This Was A Man

21

‘I don’t know how to begin to thank you,’ said Kelly. ‘If you hadn’t written to warn me that Mr Clifton was on his way, I would never have known he was no friend of my father’s.’

‘It was the least I could do,’ said Virginia.

‘And then those endless reverse-charge calls. They must have cost you a fortune...’

‘I felt it was important that you knew the truth about Farthings, and particularly how Sebastian Clifton had treated your father in the past.’

‘But he’s always seemed so nice.’

‘Are you surprised, when so many millions were involved? And you have to remember his first interest was always Thomas Cook, not you.’

‘And what a brilliant idea of yours to find out how much Mr Sorkin would have paid for my shares and then get Thomas Cook to match it.’

‘Your father was not only a close friend, but taught me a great deal about business over the years.’

‘But you didn’t have to lend me twenty thousand pounds until the deal went through.’

‘I thought it would help tide you over.’

‘It will do more than that, so much more,’ said Kelly. ‘I must pay you back every penny I owe you.’

‘There’s no hurry,’ said Virginia, who still had over two hundred thousand pounds in her current account, and was already looking forward to another windfall. ‘More important, Kelly my dear, how is little Cindy settling down?’

‘I’ve never seen her so happy. She loves her new school, and already has several best friends.’

‘I do envy you. I’ve always wanted a child of my own, and now it’s too late. Perhaps you’ll allow me to be an honorary grandmother.’

‘I can’t think of anyone more appropriate to guide Cindy through her formative years,’ said Kelly, who hesitated for a moment before adding, ‘but there’s something else I need to discuss with you, Virginia, that I’ve been feeling a little guilty about.’

‘You have nothing to feel guilty about, my dear. On the contrary. I’ll never be able to repay your father for his kindness to me over the years.’

‘And I must now repay you for your kindness, because I know you and my father were not only close friends, but business partners, and I therefore have to ask you an embarrassing question.’ Kelly hesitated again, and this time Virginia didn’t come to her rescue. ‘What percentage did he pay after you’d closed a deal?’

A question Virginia was well prepared for. ‘Desmond was a generous man,’ she said, ‘and always paid me a fee of twenty-five thousand pounds, and ten per cent of the final settlement plus any expenses I had incurred on his behalf. But there’s no need for you to—’

‘There most certainly is. I shall treat you the same way my father did, and you’ll be paid in full just as soon as the deal with Thomas Cook goes through.’

‘No hurry, my darling,’ said Virginia. ‘Your friendship is far more important to me.’

Five weeks later Kelly received a cheque from Thomas Cook for three million pounds, and immediately sent a cheque to Virginia for £345,000 to cover her loan, her fee and 10 per cent of the three million.

Virginia didn’t press Kelly for any expenses. After all, she hadn’t invested a great deal to find her quarry. A few phone calls and, once Kelly was back in England, a couple of meals in restaurants where no one was likely to recognize them. The only real cost had been hiring a private detective in Chicago to track down the missing Kelly Mellor. Well, to be accurate, he first caught up with Cindy Mellor at her school, where he handed over two letters to Cindy’s mother when she came to pick up her daughter. Once she’d read the two letters, Kelly made a reverse-charge call from a phone box that afternoon. So when Giles got in touch with Virginia, she knew exactly what he was really after.

The detective’s bill of $2,000 had been more than covered by Farthings in return for a copy of Desmond Mellor’s will and an address that would lead them to his next of kin. Sebastian Clifton also saved her the expense of travelling to Chicago, bringing Kelly Mellor back to England and preparing her for the encounter with Sorkin, only to end up having to pay double for Kelly’s 51 per cent of the company. Virginia decided she could afford to be magnanimous about expenses this time, confident that Kelly was about to replace her father as an alternative source of income.

‘Let me try to understand what you are proposing, Lady Virginia,’ said Sir Edward Makepeace. ‘You want me to approach Cyrus T. Grant’s solicitors, and suggest that instead of paying £100,000 a year for the next nine years, you would be willing to settle the action with a one-off payment of £500,000?’

‘In full and final settlement.’

‘I’ll get in touch with Lord Goodman and let you know what he thinks of your proposal.’

