“It was not your fault, Jenkins. Make enquiries – very discreetly of course – in case anybody noticed Miss Yamina leaving the Residency and learned where she was going.”

“I’ll do that, my Lord,” Jenkins said with an expression of relief on his face.

Lord Castleford walked to the window to stare out with unseeing eyes at the hills and mountains that encircled Athens.

They were very beautiful in the sunshine, but he saw only two dark eyes looking into his and felt a soft mouth that quivered when he touched it.

‘I will find her again,’ he told himself, ‘even if it takes me a lifetime to do so!’

Deep in his thoughts Jenkins’s voice seemed to come from a long way away as the valet said,

“Excuse me, my Lord, but it’s time you were changing for your visit to the Palace.”

Lord Castleford took a deep breath, his sense of duty took control and for the time being the bitter chaos of his feelings gave way to the discipline of years.

Automatically, hardly aware of what he was doing, he allowed Jenkins to assist him into the diplomatic uniform that he must wear when he presented his credentials to the King of the Hellenes.

The silk stockings, the black knee breeches, the coat copiously embroidered with gold thread, were the trappings that in the past had filled him with pride.

Now he was like a doll in Jenkins’s hands and, when finally he was dressed, he did not even pause to glance at himself in the mirror.

He went down the broad staircase. His gloves and triangular hat were waiting for him in the hall.

There was a closed carriage outside and the sentries came smartly to attention as he stepped into it.

The two horses drew him down the narrow drive and into the street seething with people.

Lord Castleford leant forward.

Perhaps among them, he thought, he would catch sight of Yamina,

But he knew he would be unable to recognise her. There were so many women wearing ferejehs, some white, some black with the Moslems in the dull indecisive grey that made them look like shadows.

They reached the Palace.

The soldiers were splendid in the fustanella – stiff, pleated white skirts that were worn with heavily encrusted gold boleros, tasselled caps set rakishly to one side of their dark heads and cummerbunds holding daggers.

The huge square building had been started by King Otho when he first came to the throne, but he became bored with it and it was finally his father, King Ludwig, who finished it.

The great high salons glittered with crystal chandeliers. The baroque carving, the gilded furniture and the wealth of porcelain was all in the Bavarian tradition.

Lord Castleford was expected and was led by a resplendent Major Domo across the hall to where two flunkeys flung open two magnificently painted doors.