*
She sank onto a sofa, hands to her face.
“I see that you understand, madam.”
Elvira’s voice trembled as she spoke,
“If you are the Prince,” she asked, “then who is – who is the other?”
She meant of course the man who had posed as the Prince – the man who had fooled her and everyone else.
Including Delphine.
At the thought of her cousin, all blood drained from her cheeks. Raising her head from her hands, she stared in anguish at Serge.
“For the love of Heaven,” she whispered, “who has Delphine eloped with?”
The Prince – the real Prince – gave a deep sigh.
Elvira watched him with a mixture of loathing and awe. He looked so very distinguished, so authoritative, standing there before her. But he had tricked her and tricked her, though for what reason she could not fathom.
He was i
