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Oh, nothing much. Discovering love was not all it was cracked up to be and did not mean happy and definitely not clappy. Basically, a big six feet four something.

‘I have a bit of a…not headache exactly…more…muzzy.’

‘A night’s rest in your own bed and you will feel much more the thing, Princess,’ he said briskly.

Her own bed was a long way away. She felt a sudden desperate longing for her home, leaking roof and all things familiar, mostly the safety afforded by the protective love of her sister and her parents.

The doctor rose. She didn’t even try to tune into their conversation, rousing herself only to murmur politely, if vaguely, ‘Thank you so much.’

As the doctor left, a nurse walked in.

‘What,’ Elsie, jolted from her internal misery, asked in a dangerous voice, ‘is that?’

‘Maybe we should call back the doc if you don’t recognise a wheelchair.’

Elsie didn’t react to the snarky comment.

She actually wanted to avoid any conversation, frightened that in her weakened state she might say more than she wanted to and make a total fool of herself. She maintained her silence until they were in the car, which turned out to be some sort of low-slung designer creation.

‘You’re driving?’

‘Do you have a problem with that?’

She looked at his long fingers on the steering wheel—actually, she looked anywhere but at his face.

‘Are you sure you feel well enough to leave?’

‘I hate hospitals, that’s all.’ Aware of the speculation in his stare, she shook her head. ‘I just assumed you’d send someone to pick me up. You couldn’t have got much sleep last night.’

He laughed then, the sound discordant, but that might be her muzzy head. ‘You could say that.’

‘I was thinking about…it must have been nut contamination and I know… Do you think it might have been the goody bag?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh, how did that happen?’

‘It was a joke, apparently.’

‘A joke… You have got to be kidding me!’ she gasped in disbelief. ‘It could have killed me…’ She stopped. ‘You know who did this?’

‘Count Tomaz has of this morning resigned his position on the Council, and has decided he needs quite urgently to spend more time with his family. He is also, it seems, moving to his country estate.’

‘He tried to kill me?’ The idea of that much malice aimed at her made her shiver.

‘He claims not, and I suspect, though truth is an alien concept for him, on this occasion he might be telling the truth. It was opportunistic spite—he wanted to get to me through you. The point is, you will never see him again.’

‘What if he changes his mind?’

‘That is…extremely unlikely, querida.’

‘But what about…?’

He turned his head and flashed a look at her pale face, the momentary impatience in him immediately fading. Her vulnerability felt as if someone had reached into his chest and squeezed.

‘This is a conversation for another day. You are safe.’ He half expected her to point out that he had said that before and look how well it had turned out. The idea of her being hurt cut him like a blade. How could he be the one to do it?

‘Thank you, Leandro,’ she said softly.