Mrs. Barnstaple knocked on the door and, because the latch had not been securely fastened by the person who had last entered, the slight pressure caused the door to open two or three inches.

Standing outside, Mrs. Barnstaple and Carina could hear quite clearly Lady Lynche’s voice raised in anger.

“Are you crazed? Cannot you see that he is trying to ruin you as he has ruined dozens of other fools? I hear you lost five thousand to him last night.”

“I don’t know where you get your information,” Carina heard Lord Lynche reply, “but it happens to be the truth.”

“Of course it’s the truth!” his mother shrieked at him. “Don’t you realise yet that I know everything that goes on? I may be tied to my bed, but I am not an imbecile. I am well aware that you are behaving like a drunken sot and letting this adventurer suck you dry. Well, I won’t have it, dye hear me?”

“I would hardly refer to Sir Percy as an adventurer, Mama,” Lord Lynche remonstrated. “He is a gambler, I admit that – ”

“He is a reprobate who lives by his wits and on the money he extorts from young nitwits like yourself and I won’t have it, do you understand? I won’t have it! It’s not your money to chuck away.”

“I think there is someone at the door,” Lord Lynche said suavely.

He must have crossed the room quickly because, before Mrs. Barnstaple and Carina, almost mesmerised by what they were hearing, could collect their wits, the door was flung open and he stood facing them.

“Come in, Mrs. Barnstaple,” he said. “You will hear much better if you are inside the room.”

Mrs. Barnstaple seemed unperturbed by his rudeness.

“There is no call for you to speak to me like that, your Lordship,” she replied. “I had just that very moment brought Miss Warner here in search of a thermometer for the poor little Prince who has been taken poorly.”

“You have no thermometer of your own?” Lord Lynche enquired.

“Indeed, I have, my Lord, but Miss Matthews borrowed it for her Ladyship several days ago and has not returned it.”

“Come in, come in,” the Dowager said sharply from the bed. “Don’t stand there yapping in the doorway. What’s wrong with the child?”

Mrs. Barnstaple moved a few paces into the room and Carina, following her, spoke quickly,

“I think he has been upset by too rich a luncheon. With your permission, I think it would be best for him – to have plainer food in the schoolroom.”

“And who invited you downstairs in the first place?” Lady Lynche enquired.

“I gave the order,” Lord Lynche explained. “Actually, Sir Percy told me it was the correct thing and that someone of Royal blood, however young, might feel slighted at not being allowed to consort with his equals.”