It was not a particularly attractive building, having been in the family for nearly fifty years without having many modern improvements made to it.

At the same time the reception rooms were impressive and beautifully decorated with a profusion of flowers.

The Countess was well aware that the high windows with their draped velvet and tasselled curtains and the gilt decorated French furniture made a fitting frame for her beauty.

She had, of course, been painted by several distinguished artists, but of the portraits hung in her husband’s house in London and in his mansion in the country, including one particular picture that decorated his bedroom, none of them did her justice.

The artists had portrayed very faithfully the whiteness of her skin, the darkness of her hair with blue lights in it and the perfection of her features.

But they had none of them quite managed to capture the enticement of her lips or the irresistible invitation in her eyes.

Now, as she moved about the drawing room, she was reflected in several gilt-framed mirrors and, as she glanced at herself, she was well aware of the grace with which she moved and the sinuous length of her long neck.

Long necks, small waists and a well curved figure were most admired in the beauties of the day and while the Queen was too short to qualify, the Countess won on every point, as the Duke had told her.

‘How can I lose him?’ Aline Langstone asked herself now as she waited for him to arrive.

Ever since she had first burst into the Social world on the arm of the very eligible and very important Earl of Langstone, she had been admired and acclaimed in a manner that would have turned any young girl’s head.

Aline had been no exception.

But, while she flirted and certainly encouraged every man she met to compliment her as eloquently as he was capable of doing, she had been faithful to her husband until she had presented him with two sons.

After that, having done her duty, she had melted into the arms of one man after another, only managing to conceal her behaviour from the Earl because he believed her to be a cold woman.

He had certainly been unable to light the fires within her that flickered enjoyably with several lovers before they burst into a blaze for the Duke.

From the very first moment she had seen him, standing out among a number of other good-looking and well-dressed men, she had been determined to ensnare him.

He had been more elusive than she had expected, but she was confident that she would succeed.

When eventually she had captured the Duke, she had learnt that her instinct had been right in telling her that he was different from any other man.

A number of other women had thought the same thing, but to Aline the Duke was a revelation.

Only by holding tightly onto her common sense had she prevented herself from falling so desperately in love as to throw away all restrictions and precautions.