It took Cyrus T. Grant III a month before he agreed to settle his action with Virginia for £500,000 in full and final settlement, and only after being nagged constantly by Ellie May.

‘As my grandfather used to say,’ she reminded him, ‘better a dollar in the bank than the promise of a dowry.’

Another month passed before Virginia received a bill from Sir Edward Makepeace, for £2,300, which she settled immediately, as she could never be sure when she might need his services again.

One of the few letters she did open during the following weeks was from Coutts, informing her that her current account was still £41,000 in credit. Desmond Mellor was proving to be far more lucrative dead than alive.

When the clocks went back an hour, and the temperature began to drop, Virginia’s thoughts turned to a winter vacation. She was finding it difficult to decide between a villa in the South of France, or the royal suite at the Sandy Lane hotel in Barbados. Perhaps she’d let the young man she’d recently met in Annabel’s decide which he would prefer. She was thinking about Alberto, when she opened another letter which quickly removed any thought of holidays from her mind. After Virginia had recovered from the shock, she looked up the number of her bank manager and made an appointment to see Mr Leigh the following day.

‘One hundred and eighty-five thousand pounds?’ protested Virginia.

‘That is correct, my lady,’ said Mr Leigh, once he’d read the letter from HM Inspector of Taxes.

‘But how can that be possible?’

‘I presume you’re familiar with capital gains tax, my lady?’

‘Familiar, yes, but we’ve never been introduced.’

‘Well, I fear you are about to be,’ said Leigh, ‘because the taxman is demanding thirty per cent of the £230,000 profit you made from the sale of the Lowrys, the £300,000 commission, and the £25,000 fee you were paid following the successful takeover of Mellor Travel.’

‘But doesn’t the taxman realize I haven’t got £185,000? I parted with almost every penny to clear my debt with Cyrus.’

‘HM’s Inspector of Taxes is blind to any personal problems you might have,’ Mr Leigh pointed out unhelpfully. ‘They are only aware of your earnings, not how much you spend.’

‘What will happen if I don’t reply to their letter?’

‘If you fail to respond within thirty days, they will start charging you a punitive interest rate until you do.’

‘And if I can’t?’

‘They will take you to court, have you declared bankrupt and confiscate all your assets.’

‘Who would have thought,’ said Virginia, ‘the taxman would turn out to be an even worse bitch than Ellie May Grant.’

Virginia knew the one person who could be relied on to solve her problem with the taxman, and although she hadn’t been in touch with her for several months — ‘Pressure of work,’ she would explain — she didn’t think it would be difficult to convince Kelly to invest a couple of hundred thousand in a deal that couldn’t fail.

Once she had arrived home following her meeting with Mr Leigh, Virginia spent some time searching for the letter Kelly had sent some weeks earlier, which she now regretted not replying to. Still, she thought, looking at the address on top of the notepaper, all the more reason to pay a surprise visit to The Little Gables, Lodge Lane, Nailsea, near Bristol.

The following morning Virginia rose before the sun, an unusual occurrence, but in truth she hadn’t been able to sleep. She set off for the West Country just after nine a.m., and used the long drive to rehearse the lines about a once-in-a-lifetime investment opportunity that Kelly would be foolish not to take advantage of.

She passed a sign for Nailsea just before midday, and stopped to ask an elderly gentleman the way to Lodge Lane. As she drew up outside The Little Gables her heart sank when she spotted a For Sale sign on the front lawn. Virginia assumed Kelly must be moving to a bigger house. She walked up the driveway and knocked on the front door. A few moments later it was opened by a young man who gave her an expectant smile.

‘Mrs Campion?’

‘No, I am not Mrs Campion. I’m the Lady Virginia Fenwick.’

‘I apologize, Lady Fenwick.’

‘I’m also not Lady Fenwick. I am the daughter of an earl, not the wife of a life peer. You may address me as Lady Virginia.’

‘Of course,’ he said, and apologized a second time. ‘How can I help you, Lady Virginia?’

‘You can start by telling me who you are.’

‘My name is Neil Osborne and I’m the estate agent in charge of the sale of this property. Are you an interested party?’

‘Certainly not. I am simply visiting my old friend Kelly Mellor. Does she still live here?’

‘No, she moved out soon after instructing us to put the house back on the market.’

