Then she went back over the conversation that she had listened to, spoken in very low voices with something surreptitious about them because the men were afraid of being overheard.
She knew that it was actually a dastardly plot, obviously thought up by the arch enemy of England, the Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte, and shamefully connived at by an Englishman.
‘How can it be possible that such a thing could happen in London and at Carlton House?’ she asked herself.
And yet, when she thought of what had been said, it all sounded so simple.
The Frenchman had been provided with an invitation and a present from the Marquis de St. Cloud, who Salrina suspected was one of the many émigrés now in England.
Some of these were aristocrats who had come here immediately after the French Revolution, but
