The light was dim in their corner, with two small wall lamps and two candles in glass bowls on the table, making shadows dance and flicker. Even so she managed to study his face and had to give him ten out of ten for looks. His dinner jacket was impeccable, and his white, embroidered evening shirt made a background for his lightly tanned skin. He was a handsome man. She conceded that. His lips, perhaps, were slightly on the thin side, but in a way that emphasised his infrequent smiles, giving them a quirky irony that pleased her.

His eyes drew her attention, being very dark brown, almost black. She would have called them beautiful if the rest of his face hadn’t been so unmistakably masculine. They were deep set and slightly shadowed by a high forehead and heavy eyebrows. That gave his face a hint of mystery, because she couldn’t always see whether his eyes had the same expression as his mouth. And she suspected that they often didn’t.

So far, so intriguing. It was lucky Olympia had warned her what was afoot, or she might have been completely taken in; might actually have found him seriously attractive. As it was, she held the advantage. She decided to disconcert him a little, just for fun.

‘What brings you to London?’ she asked innocently. ‘Business?’

If the question threw him he gave no sign of it. ‘A little. And I must pay my respects to Lady Dulcie Maddox, who became engaged to my cousin Guido a few weeks ago.’

Harriet savoured the name. ‘Lord Maddox’s daughter?’

‘Yes, do you know her?’

‘She’s been in the shop a couple of times.’

‘Buying or selling?’

‘Selling.’ Harriet fell silent, sensing a minefield.

‘Probably pieces from the Maddox ancestral home, to pay her father’s debts,’ Marco supplied. ‘I gather he’s a notorious gambler.’

‘Yes,’ she said, relaxing. ‘I didn’t want to tell tales if you didn’t know.’

‘It’s common knowledge. Dulcie has to earn her living, and she was working as a private enquiry agent when she came to Venice and met Guido. What did you think of her?’