‘Has she moved somewhere locally?’

‘Perth.’

‘In Scotland?’

‘No, Australia.’ That silenced Virginia for a moment, and allowed the young man to complete a second sentence. ‘All I can tell you, Lady Virginia, is that Kelly instructed us to send the proceeds of the sale to a joint bank account in Perth.’

‘A joint bank account?’

‘Yes, I only met Barry once, quite soon after they became engaged. He seemed a nice enough fellow,’ Osborne added as he looked over Virginia’s shoulder. ‘Are you Mr and Mrs Campion?’ he asked a young couple who were walking up the driveway.

When Virginia received a second letter from HM Inspector of Taxes, she realized there was only one person left she could turn to, although he wasn’t someone who would believe a story about an investment that couldn’t fail.

She chose a weekend when the Hon. Freddie Fenwick would be at boarding school, and her sister-in-law, a woman Virginia had never much cared for, and she suspected the feeling was mutual, would be visiting an elderly aunt in Dumfries.

Virginia didn’t take the sleeper, a misnomer in her opinion, because she could never manage more than an hour’s sleep while the carriage rattled over the points. Instead, she opted to travel up to Scotland during the day, which would give her more than enough time to go over her plan, and prepare for any awkward questions her brother might come up with. After all, when she’d rung him to say she wanted his advice and needed to see him urgently, she knew he would assume that ‘advice’ was another misnomer, although she accepted that he might consider £185,000 a bit steep, unless he was willing to support her claim that...

Archie sent the car, if you could call a clapped-out 1975 Vauxhall estate a car, to pick her up when she arrived at Edinburgh Waverley. Her ladyship was driven to Fenwick Hall accompanied only by the smell of Labradors and spent cartridges, without once addressing the chauffeur.

As the butler accompanied Lady Virginia to the guest bedroom, he informed her that his lordship was out shooting but was expected back in time for dinner. Virginia took her time unpacking, something that would have been done by a lady’s maid in her father’s day, followed by a soak in a warm bath that she’d had to run herself. After dressing for dinner, she sharpened her nails in preparation for the encounter.

Dinner passed smoothly enough, but then they didn’t discuss anything consequential until after coffee had been served and the servants had retired.

‘I’m pretty sure you didn’t come all this way simply to find out how the family are, Virginia,’ said Archie after pouring himself a brandy. ‘So tell me, what’s the real reason for your visit?’

Virginia put down her coffee cup, took a deep breath, and said, ‘I’m giving serious consideration to challenging father’s will.’ After she had delivered her well-prepared opening salvo, it was clear from the expression on her brother’s face that he wasn’t surprised.

‘On what grounds?’ he asked calmly.

‘On the grounds that father had promised to leave the Glen Fenwick Distillery to me, along with its annual profits of around £100,000 a year, which would have allowed me to live comfortably for the rest of my days.’

‘But as you well know, Virginia, in his will Father left the distillery to Freddie, whom you abandoned several years ago, leaving me with the responsibility of bringing your son up.’

‘He isn’t my son, as you well know. He’s no more than the offspring of my former butler and his wife. So he has absolutely no claim on father’s estate.’

Virginia eyed her brother, waiting to see how he would react to this bombshell, but once again, not a flicker of surprise furrowed his brow.

Archie bent down and stroked Wellington, who was sleeping by his side. ‘Not only am I well aware that Freddie isn’t your son, but it was confirmed beyond doubt following a visit from Mrs Ellie May Grant, who told me in great detail about the charade you set up when her fiancé was staying at the Ritz some years ago, and your subsequent claim that you were pregnant and that Cyrus was Freddie’s father.’

‘Why did that woman want to see you?’ demanded Virginia, somewhat thrown off course.

‘To find out if I was willing to pay back any of the money you’d fraudulently claimed from her husband over the past decade.’

‘You could have offered her the income from the distillery until the debt was cleared, which would have solved all my problems.’

‘As you are well aware, Virginia, it isn’t mine to offer. Father left the distillery to Freddie and stipulated that it should be managed by me until the boy reaches his twenty-fifth birthday, when it will automatically become his.’

‘But now you know Freddie isn’t my son, surely you’ll support my claim that in an earlier will, which both of us saw, Father left the distillery to me.’

