"You surprise me," said Violet.

I sat in the Dower House, with Spratt taking the tea things, and we were left with the cut sandwiches untouched.

"I did - do not love him," I told her, fiddling with the lace in my lap. "And I will not suffer being merely a wife, so a man might trumpet both his and my inherited position."

"My dear, there is more to a marriage than that."

"Not with him," I told Violet, and glanced away. She missed nothing, but I would venture none of it.

"Then?"

I glanced forward, but not to her.

"Papa has invited Mr Napier, and his Turkish attache Mr Pamuk."

I shifted slightly on the chair, and Violet nodded.

"Go on."

I smiled slightly.

"Well, I don't intend to make it easy. Of course, it relies upon more than an evening together. It should suppose that if it is our life, he must bring to the table what - what I hope. Else I see no suitable candidate."

"Oh, my dear… " spoke Violet witheringly.