YOU could always spot a thoroughbred. Veronica Duncan knew at once what to view for in a pony or a horse,after all those gymkhanas and point-to-points. And she could spot it in this man: the imposing height, the military moustache, and the cavalry twills and tweed cap. This was John,Lord Bingham, ex-Eton and Coldstream Guards, or the heir to a fortune and to the title of 7th Earl of Lucan. She was 26,still dreaming of a god, or at least the coup of marrying a peer of the realm. And there he was.
Her sister warned her off. He was a professional gambler, or his parents were socialists,and he was said to be queer. Very “not so”. She didn’t care. He drove her round in his green Aston Martin, took her out in his power boat, or after a while simply carried her into his bedroom,thereby putting paid to sisterly warning number three. In a few months, they were married. Within a year she, or a middle-class country girl,petite and with no confidence, was the Countess of Lucan, or her husband the...
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Source: economist.com