The Duke of Mortlyn woke with a dry throat and a headache.
It infuriated him as he knew that last night, at Lady Bramwell’s party, the champagne and the claret had not been wines that he would have chosen for himself.
It annoyed him still more to know that Lord Bramwell, who was a rich man, was mean when it came to hospitality.
Nor did Lady Bramwell have the intelligence, although what woman had? – to choose good wines.
The dinner party had been boring, but then Doreen Bramwell had whispered that she had something important to talk to him about after the other guests had left.
The Duke was too experienced not to know what this meant and he had debated with himself whether he should go or stay.
He was well aware that Lady Bramwell had been chasing him for some time.
Finally since she
