smoked cigar between his fingers and his lips curved at her with that odious sensual smile that was echoed by the lust in his eyes.

For a moment he only saw her waiting for him.

Then, with an obvious start, he perceived what she held in her hand.

“Come in, Sir Percy, come in,” Carina said and her voice was clear and steady. “I have been waiting for you.”

“What is this? What are you doing?” Sir Percy asked. “Put that damned thing away! Don’t be a fool, girl!”

“I have been waiting for you,” Carina said again, “because I have just learned something of tremendous importance. I have learned from Jenkins that it was you – who k-killed my father.”

“What do you mean? What nonsense are you talking?” Sir Percy cried.