There were those who said Sophie de Lacy had been born with a silver spoon in her mouth and although the spoon may have been of silver it was a little tarnished, even before she was born and anyone on first meeting the de Lacy family en masse would have found her a little odd: because neither her parents, nor her grandmother, nor her older brother Rupert, had blonde hair, sapphire blue eyes and skin that had the same golden glow, whatever the season. But Sophie had known ever since memory began that the man she called daddy was not her real father - he had been killed in a war that was almost over before she was born. In her child's mind he was a shadowy figure; one who seldom entered her conscious thoughts and she was well into her teenage years before a casually overheard conversation and an old photograph album aroused her curiosity and began to furnish him with form and substance...