CHAPTER SEVENAt the ball that evening Flavia received her third proposal of marriage.
It was her own fault that the man reached such a climax, as she was not attending to what he was saying.
She was thinking of Windsor Castle and the Earl.
Then, as they danced out of the ballroom and into a quiet conservatory, the gentleman who still had an arm round her waist, piped up,
“Promise you will marry me, Flavia. I want you more than I have ever wanted anyone before. I know I will make you happy.”
It was difficult for Flavia to explain to him that she had no wish to marry anyone – not until she loved a man beyond peradventure and she did not love him.
“I will make you love me,” he persisted.
Flavia shook her head.
“Love does not happen like this. You have to love a person instinctively
