'Infidelity is a heinous offence in my eyes.'

'You did not think so when you were married to your first wife.'

'She would never have betrayed me,' he asserted.

'No more would I,' said Berenice at her most poised. 'When I took the solemn vows of marriage, I swore to abide by them. It is a pity that you did not do the same.'

'We are not talking about me, Berenice. This concerns you and a secret visitor who entered the house this evening.' He took her by the shoulders. 'Tell me the truth, woman — did you or did you not receive a guest in this room?'

'No,' she replied calmly.

'You're lying!'

'Leave go of me, Armand.'

'I can see it in your eyes.'

'Let go of me!'

Pushing his hands away, she stepped back and gazed defiantly at him. Until that moment, she had not realised how much she loved Daniel Rawson. To save him, she would be ready to lie and prevaricate until her tongue turned black. Her husband could see that he was wasting his time. Doffing his hat, he removed his cloak and tossed it over his arm. He shrugged his shoulders apologetically.

'Excuse me, Berenice,' he said with an appeasing smile. 'I think that I was misinformed. My behaviour was boorish.'

'It was unforgivable, Armand.'

'I will inflict myself on you no longer.'

'Thank you.'

Swinging on his heel, he went out of the room. Berenice closed the door gratefully, turned the key in the lock then put her back against the timber and emitted a sigh of relief. They had survived. Daniel had escaped and she had withstood her interrogation without a tremor. She and her lover would meet elsewhere next time.

Her sense of triumph was premature. Armand Salignac was a resolute man. Having failed to wrest a confession out of her, he sought the truth from another source. Discarding his hat and cloak, he went downstairs to the steward's quarters. Celestine, his wife's pretty maid, was cowering in a corner as she was being questioned by Gaston, the steward, a tall, thin, sharp-featured man of middle years.