‘But he later changed his mind. And it wasn’t until Mrs Grant told me what her husband’s favourite whisky was that I realized the significance of father only leaving you a bottle of Maker’s Mark in his will, which rather suggests that he also knew Freddie wasn’t your son.’

‘I’ve received a tax bill for £185,000,’ blurted out Virginia, ‘that I can’t afford to pay.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Archie. ‘But from my experience, the taxman doesn’t send out demands for £185,000 unless the person concerned has made a capital gain of —’ he hesitated for a moment — ‘around half a million.’

‘I’ve spent every penny I made settling Cyrus’s claim, and now there’s nothing left.’

‘Well, I certainly don’t have that kind of money at my disposal, Virginia, even if I was willing to help you. Every penny I earn is ploughed back into the estate, which incidentally just about broke even last year, and as you can see, we’re not exactly living high on the hog. In fact, if I’m forced to make any more cutbacks, the next one will have to be your monthly allowance. The irony is that Freddie did better out of Father’s will than any of us.’

‘But all that would change if only I could get my hands on the distillery.’ Virginia leant forward and looked hopefully at her brother. ‘If you back me, Archie, I’d be willing to split fifty-fifty.’

‘Not a chance, Virginia. Those were clearly Father’s wishes, and in that same will, he instructed me to see that they were carried out. And that’s exactly what I intend to do.’

‘But surely blood comes before—’

‘Keeping your word? No, it doesn’t, Virginia, and I must warn you that if you were reckless enough to challenge Father’s will and the matter were to come to court, I wouldn’t hesitate to back Freddie’s claim, because that is no more than Father would have expected of me.’

On her return journey to London, Virginia concluded that once again, she would have to get in touch with her distant cousin in Argentina — and fairly urgently.

The following morning Virginia received a final reminder from HM Inspector of Taxes, which she screwed up and dropped into the nearest waste-paper basket. By the afternoon, she was reluctantly considering booking an economy class ticket to Buenos Aires, and had even started to pack, while thinking about the things she would miss if she were exiled, including Annabel’s, her friend Priscilla, Bofie and even the Daily Mail. She somehow doubted that the Buenos Aires Herald would have quite the same appeal.

She turned to Nigel Dempster to find out what her friends were up to. A photograph of a woman she didn’t care for dominated his column, although the news of her death didn’t cause Virginia’s heart to miss a beat.

It is with great sadness, Dempster reported, that I learned of the death of Lavinia, Duchess of Hertford, who was so admired for her beauty, charm and wit. That wasn’t how you described her when she was alive, thought Virginia. She will be sadly missed by her many friends — who could all have joined her for tea in a telephone box. But because she was so rich and powerful, everyone had always bowed and scraped to her. The funeral will be held at St Albans Abbey, and will be attended by Princess Margaret, one of the Duchess’s oldest friends. The Duchess leaves behind a son, Lord Clarence, two daughters, Lady Alice and Lady Camilla, and her devoted husband, the thirteenth Duke of Hertford. The funeral will take place on...

Virginia opened her diary, pencilled in the date and unpacked again.

22

Virginia may have been penniless but no one who saw her walk into St Albans Abbey that morning would have believed it. She was wearing a black silk dress with a pearl brooch her grandmother had left her, and carried a black Hermès handbag she still hadn’t paid for.

She entered the west door a few minutes before the service was due to begin, only to find the abbey was already full. She was looking around the packed congregation, anxious not to be relegated to a place near the back, unnoticed, when she spotted a tall, elegant man in a tailcoat carrying an usher’s rod. She gave him a warm smile, but he clearly didn’t recognize her.

‘I’m the Lady Virginia Fenwick,’ she whispered. ‘A close family friend.’

‘Of course, m’lady, please follow me.’

Virginia accompanied him down the aisle, past rows of mourners who knew their place. She was delighted when the usher found her a seat in the fifth row, directly behind the family, which fitted in neatly with the first part of her plan. While pretending to study the order of service, she glanced around to see who was seated nearby. She recognized the dukes of Norfolk, Westminster and Marlborough, along with several hereditary peers who had all been friends of her late father. She glanced back to see Bofie Bridgwater seated several rows behind her, but she didn’t acknowledge his exaggerated bow.

