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living because his job selling bonds in the City gave him no pleasure at
all. Without Boysie life would have little point.
    ‘My dear fellow, are you going to lie in bed all day?’ asked Boysie, wandering into the room from the bathroom. He had put on his underwear and was buttoning up his shirt. His brown
hair fell over his forehead in a thick, dishevelled fringe, and his petulant lips curled at the corners with amusement.
    Harry groaned. ‘I’m not going in to work today. I find the whole thing a terrific bore. I can’t stand it. Besides, I don’t want the morning to end.’
    ‘Oh,
I
do,’ said Boysie, tracing with his eyes the large pink scar on Harry’s shoulder where he had been shot in the war. ‘I have lunch at Claridge’s with
Mama and Aunt Emily, then I shall mosey on down to White’s and see who I bump into. Tonight I might pop into your delightful Cousin Beatrice’s “at home”. Last Tuesday her
Salon was rather racy with the entire cast of
No, No, Nanette.
All those chorus girls squawking like pretty parrots. It was a “riot”, as Celia would say. I dare say your Cousin
Digby gets a leg over here and there, don’t you think?’
    ‘I don’t doubt he has a mistress in every corner of London but one can’t criticize his devotion as a husband.’ Harry sighed with frustration and sat up. ‘I wish I
could join you and your mama, but I promised Charlotte I’d take her for lunch at the Ritz. It’s her birthday.’
    ‘You could always bring her to Claridge’s and we could make eyes at each other across the room, perhaps sneak a private moment in the men’s room. Nothing beats the thrill of
deception.’
    Harry grinned, his morale restored. ‘You’re wicked, Boysie.’
    ‘But that’s why you love me.’ He bent down and kissed him. ‘You’re much too pretty for your own good.’
    ‘I’ll see you tonight at Cousin Beatrice’s then.’
    Boysie sighed and his heavy eyes settled on Harry’s face. ‘Do you remember the first time I kissed you? That night at Beatrice’s?’
    ‘I’ll never forget it,’ said Harry seriously.
    ‘Neither will I.’ He bent down and kissed him again. ‘Until tonight, old boy.’
    Harry walked home through St James’s Park. The light was dull, the bright summer sun having packed up and gone to shine on a more southern shore. Clouds gathered damp and grey and the wind
caught the browning leaves and sent them floating to the ground. He pulled his hat firmly onto his head and put his hands in his trouser pockets. Soon it would drizzle and he hadn’t bothered
to bring a coat. It hadn’t looked like rain when he had set out that morning.
    When he reached his house in Belgravia Charlotte was waiting for him in the hall. She looked agitated. Guiltily, he panicked that he might have been found out but when he stepped inside she
looked so delighted to see him he realized to his relief that he was still above suspicion.
    ‘Thank goodness you’re home, darling! I telephoned the office but they said you weren’t coming in.’
    Harry averted his gaze nervously, waiting for her to ask him where he had been. But as he gave his hat to the butler she grabbed his arm. ‘I’ve got some news,’ she blurted.
    ‘Really? Don’t keep me in suspense.’
    ‘It’s about the castle. I know who’s bought it.’
    ‘You do?’ Harry followed her into the sitting room.
    ‘You won’t believe it.’
    ‘Well, go on!’
    ‘Celia!’
    Harry stared at her. ‘You’re joking.’
    ‘No, I’m deadly serious. Your cousin Celia has bought it.’
    ‘Good Lord. Who told you?’
    ‘Your father telephoned about an hour ago. I didn’t know where to reach you. I’ve been desperate to tell you. You’re not angry, are you? You know I adore you with or
without a castle and anyway, I wouldn’t want to live in Ireland.’
    ‘My darling Charlotte, I’m not angry. I’m just rather surprised she didn’t tell me herself.’
    ‘I’m sure she meant to. Bertie said she’d