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stood out.
    Her thick glossy hair was so dark it had blue lights in it and her brilliant green eyes made most English women look insipid.
    Her skin was white as marble.
    Every word she spoke and every movement of her hands and body were provocative.
    She was undoubtedly a major challenge and a challenge was something the Marquis had always found hard to resist.
    Last night at Marlborough House he had known as he looked at her across the dining room table that she was sending him a message with her eyes.
    There was dancing after dinner and he deliberately waited until he had danced with the Prince of Wales’s wife, Princess Alexandra, and one or two other beautiful ladies before he approached the Contessa.
    By that time it was getting late and she told him in a low voice that her husband wished to leave.
    â€œTomorrow he has to attend an appointment outside London,” she whispered, “and I thought perhaps, my Lord, that you would like to take tea with me at four o’clock. We are staying at The Langham .”
    â€œI never drink tea,” replied the Marquis.
    â€œNor do I,” the Contessa answered coquettishly.
    She looked up at him laughing and then she said,
    â€œI will offer you something very different.”
    â€œSomething new, Contessa? I think that is rather unlikely.”
    Her green eyes seemed to almost gleam at him as a tigress’s might have done.
    Then she replied,
    â€œI promise you will find something very different in room 200!”
    He felt it was impossible to refuse this fascinating invitation so he nodded,
    â€œVery well, Excelentisima Señora , I will be there.”
    He deliberately used the Spanish manner in which she was usually addressed by her inferiors and because she understood that he was teasing her, she merely laughed.
    â€œYour Lordship is too kind and it would be such a pity for you to be disappointed.”
    â€œA great pity,” agreed the Marquis.
    He turned away from her just as the Conté, who had been talking to the Prince of Wales, came to her side.
    He was a dark man, a little taller than most Spaniards and good-looking in his own way, but he had a kind of ferociousness about him that made people feel he was more like a savage animal.
    One that could easily get out of control.
    Bowing curtly the Conté greeted the Marquis and moved to lead his wife away.
    Although there was no fault in his manners, the Marquis thought the suspicious way the Conté looked at him was almost insulting.
    In return the Marquis merely bowed formally to the Contessa, gave her husband a brief nod and walked away.
    *
    The following morning the Marquis remembered that he had promised to visit the Contessa.
    He thought that if he was sensible it was something he should not do, but equally she had challenged him and it was against his nature not to accept a challenge.
    The Marquis was naturally astute enough to check that as she had said, the Conté was actually going to the country. The last thing he needed was to bump into the brooding Spaniard again.
    Not wishing to ignite gossip about himself and the Contessa, he casually dropped in to see a friend who he knew was trying to interest the Conté in a new machinery development that could be of great advantage to the Spaniards.
    Upon discovering that the Conté had already left London, the Marquis sent a hasty message to the Contessa accepting her kind invitation and drove to where he was having luncheon.
    This was with an extremely attractive lady who had held his attention for nearly three months.
    He had, however, admitted to himself several nights ago that, as far as he was concerned, their affaire-de-coeur had come to an end.
    As usual he had become bored, but sadly the object of his affection was even more eager to keep him at her side than she had been in the first place.
    The breaking off period was always unpleasant, but because she had arranged this luncheon party especially for him, the Marquis had