The organ struck up to announce a parade of the great and good who were led sedately down the aisle by the chief usher. The Mayor of Hertford was followed by the sheriff and the lord lieutenant of the county, all of whom were shown to their places in the third row. A moment later they were followed by the Lord Barrington of Bristol Docklands, the former leader of the House of Lords.

As Giles passed Virginia, she turned away. She didn’t want her ex-husband to know she was there. Not part of her well-choreographed plan. Giles took his reserved seat in the second row.

A moment later the congregation rose as one when the coffin, bedecked in white lilies, began its slow passage down the aisle towards the chancel. It was borne on the shoulders of six guardsmen from the First Battalion of the Coldstream Guards, the regiment the duke had served in as a major during the Second World War, and of which he was now honorary colonel.

The thirteenth Duke of Hertford, followed by his son and two daughters, walked behind the coffin, and took their places in the front row, while the coffin was placed on a bier in the chancel. The funeral service was conducted by the Bishop of Hertford, whose eulogy reminded those present what a saintly person the late duchess had been, emphasizing her tireless work as patron of Dr Barnardo’s and as chairman of the Mothers’ Union. The bishop concluded by expressing his heartfelt condolences to the duke and his family, finally adding that he hoped with the help of the Almighty they would come to terms with their loss.

Along with a little assistance from me, thought Virginia.

When the service was over, Virginia joined a select group of mourners who attended the burial, and then cadged a lift back to the castle for a reception she hadn’t been invited to. When she arrived she paused at the bottom of the steps, taking a moment to admire the Jacobean building as if she were a prospective buyer.

During the funeral service and the burial, Virginia had remained still, but once she entered the castle and the butler announced ‘The Lady Virginia Fenwick’, she never stopped moving.

‘How kind of you to take the trouble to travel up to Hertfordshire, Virginia,’ said the duke, bending down to kiss her on both cheeks. ‘I know Lavinia would have appreciated it.’

I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, she wanted to tell him, but restricted herself to, ‘Such a dear, kind lady. We’ll all miss her.’

‘How sweet of you to say so, Virginia,’ said the duke, not letting go of her hand. ‘I do hope you’ll keep in touch.’

You need have no fear about that, thought Virginia. ‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure, your grace,’ she said, giving him a slight curtsey.

‘His grace, the Duke of Westminster,’ announced the butler.

Virginia moved on into the great hall, and while the elks and boars stared down from the walls above, her eyes swept the room in search of the three people she needed to see, and the one person she hoped to avoid. She declined several offers of canapés and wine, well aware that her time was restricted and she had a job to do.

She stopped to chat to Miles Norfolk, although he was only a pit stop on her progress to the chequered flag. And then she saw him, leaning against the Adam fireplace, chatting to an elderly man she didn’t recognize. She left Miles and began to drift in his direction, and the moment the elderly gentleman turned to talk to another guest, she moved in like a laser beam on her target.

‘Clarence. You may not remember me.’

‘You are not easily forgettable, Lady Virginia,’ he ventured. ‘Father always speaks so warmly of you.’

‘How kind of him,’ gushed Virginia. ‘Are you still serving with the Blues and Royals?’

‘I am indeed, but unfortunately I’m about to be posted overseas. I’m sorry to be going abroad so soon after my mother’s death.’

‘But the duke will have the support of your sisters.’

‘Sadly not. Camilla is married to a sheep farmer in New Zealand. A hundred thousand acres, can you believe it? They’ll be returning to Christchurch in a few days’ time.’

‘That is unfortunate, and must place quite a responsibility on Alice’s shoulders.’

‘And there’s the rub. Alice has been offered a senior position with L’Oréal in New York. I know she’s thinking of turning it down, but Papa insists she shouldn’t miss such a golden opportunity.’

‘How typical of your father. But if you think it might help, Clarence, I’d be only too happy to drop in and see him from time to time.’

‘That would take a weight off my mind, Lady Virginia. But I must warn you, the old man can be quite a handful. Sometimes I think he’s nearer seven than seventy.’

‘That’s a challenge I’d relish,’ said Virginia. ‘I don’t exactly have a lot going on in my life at the moment, and I’ve always enjoyed your father’s company. Perhaps I could drop you a line from time to time and let you know how he’s getting on.’

