“You forget that Dipa is the eldest son,” Carina pointed out.
She saw the Dowager’s face darken and the knuckles beneath the glittering rings went white as she clenched her hands.
“The eldest son!” she repeated. “The child of a trollop!”
“He is also a Lynche,” Carina said.
“I will not acknowledge him, I will not!” the Dowager exclaimed. “Something must be done. You took the law into your hands, why should I not take the law into mine?”
Her fingers went out towards the pistol lying on the ermine bedspread.
But Carina was quicker. Before the Dowager could grasp it, she bent forward and clutched it in her hand.
“No, no!” she cried. “There shall be no more killing. And you know as well as I do that you could not really harm an innocent child. You have to accept him. He is here – he is t
