It was really because since her mother’s illness, she had had so little chance of being dressed up or of talking to men who were friends and not employees.
It was then, as the Viscount handed her a glass of champagne, that the door opened and Bates announced in a stentorian voice,
“Lady Swanson, my Lord.”
Sheila turned round and saw coming in through the door someone she had read about in the Court columns of the newspapers.
She was aware that she was one of the beauties who always appeared in the ladies’ magazines.
She was indeed exceedingly beautiful in an almost provocative way and she was wearing a gown that matched the emeralds around her neck.
The feathers that fluttered at her hips were echoed by the same feathers ornamenting her dark hair.
She was certainly striking.
As the