‘How considerate, Lady Virginia. I just hope you won’t find him too much of a burden.’

‘A bloody good show you’ve put on, Clarence,’ declared a portly man who joined them. ‘You’ve done the old girl proud.’

‘Thank you, Uncle Percy,’ said Clarence, as Virginia slipped away to continue her three-pronged attack. The missile changed direction and headed towards its second target.

‘Congratulations on your new job, Alice, and I’m bound to say, I agree with your father. You shouldn’t turn down such a wonderful opportunity.’

‘How kind of you to say so,’ said Alice, not altogether sure who she was talking to. ‘But I still haven’t made up my mind whether or not to take up the offer.’

‘But why not, my dear? After all, you may never get another chance like this again.’

‘I suppose you’re right. But I’m already feeling guilty about leaving Papa to fend for himself.’

‘No need to, my dear, believe me. In any case, there will be more than enough of us to make sure he’s well occupied. So off you go, and show those Yanks what we British are made of.’

‘I know that’s what he wants,’ said Alice, ‘but I just can’t bear the idea of him being on his own so soon after dear Mama’s death.’

‘You needn’t worry yourself on that count,’ said Virginia, who was pleased to see Giles paying his respects to the duke before he left.

Virginia gave Alice a warm hug before heading off in search of her final prey. A mother, a father and three small children were not difficult to locate, but this time she wasn’t greeted with quite the same enthusiasm.

‘Hello, I’m—’ began Virginia.

‘I know exactly who you are,’ said Lady Camilla, and before Virginia could deliver her next well-prepared sentence, she turned her back on her and started chatting to an old school friend, making no attempt to include Virginia in the conversation. Virginia quickly took her leave before anyone could notice the slight. Two out of three wasn’t a bad return, especially as the one failure lived on the other side of the world. Virginia saw no purpose in hanging around any longer, so she made her way across to the duke to bid him farewell... for now.

‘I’ve had the most enjoyable time renewing my acquaintance with your delightful children,’ she said. She wondered if he knew how little she’d seen of them during the past twenty years, not least because of the late duchess’s attempts to keep them apart.

‘And I’m sure they enjoyed seeing you again,’ said the duke. ‘I hope I will too, and in the not-too-distant future,’ he added, ‘if you have nothing better to do.’

‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure. I’ll wait for you to be in touch,’ she said, as a small queue began to form behind her.

‘My family are only able to be with me for a few more days,’ whispered the duke. ‘Once they’ve all gone their separate ways, may I give you a call?’

‘I’ll look forward to that, Perry,’ a name only the late duchess and the duke’s oldest friends ever used when addressing his grace, the Duke of Hertford.

Once Camilla had seen Virginia depart, she didn’t waste any time before joining her brother.

‘Did I see you talking to that frightful woman, Virginia Fenwick?’

‘You did,’ said Clarence. ‘She seems a nice enough lady, and she promised to keep an eye on Pa while we’re all away.’

‘I’ll bet she did. If anything would stop me going back to New Zealand, it’s the thought of that woman getting her hands on Pa.’

‘But she couldn’t have been more considerate.’

‘Don’t allow that consummate actress to fool you for one moment.’

‘Why are you so set against her, Camilla, when all she wants to do is help?’

‘Because dear Mama always had a good word for everyone, and she had two for the Lady Virginia Fenwick. Scheming bitch.’

‘How long have I got?’ asked Virginia.

‘The Revenue will grant you no more than ninety days before they begin proceedings, my lady,’ replied the bank manager.

‘So how long have I got?’ repeated Virginia.

Mr Leigh turned over several pages of his diary before he responded. ‘The final day for payment, unless you wish to be saddled with extortionate interest, is December twenty-first.’

‘Thank you,’ said Virginia, before leaving the bank manager’s office without another word.

She could only wonder how long it would be before the duke got in touch, because if he didn’t call soon, she would be spending Christmas Day in Buenos Aires.

23

Virginia didn’t have to wait long before the duke called and invited her out on their first date. And that was certainly how she regarded their evening at Mosimann’s. She was coy, flattering and flirtatious, and made him feel twenty years younger, or at least that’s what he told her when he dropped her back at her flat in Chelsea, with a kiss on both cheeks. Appropriate for a first date, thought Virginia. She didn’t invite her paramour in for coffee for several reasons, not least because he couldn’t have failed to notice that there were only hooks where paintings had once hung.

