TABLE OF CONTENTS

       COVER

       TITLE PAGE

       ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       ENDPAGE

       COPYRIGHT

       CHAPTER ONE

      ‘ARE you going to marry him?’ said Jenny, straight to the point as usual.

      ‘I don’t know.’ Lissa Fairfax lifted the brooch from its satin bed in the worn velvet box, with a troubled frown. The late afternoon sun was pouring in through the big window of the living room of their small flat and catching the gleaming stones, as she turned the brooch in her hand, and the sparkling facets gleamed like living fire.

      She sighed a little. ‘One thing is certain. This will have to go back.’

      ‘I don’t see why,’ argued Jenny. ‘Paul has given you masses of presents. You’ve never thought twice about accepting any of them before.’

      ‘But this is different.’ Lissa examined the brooch, her frown deepening. ‘This is valuable—I’m sure it is. Look at the colour of the gold, and the way the clasp is made. It looks very old.’

      ‘Perhaps he’s showering you with the family heirlooms,’ said Jenny. ‘Still, it makes a nice change from flowers and perfume, and those gorgeous chocolates that we didn’t dare eat because of that diet thing we were on. Oh—and that super lighter. I’d forgotten that.’

      ‘I hadn’t.’ Lissa put the brooch back in the case. ‘That was too expensive as well. It’s all too much, too soon, Jen. After all, I’ve only known him six weeks.’

      ‘Some people would say that was long enough.’

      ‘Well, I wouldn’t.’ Lissa’s tone was definite. ‘I want to know someone far better than that before spending the rest of my life with them. I don’t like being rushed into things.’

      Jenny sighed elaborately. ‘The most attractive Frenchman I’ve ever seen, young and wealthy—yes, he is, Lissa—no one could have his sort of clothes or car unless they were loaded, and he wants to marry you. And instead of falling into his arms, you say …’

      ‘I’ll think it over.’ Lissa smiled at her flatmate affectionately. They had been together ever since she had come to London, sharing this upstairs flatlet of sitting room, tiny bedroom with enough space for two beds and a Victorian-style wardrobe, with a kitchenette and tiny bathroom. ‘I mean to think it over very seriously. After all, you knew Roger for ages before you even thought of settling down. I can’t just grab Paul and let everything go by the board. After all, what do I really know about him—about his family or his background?’

      ‘Hasn’t he ever mentioned anyone?’

      ‘He’s spoken of his mother a few times—and he’s made odd references to a brother. I got the impression there might be a spot of friction there. He didn’t say so, of course.’

      ‘Your womanly intuition told you so.’ Jenny turned back to the neglected ironing board and began to pay minute attention to the cuffs of a white silk blouse. ‘Honestly, love, he’s the catch of the year, and he’s just waiting to drop into your hands. And you get on so well together. You can’t deny that.’

      ‘Oh, yes, he’s wonderful to go out with—charming, attentive, amusing—everything anyone could wish, but——’ Lissa paused.

      Jenny raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘The girl wants jam on it. Okay, but what?’

      ‘But I can’t see him married and settling down to a routine just yet. Take that job of his at the Embassy. He doesn’t care about it at all,’

      ‘Well, if he’s as wealthy as he seems to be, there’s no real need for him to worry.’

      ‘No, but if you have a job, you should do it, not just play at it.’ Lissa stared down at the brooch. ‘And now this. I wish I knew where he’d got it from.’

      ‘You surely don’t think he nicked it?’ Jenny was horrified.

      Lissa laughed. ‘Of course not. But it’s so uncharacteristic of Paul. He’s such a present-day person, and this has definitely an air of days gone by.’

      ‘Show it to Maggie,’ Jenny suggested. ‘After all, what’s the good of being a secretary to a historical novelist if you can’t pick her brains occasionally?’

      ‘She might know, I suppose,’ Lissa said slowly. ‘I still think the best thing is to give it back to Paul when I see him tonight.’

      ‘Do you think tonight he’ll want a definite answer?’ Jenny asked.

      ‘I doubt it,’ said Lissa. ‘We’re going to a party, one of those formal things at the Embassy, I think. Still, it will give me a chance to wear my new chiffon.’

      ‘It would also give you a chance to wear the brooch,’ Jenny said, grinning.

      Lissa shook her head decisively. ‘No. I’m just going to give it back to him and explain that I can’t accept expensive presents like this when I’ve only known him such a short time.’

      ‘Even though he wants to marry you?’ Jenny asked.

      ‘Particularly because of that. You know what they say about marrying in haste,’ said Lissa. ‘After all, think how many years you’ve known Roger, and you went out with him for at least a year before he even suggested an engagement.’

      Jenny laughed. ‘But Roger, bless him, isn’t a glamorous young Frenchman who wanted to sweep me off my feet.’

      ‘I don’t think I want to be swept either,’ Lissa said reflectively, ‘and if I do, I’m not sure this is the way I would want it done. The fact is I don’t know what I do want. I’ve never felt so unsure.’

      ‘I’d say it was spring fever, only spring’s over now really,’ said Jenny. She picked up the brooch again, and examined it minutely. ‘I suppose the stones must be zircons. They’re certainly big ones.’

      ‘They couldn’t