Suddenly I noticed a cloud of dust ahead and saw a vehicle coming toward me. A small low vehicle of some sort. Not a delivery van, then. It was a red sports car and it was approaching fast, sending up a cloud of dust behind it. I had to step hastily out of the way. Who on earth had come to visit driving a car like that? One of Darcy’s friends, maybe, disappointed to find he wasn’t at home. The car drew level, was about to pass as I stood in the dappled shade of a plane tree, then suddenly screeched to a halt.

The driver leaped out and rushed toward me yelling, “Georgie, darling! It’s you! I thought I’d missed you.”

Through the cloud of dust the car had stirred up I recognized the flying figure. It was my dear friend Belinda Warburton-Stoke, her sleek black hair hidden under a bright red motoring cap with a jaunty feather on one side and wearing a flame-red cape that flew out as she ran.

“Belinda!” I exclaimed, delighted. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Paris.”

She flung her arms around me, enveloping me in a big hug. “Just got back, darling, and thought I’d come straight down here to surprise you. You can imagine how miffed I felt when your housekeeper said you’d gone up to London for a few days.”

“I was hoping to, but nobody was home,” I said. “I walked from the station. Thank heavens I didn’t stop in the village to get a drink or I’d have missed you.”

She released me from the hug and examined me critically. “Yes,” she said. “You’re looking well. Sex obviously agrees with you, I can see. How is that brute Darcy treating you?”

“He’s not a brute, Belinda, as you very well know.” I laughed. “Darcy is wonderful, except that he’s not here at the moment. He’s gone off on some assignment he can’t talk about and I’m all alone here. So I’m extra pleased to see you. Turn that spiffy motor of yours around and come and have some tea.”

“Hop in,” she said. “You can be impressed with my new toy.”

I climbed into the passenger seat. “This is yours?” I asked.

“He’s an Aston Martin Le Mans. The very latest model!”

“I didn’t even know you knew how to drive,” I said.

“I did learn on Daddy’s estate, years ago,” she said, “but I haven’t had much chance to practice recently. I don’t actually have a license or anything, but it doesn’t really matter, does it? I have to confess to being a bit rusty, especially as this beast is quite temperamental when it comes to gears and things.”