The duke rang the following morning and invited Virginia out on a second date.

‘I’ve got tickets for Noises Off starring Paul Eddington, and I thought we might have supper afterwards.’

‘How sweet of you, Perry. But unfortunately I have to attend a charity gala this evening,’ she said, looking down at an empty page in her diary. ‘But I’m free on Thursday evening.’

After that, her dance card had only one name on it.

Virginia was surprised how much she enjoyed her role as the duke’s companion, confidante and friend, and quickly grew used to a style of life she had always assumed was hers by right. However, she had to accept that the taxman was still demanding his pound of flesh, 185,000 pounds of flesh to be exact, and that if she didn’t pay up, this idyllic existence would stop as abruptly as a train hitting the buffers.

She considered asking Perry for a loan to cover her tax bill, but felt it was a little too soon, and if he thought that was the only reason she’d shown any interest in him, the relationship would surely end as quickly as it had begun.

Over the next few weeks, the duke showered her with gifts of flowers, clothes, even jewellery, and although she considered returning them to some of the more fashionable establishments on Bond Street in exchange for cash, it wouldn’t have even made a dent in the taxman’s demand. In any case, it would only be a matter of time before the duke found out what she had been up to.

However, when the weather changed from a chilly November to a freezing December, Virginia began to despair, and decided that she had no choice but to tell Perry the truth, whatever the consequences.

She selected his seventieth birthday as the day of revelation, during a celebration dinner at Le Gavroche. She was well prepared, having spent most of her monthly allowance on a gift for Perry that she could ill afford. Cartier had crafted a pair of gold cufflinks, engraved with the Hertford crest. She would need to choose the right moment to present them, and then explain why she would be leaving for Buenos Aires early in the New Year.

During the meal, which consisted mostly of vintage champagne, the duke became a little maudlin and began talking about ‘crossing the finishing line’, his euphemism for death.

‘Don’t be silly, Perry,’ Virginia reprimanded him. ‘You have many years ahead of you before you need to think about anything quite so depressing, especially if I’ve got anything to do with it. And don’t forget, I promised the children I’d keep you going.’

‘And you’ve more than kept your end of the bargain, old gal. In fact, I don’t know how I would have survived without you,’ he added as he took her hand.

Virginia had become accustomed to the duke’s little signs of affection, even a hand reaching under the table and ending up on her thigh. But tonight, it remained there while the maître d’ opened another bottle of champagne. Virginia had drunk very little that evening, as she needed to be as sober as a judge when she delivered her plea in mitigation. She chose that moment to present him with his birthday present.

He slowly unwrapped it, before opening the leather box.

‘My darling Virginia, how kind of you. I’ve never had a more thoughtful present in my life.’ He leant across and kissed her gently on the lips.

‘I’m so glad you like it, Perry. Because it’s almost impossible to find something for a man who has everything.’

‘Not quite everything, my darling,’ he replied, still clutching her hand.

Virginia decided there was never going to be a better moment to tell him about her problem with the taxman.

‘Perry, there’s something I need to ask you.’

‘I know,’ he said. Virginia looked surprised. ‘You were going to ask, your place or mine?’

Virginia giggled like a schoolgirl, but didn’t lose her concentration, although she suddenly realized she should perhaps delay telling him about her imminent departure, as there might be an even better opportunity to plead her case a little later.

The duke raised his other hand, and a moment later the maître d’ appeared by his side bearing a silver tray on which there lay a single slip of paper. Virginia had become used to checking the details of every bill before allowing the duke to write out a cheque. It was not unknown for a restaurant to add an extra dish, even another bottle of wine, after a guest had consumed a little too much.

It was when she opened the bill and saw the figure £18.50, that the idea first crossed her mind. But could she risk it? She had to admit such a gift-wrapped opportunity was unlikely to present itself again. She waited for the sommelier to pour him a second glass of Taylor’s before she declared, ‘The bill’s fine, Perry. Shall I write out a cheque while you enjoy your port?’

