CHAPTER EIGHTSir Andrew was standing in the great ballroom of Montdeaves Palace, a glass of champagne untouched in his hand, surveying the glittering crowd before him.
The parquet floor gleamed in the light thrown down by four vast crystal chandeliers.
More crystal lights adorned the walls between the fabulous paintings in their gilt frames.
A gallery at the far end of the ballroom was home to a large orchestra, the players resplendent in scarlet and blue uniforms, playing all the latest music for the dancing couples who circled beneath them.
And everywhere he looked, he saw the sparkle of diamonds and jewels and the brilliant flashing of medals and decorations.
The elegance of all the ladies’ dresses stood out against the black and white of the men’s evening attire.
Sir Andrew’s gaz
