Daisy smiled.
She was always delighted when the Duke treated her as if she was the hostess at Mere, which was most definitely what she wanted to be.
‘He is mine,’ she thought to herself, ‘and the sooner everybody realises that I can prevent them from being invited here if I wish to the better!’
It was a pretence that she knew had no substance in fact, but Daisy could always believe what she wanted to believe.
As she settled everybody into their places at the baccarat table, she did so in a manner that made it quite obvious that she was running the show her way and was the only one who counted.
Three of the guests wanted to play bridge and the Duke had just found them a fourth player when he noticed that Kelvin Fane was not at the baccarat table as he had expected but was walking throu
