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Kit frowned. ‘But why would someone be trying to destroy you? And who could gain from seeing you humiliated like that?’

Fliss sipped her water, assessing but saying nothing as the clock on the wall ticked loudly. In the darkness, the kitchen lit only by the moonlight, it felt as though it was just the two of them in their own private world. The night invited confidences. Fliss hesitated, before she voiced the name that had been slowly climbing to the top of her list. ‘Tara?’

The shock on Kit’s face was genuine. ‘What? Why would you think that?’

‘She was there that night, when the photographs were taken. Not long before you and her …’ Fliss trailed off, not wanting to spell out what had happened. ‘We were together and she wanted you. You know she did. I don’t know what the plan – if any – was by taking those photos. Maybe she was just taking photographs of everyone, didn’t mean to use them. Maybe they fell into the wrong hands. Oh, I know it doesn’t make any sense, but some of the things she’s said to me recently, the way she’s been behaving … It’s made me think.’

Kit was shaking his head. ‘I’ve been honest with you, Fliss. Things between me and Tara aren’t great, but I don’t believe she would do something like that. She’s not calculating enough. Not anymore.’

Fliss looked at him helplessly. ‘I don’t know what to believe. It feels like everything’s spinning out of control. You said it yourself, you think she’s having an affair. What’s the perfect distraction from that? To make it look as though you and I are the ones being unfaithful instead. It gets public sympathy on her side …’

‘I hadn’t thought of that …’ Kit understood where Fliss was coming from, but he didn’t quite believe it. Would Tara stoop so low, given their son was likely to see the press too?

Fliss glanced across at him, her blue eyes bright in the moonlight, her lips soft and inviting, the faint scent of her perfume drifting across the table. It was unbelievably distracting, and he needed to focus.

‘Look,’ Kit began softly, ‘I’m on your side, Fliss. Always will be. I want to help you, and I think I have an idea. A way to get you out of this. But you need to trust me. Do you trust me, Fliss?’

She looked at him, her gaze intense, as though trying to see into the very depths of his soul. ‘Once you were the person I trusted most in the whole world …’ she said.

‘Then I need you to trust me again,’ Kit answered, reaching across the table to take her hand in his.

Fliss held his gaze. ‘I will.’

Chapter 33

The preparations were well underway for the Betwixtmas Ball, and Clarendon Hall was a hive of activity. Lord Oliver was making a good recovery in hospital and was expected to be home tomorrow, so had given firm instructions that the plans should continue.

Sally had immediately swung back into action, with Tara sulkily helping out where necessary, and a vast array of suppliers were trooping in and out of the grand house, bringing everything that would be needed for the spectacular party in two days’ time. There were caterers, florists, lighting crews, a DJ booth and a sound system, not to mention the team of interior designers who had been tasked with transforming Clarendon Hall into a winter wonderland.

Jasper was filming all the comings and goings on his phone, generally getting under everyone’s feet, as his mother and father snapped at him to stay out of the way. Elizabeth had remained at the hospital, with Tara and Bill travelling back and forth to visit their father and taking anything their mother might need.

‘Do you think Neville is up to this?’ Fliss wondered quietly to Sally, as she watched a veritable convoy of workers carry in crates containing dozens of champagne flutes.

Sally raised her eyebrows. ‘He’s insistent that it should go ahead, apparently. Between you and me,’ Sally lowered her voice, ‘I think he sees it as his last hurrah. He’s not sure how long he’ll be able to throw a huge event like this, so wants this ball to be one to remember.’

‘I’m sure it will be,’ Fliss said. ‘How’s Bill coping with Neville being in hospital?’

‘It’s really thrown him. He seems very unsettled. But like I said to you before, it’s not just that, there’s something else going on, I’m sure of it. What with Christmas and the ball, I haven’t had a chance to talk to him. What about you? How are you feeling about today?’

‘Nervous, but I think it’s the right thing.’

‘Well you look incredible. I’m sure you’ll be wonderful and I think you’re very brave,’ Sally said, leaning across to give her arm a squeeze. ‘Although personally I think everyone’s making a big fuss over nothing. Who cares what you did twenty years ago?’

‘Thanks, darling,’ Fliss smiled, smoothing down her skirt. She was dressed in a dark blue suit with a cream silk blouse, her make-up subtle but enhancing her features. She hoped that it conveyed the right look – humble, contrite, but not a pushover. Someone who had made a mistake in her past but had come out stronger, come out fighting. A woman with nothing to be ashamed of.

The doorbell rang. ‘Here they are!’ Fliss exclaimed, her stomach doing loops as though she was riding a rollercoaster.

‘I’ll answer it,’ Sally told her firmly. ‘You go and wait in the drawing room.’

Fliss shot her a grateful look before crossing the grand hall and heading along the corridor, low heels clacking on the tiled floor, her heart racing. She took a few deep breaths, telling herself that if she could handle live television in front of an audience of millions, she could handle one interview.

It had been Kit’s suggestion, and it had made perfect sense when he had suggested it in the middle of the night. When Fliss woke that morning, she wasn’t so sure, but Kit was persuasive. Better to be upfront and do a ‘tell all’ interview, confessing what had happened in her youth, finally banishing the power those photos held over her.

It was a huge risk – any public backlash could still mean that Fliss would effectively be cancelled, that the network would officially fire her and her career as she knew it would be over. But spending time in the Cotswolds had made Fliss see that there could be a different future for her, that stepping back from work and taking a new direction didn’t have to be a disaster. She didn’t want to live the rest of her life in fear of what could happen, terrified by the threat of an impending scandal hanging over her. By putting the truth out there, she diminished its power.

The last twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind, involving a scramble of calls to her agent and the network, getting the relevant permissions and agreeing the narrative. Thankfully, they were all supportive. Kit had a friend named Christina Mackenzie, a journalist who had been a follower and supporter of his over the years, so Fliss had agreed to do an interview with her. Then Fliss had called Elizabeth, who had kindly agreed that the meeting could take place at Clarendon Hall – Fliss had explained the allegations that were being levelled at her, and Elizabeth had been her usual understanding, non-judgemental self.

Fliss had spent the morning anxiously rehearsing her responses, making sure to include everything she wanted to say. She just hoped she was doing the right thing.