wasn’t saying a word, just standing there staring at him in that damnably unnerving way she had.
‘We both knew that it had to end, and all the more reason now that you and Lord Fitton Legh are to have another child.’
‘No! This child is not my husband’s.’
‘For God’s sake,’ Greg protested anxiously, ‘what’s the matter with you, Caroline? You know the child has to be your husband’s. There can’t be any choice. Think of the social disgrace. He would divorce you, and—’
‘And then you’d have to marry me.’ She gave a dismissive shrug. ‘Divorce isn’t so very bad. My father got divorced from my mother so that he could marry his lover.’
‘That may be all very well in America,’ Greg told her, ‘but it’s different here.’ His belly was churning sickly. ‘You don’t really think that my grandmother would countenance me marrying you, do you?’
It was the wrong thing for him to have said, Greg realised too late. She almost flew at him, clawing at his face, her own contorted with rage.
‘Your grandmother! Do you think that I don’t know now that you’re just hiding behind her? Do you think that I haven’t been told about that girl in Macclesfield you’ve been seeing? How could you, Greg? A common little nobody whose father makes his money from pork sausages. But then I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, given your own lack of breeding.’
Her insult stung Greg.
‘You can say what you like,’ he told her. ‘Maisie’s a hell of a lot more fun than you are, and as for breeding, the only breeding you can lay claim to is the kind you get from what’s in your belly.’
He heard the crash of the mirror she had picked up off her dressing table hitting the door behind him as he escaped into the corridor.
‘Lady Rutland wants to see you in her sitting room, miss.’
Amber’s heart sank. Not again. What had she done now?
‘Thank you, Alice.’ She dismissed the maid, ignoring the look Louise was giving her.
This time Lady Rutland wasn’t alone. Two other people were with her, one of whom, a young woman wearing a startling large and ornate hat, Amber thought was puzzlingly familiar in some way. The other, an elderly man hunched over a walking stick, was wearing a black donnish-looking gown over a very hairy tweed suit.
‘Ah, Amber,’ Lady Rutland greeted her. ‘You are fortunate in that your grandmother seems tireless in her efforts on your behalf. Professor Roberts here informs me that Mrs Pickford has instructed him to give you lessons on the history of London’s famous buildings. I have to say that I would have thought that Mrs Pickford might have informed me of this decision, but I dare say she has other and more important things on her mind. Personally, I cannot see what advantage it might be to a débutante to study history but then I dare say that is because when one’s ancestors have played such a predominant role in the history of one’s country there is simply no need. History is one’s family.’
There was an odd choking sound from the professor, and as Amber looked at him anxiously he lifted his head and looked straight at her, giving her a big wink unseen by Lady Rutland.
Lord Robert! What on earth were Lord Robert, and yes, she could see it now, Cecil Beaton’s assistant, Saville, doing here, and dressed up in such a way?
‘Quite so, my dear Lady Rutland,’ the professor was agreeing in a quavery voice. ‘Let me see, it was Sebastopol where your grandfather fell, I believe, and his cousin the marquis was with the Light Brigade, as I recollect. A most distinguished military history, although my own expertise lies more in the field of political history. I seem to think that there was a record somewhere of an argument between one of your ancestors and William Pitt the Younger, would you know anything of that?’
When Lady Rutland, lost for words for once, simply shook her head, Lord Robert sighed and said, ‘Pity …’ before turning to Amber and asking, ‘This is the child, then?’
‘Yes,’ Lady Rutland confirmed.
‘Well, I hope she proves to be a good student although my experience is that young girls have a tendency to foolishness and an overfondness of things of little importance. We shall start her lessons with a walking tour, if possible immediately.’
‘Well, yes, of course, Professor.’ Lady Rutland was all compliance.
Amber badly wanted to laugh.
‘Well, child, you heard Lady Rutland. Go and get your outdoor things. You will see, Lady Rutland, that I have taken the liberty of providing Miss Vrontsky with a chaperone? I shall not introduce you. It would not be worth your while. She knows nothing of the history of the great families of our country.’
‘What’s going on?’ Louise demanded when Amber raced upstairs to get her outdoor clothes. ‘What did Mummy want? Why are you putting your coat on, Amber? Amber, answer me,’ she demanded, but Amber merely shook her head and almost danced back down the stairs and into the hallway, where ‘the professor’ and ‘her chaperone’ were waiting.
‘I couldn’t believe it when I realised it was you, Lord Robert,’ Amber laughed once they were outside and out of view of the house.
‘And I can’t believe that I have to wear this beastly hat,’ Saville complained.
‘You said that you had always fancied the stage, Saville,’ Lord Robert told him cheerfully. ‘You should be grateful to me for giving you the opportunity to have an off-stage run. Besides, you would not have had to wear the hat if you were not sporting half a day’s growth of beard.’
Whilst Saville retreated into a sulky silence, Lord Robert told Amber, ‘It is Cecil you have to thank – oh, and Diana, she was party to it as well, when Cecil decided that you should be his protégée. Saville and I are simply the instruments by which his plan is to be conducted. Sadly, I’m afraid that Saville is on loan to us only for today, Cecil has refused to be without an assistant for any longer. But no matter, I am sure we shall do very well just the two of us, unless of course you wish me to find another chaperone for you?’
His smile was still teasing but Amber’s heart had started to flutter with a delicious heady excitement that was both unknown to her and yet at the same time something she immediately recognised. Was Lord Robert actually flirting with her? Amber rather thought that he might be.
‘It was clever of you to remember all about Lady Rutland’s ancestors. She was very impressed.’
Saville gave a snort of derision.
‘Now, Amber, let us get down to business,’ Lord Robert told her, ignoring Saville. ‘Cecil has given me instructions that you are to become knowledgeable in a wide variety of matters of fashion. He has made arrangements for us to visit the offices of Vogue magazine; although I suspect that will be more of a penance than a pleasure, knowing Cecil. I am to take you to shops and educate you as to architecture and design, and Cecil has told me to tell you that he will be setting you tests to ensure that you are studying diligently.’
Amber was overwhelmed. ‘He is too kind. Why should he go to so much trouble on my account?’
Lord Robert looked down at her. There was no point in explaining that Cecil Beaton was part of