‘Good idea, old gal,’ said the duke, taking out his cheque book and handing it to her. ‘Be sure to add a generous tip,’ he said as he drained his glass. ‘It’s been a memorable evening.’

Virginia wrote out the figure 185,000, having moved the comma and added two noughts. She dated the cheque December 3rd 1982, before placing it in front of him. He signed unsteadily, just below where Virginia’s finger covered the noughts. When he disappeared to ‘spend a penny’, another of his oft-used euphemisms, Virginia deposited the cheque in her handbag, took out her own cheque book and wrote out the correct figure. She handed it to the maître d’ just before Perry returned.

‘It’s the duke’s birthday,’ she explained, ‘so it’s my treat.’

Marco didn’t comment that she’d forgotten to add the generous tip the duke had suggested.

Once they were seated in the back of the duke’s Rolls-Royce, he immediately leant across, took Virginia in his arms and kissed her; the kiss of a man who was hoping for more.

When the car stopped outside the duke’s home in Eaton Square, the chauffeur rushed around to open the back door, giving Virginia enough time to straighten her dress while the duke buttoned up his jacket. The duke led Virginia into the house, where they found the butler waiting for them, as if it was midday, not midnight.

‘Good evening, your grace,’ he said, before taking their coats. ‘Will you require your usual brandy and cigar?’

‘Not tonight, Lomax,’ the duke replied, as he took Virginia by the hand and led her up the sweeping staircase and into a room she’d never entered before. The bedroom was about the same size as her flat, and dominated by an antique oak four-poster, adorned with the family crest Ever Vigilant.

Virginia was about to comment on the Constable hanging above the Adam fireplace, when she felt the zip on the back of her dress being clumsily pulled down. She made no attempt to stop it falling to the floor, and began to unbuckle the duke’s belt as they edged unsteadily towards the bed. She couldn’t remember when she’d last made love, and could only hope that the same was true for the duke.

He was like a schoolboy on a first date, petting and fumbling, clearly needing her to take the lead, which she was happy to do.

‘That’s the best birthday present I could have hoped for,’ he said once his heartbeat had returned to normal.

‘Me too,’ said Virginia, but he didn’t hear her, because he’d fallen asleep.

When Virginia woke the following morning, it took her a few moments to remember where she was. She began to consider the consequences of everything that had taken place the previous evening. She had already decided not to present the cheque for £185,000 until December 23rd, confident that it wouldn’t be cleared before Christmas, possibly even the New Year.

However, there was an outside chance that someone along the line would consider it their duty to alert the duke about such a large withdrawal. There was also the possibility — although it seemed unlikely to Virginia — that the cheque might bounce. If either of these catastrophes occurred, she’d be on her way to Heathrow not Castle Hertford, because it wouldn’t be HM Inspector of Taxes pursuing her but an ever-vigilant duke, and she suspected his daughter Camilla wouldn’t be far behind.

The duke had already invited Virginia to spend Christmas on his estate in Hertford. But she had only accepted when she learned that Camilla and her family wouldn’t be travelling over from New Zealand, as they felt two trips to England within a few months was an unnecessary extravagance.

Virginia had written to Clarence and Alice regularly during the past few weeks, to keep them up to date on everything their father was up to, or at least her version of it. In their replies, both of them made it clear how delighted they were that she would be joining them at Castle Hertford for Christmas. The idea that at the last moment she might have to beat a hasty retreat and spend the New Year in Buenos Aires with a distant cousin wasn’t that appealing.

When the duke finally awoke, he knew exactly where he was. He turned over, delighted to find that Virginia hadn’t already left. He took her in his arms, and spent considerably longer making love a second time. She began to feel confident that this wasn’t going to be a one-night stand.

‘Why don’t you move in with me?’ the duke suggested as Virginia straightened his tie.

‘I’m not sure that would be wise, Perry, especially if the children are staying at the castle over Christmas. Perhaps early in the New Year, once they’ve gone?’

‘Well, at least stay with me until they arrive?’

Virginia happily agreed to his request, but only ever left one change of clothes at Eaton Square, aware that she might be sent packing at a moment’s notice. The morning Clarence landed at Heathrow she reluctantly returned to her little flat in Chelsea, where she soon realized how much she missed not only her new way of life, but also Perry.