He was amused and aroused and found himself beguiled by a new Circe when he had thought cynically that no woman was different from any other.

If he was intrigued with Aline Langstone, she was falling, to her own consternation, head-over-heels in love with him.

Never had she known such an ardent lover and, as she had quite a considerable experience, this was a very sincere compliment to pay him.

Actually it was one the Duke had come to expect and he often thought that other men must be extremely insensitive or perhaps very selfish that their wives never seemed before he met them to have any knowledge or appreciation of the art of love.

While he was not introspective about himself as a rule, he thought it was perhaps because he gave the same thought to the women in his life that he gave to his horses.

He would never ride a horse without knowing everything about it from its breeding to the personal preferences, dislikes and tricks that every animal had.

With women it was basically the same and, while he amused himself because each one was an individual, he took the trouble to find out what aroused her, made her happy and gave her the greatest satisfaction.

“I love you! I love you!” women had said to him a million times.

He knew that if they had not said so, he would have felt that he had failed them.

Now he thought with a slight frown that it was indiscreet of Aline to speak to him at this moment in full view of everybody else in the ballroom.

She appeared indeed to be listening to the General, but he was aware that she was palpitatingly conscious of him standing beside her as he was of her.

Then at last, like an Angel of Deliverance, an elderly lady came up to attract the General’s attention.

“Sir Alexander, I have been looking for you,” she said reproachfully. “You promised to take me down to supper and, if we do not go now, we may find it difficult to find a place.”

“I can only apologise, my dear lady, if I have kept you waiting,” the General replied gallantly.

He offered her his arm and, as they moved away, the Countess turned quickly towards the Duke.

“I have to see you, Ulric.”

He was about to tell her not to be so indiscreet when something urgent in her voice made him ask,

“What is wrong?”

“I cannot tell you here, but come to tea tomorrow afternoon. I promise it is very important.”

Now the Duke was definitely frowning.

He had made it a rule never to go to the Earl’s house when he was in London and it was in fact a rule he had made with all the women he became involved with.

It had saved him from a great deal of unpleasantness because invariably servants acted as spies for their master.

“I think it unwise,” he said in a low voice.