They had reached the end of the corridor and Lord Lynche knocked on a high mahogany door.

“Come in!”

It was a woman’s voice that answered, sharp and authoritative.

Lord Lynche opened the door and walked in ahead, leaving Carina and Dipa to follow.

It was an enormous room and at the far end of it was the largest and most imposing bed Carina had ever seen. It was a four-poster, hung with peacock-blue brocade, which had been exquisitely embroidered.

The posts were carved with gilt angels and on the canopy were huge ostrich feather fronds in blue and crimson, which fluttered nearly to the ceiling. But it was not the bed that commanded Carina’s attention after the first second.

It was the woman who was sitting bolt upright in the centre of it, her back supported by a mountain of pillows.

She was small, old and incredibly wrinkled and yet she gave an impression of majesty and power that was almost indescribable.

Her hair, or it might have been a wig, was piled high upon her head. Round her yellow throat were row upon row of magnificent pearls and on her claw-like fingers there were rings of every description, emeralds, rubies and diamonds, all sparkling is the light of the huge gold candelabrum that stood beside her on a bedside table.

“What a surprise to see you, Justin, at this time of night!” the old lady remarked in a cynical sarcastic voice, which was strong and resonant enough to belie the frailty of her appearance.

“We have visitors, Mama. I knew you would not like to miss the excitement of seeing them.”

“Visitors?”

The old lady stared at Carina and Dipa and then after a moment looked up at her son who stood by her side.

“Who are they? And why have they come here at this hour?”

“I was sure you would be curious.”

To Carina’s astonishment, Lord Lynche was mocking his mother. There was something unpleasantly cynical and at the same time taunting in his voice.

“Who are they?” the Dowager questioned. “Answer me at once!”

Carina felt her anger rising that any man should dare to keep his mother in suspense after deliberately inciting her curiosity.

Dipa pulled himself free of her hand and ran to the hearthrug where a big black and white spaniel was lying in front of the fire.

“Doggie! Doggie!” Dipa called excitedly.

Carina moved nearer to the bed.

“I was asked by Lady Lynche to bring this little boy here to his father,” she said clearly. “Lady Lynche herself is dying.”

“Lady Lynche! Who is Lady Lynche?” the old woman enquired in a voice of fury.

“I thought you would be interested, Mama,” Lord Lynche said and he threw down on the bedspread in front of her the two Certificates that Carina had given him.