chapter one ~ 1869

The train came into Victoria Station and Lord Selwyn stepped out with a deep sigh of relief.

He was home!

There was no carriage waiting to meet him at the Station, but fortunately travelling with him was a French Diplomat, who was to be met by a carriage sent by his Embassy.

“May I give you a lift, my Lord?” he asked politely.

“I would be most grateful,” Lord Selwyn replied. “As I have already informed you, I left sooner than I had expected and did not have time to notify my secretary that I was returning earlier than I had previously arranged.”

The Diplomat smiled.

“I have always been told, my Lord, that it can a dangerous thing to do.”

Lord Selwyn laughed.

“Not as far as I am concerned, but, of course, you are right in principle.”

They stepped into the Embassy carriage.

Lord Selwyn noted it was not only very smart but was drawn by two well-bred horses.

They were not the equal of his own. At the same time they were a credit to whoever had purchased them.

As he sank down against the well-padded back seat, he thought that tonight he would see Maisie Brambury.

She had been in his mind ever since he had left England.

Then while he was in Paris he had made what he knew was the most important decision of his life.

He would get married!

For years and years he had fought against what at first had been subtle hints from his family and then pleadings for him to be married.

He could not imagine in any way why there should be any hurry for him to do so.

Except, of course, that he was distinguished, extremely wealthy and also owned one of the finest Georgian houses in the country.

It was obvious, therefore, that sooner or later he will have to produce an heir to succeed him.

He had decided many years back that the idea of being tied down was abhorrent to him.

He wanted to be free, untrammelled and most definitely unencumbered by a wife.

He had gone to Paris on a delicate Diplomatic mission that had been assigned to him by Lord Clarendon, the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs.

He had been determined to forget all about Lady Brambury.

Paris, he well knew, would be full of women who wanted to flatter him into spending his money. At the same time they made sure that he felt every penny of it had been well spent.

Although he had adhered strictly to the business in hand, which was very characteristic of him, his evenings were totally free.

It was then that he started to search for the attractivecourtesans whom he had met on his last visit.

They welcomed him with open arms and he went from party to party and inevitably from bed to bed.

It was only yesterday morning that he had finally decided that enough was enough.

If he was honest, and he usually was honest with himself, he had to admit that the magic of Paris had this time not been there for him.

He had forced himself to enjoy what in the past had been spontaneous excitement and what the French called very rightlyjoie de vivre.

At first he had asked himself what was wrong.

He just had to admit that instead of the alluring dark eyes looking passionately into his, he could see only the blue of Lady Brambury’s.

He could hear only her voice, soft and childlike, as she talked to him brightly on any and all subjects.

‘I am being a fool!’ he t