missing, James. It was an unfortunate incident, but no harm has been done and I would as lief forget the whole thing…’
‘By that, I suppose, you mean I am not to mention it to the Duchess.’
‘No, nor Papa. They both have too much to concern them at the moment without having to worry about me.’
He came towards her and, stopping in front of her, took both her hands in his own. ‘I will not say a word, my dear, but only if you promise not to go out alone until this business with the Queen is over.’
She looked down at their hands clasped together and wondered at how small her hands were in his and yet how tenderly he held them safe, just as he would always hold her safe from harm. He was a dear, dear man and she was lucky to be so protected. ‘And when do you suppose that will be?’
‘I don’t know. Until she tires of it, I suppose. Or she is divorced. Whichever it is, I hope it will be soon, for I am heartily sick of the way the population forgets her transgressions and hails her almost as a saviour of the country.’
‘And you are a cynic, James. But I promise not to go out without an adequate escort in future.’ She smiled and reached up to kiss his cheek. ‘There, will that do?’
He smiled ruefully, rubbing the spot her lips had touched. ‘It will have to. Now, unless you intend going out again today, I will take my leave of you.’
‘No, I shall stay in. I am going to read A Midsummer Night’s Dream right through and see if I can cast the main characters; by then Mama will be home. We are going to the play at Drury Lane tonight. You may join us in Papa’s box, if you wish.’
‘No, thank you. I have other fish to fry.’
‘Oh, and am I permitted to know her name?’
‘It is not a lady, it is business which cannot wait.’
‘Very well. But can you be here tomorrow afternoon? I want to give everyone their parts.’
‘I thought there were to be no rehearsals until after Lady Graham’s ball.’
‘It isn’t a rehearsal, simply a preliminary meeting, so that people know who they are to be and can begin to learn their words.’
‘I will be at your service,’ he said, describing a flourish with his right hand while bowing from the waist, making her laugh. ‘“By all the vows that ever men have broke/In number more than ever woman spoke/In that same place thou hast appointed me?/Tomorrow truly will I meet with thee.”’
She laughed. ‘I did not know you were so familiar with the play, James, but those are Hermia’s lines.’
‘I once took the part when I was at school. There were no ladies and the boys had to take the female parts too.’
‘Which they did in Shakespeare’s day, but I cannot imagine you as a woman, James.’
‘No? I was young and slim then. A few petticoats and a wig and the transformation was effected. But I sincerely hope you had no such plans for me now. I am grown tall and broad-shouldered and have hairs on my chin. Besides, I can no longer speak in a falsetto voice.’ He attempted it as he spoke, making her laugh.
‘No, I will not embarrass you, James. You will come, won’t you?’
‘Of course,’ he said, bowing over her hand. ‘Until tomorrow.’
After he had gone, she sat on a sofa for a little while, thinking about him, the conversations they had had, things he had said, the offhand manner with which she treated him and the way he took it all in good humour. She pondered on the strange feeling of restlessness which assailed her when he was near, making her want to shout, to laugh, to pace about, even to quarrel with him. She had not been aware of it before but perhaps it signalled that she was now a woman and ought to be wary of too much familiarity with a man, even one she knew and trusted.
She stood up abruptly and hurried to the ballroom to begin on a new piece of scenery, telling herself she was being fanciful. She was still there when Frances returned.
‘Vinny, there you are. I have been looking for you.’
‘Sorry, Mama, I did not hear you come in.’ She stood back, paintbrush in hand. ‘What do you think of it?’
‘Very good. But you know, I begin to wonder if it is such a good idea. By all accounts, the bother over the Queen and the coronation has yet to be settled and no one can think or talk of anything else. I am quite worn out with it all and as for your papa…’
‘I know, Mama, but it will be resolved soon, surely?’
Frances sighed. ‘Let us hope so.’
They were interrupted by the butler who came to inform them that Lord Wincote was in the hall, enquiring if her Grace was at home.
‘What, again?’ the Duchess murmured, then, aloud, ‘Very well, John, show him into the drawing room. I will be there directly.’ She turned to Lavinia. ‘No doubt when he asked for me, he really meant you, my dear, so go and ask Daisy to put your hair up and come and join us.’
When Lavinia returned to the drawing room, she found Frances and Edmund ensconced over the tea cups. He sprang to his feet when she entered and sketched her a bow. ‘Lady Lavinia, your servant.’
‘Good afternoon, Lord Wincote. How do you do?’
‘Very well, my lady, and you?’
‘Excellently, my lord.’ She suppressed the urge to smile at this coded repartee as she sat down beside Frances and indicated, with a wave of her hand, that he should return to his seat. ‘To what do we owe the pleasure today?’
‘I have acquired a light carriage and pair, my lady, and came to beg the favour of your company on a short ride. With her Grace’s permission, of course.’ He turned to Frances. ‘Perhaps you might care to accompany us.’
The suggestion put the Duchess in a fix, as he well knew. Going with them would solve the problem of a chaperon, but to do so would certainly give the tabbies something to talk about; it would be tantamount to telling the world she approved of Lord Wincote and sanctioned his pursuit of her stepdaughter. And all that without the Duke having met the man. She could not take so much on her own shoulders.
‘Thank you, but I am otherwise engaged this afternoon,’ she said. ‘And I need Lady Lavinia’s company. Perhaps another time.’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘It was only a whim to ask her ladyship to be the first to try the phaeton. It is the latest model.’
‘A phaeton?’ Lavinia queried. ‘Is it a high-perch one like James’s?’
‘No, my lady, it is more modest than that and safer. Perhaps tomorrow?’
‘Fie, my lord!’ she said. ‘You will have the tattlemongers commenting on the frequency of your visits.’
He bowed. ‘I would not wish to make your ladyship the subject of gossip.’
‘But call tomorrow, by all means,’ she went on. ‘Indeed, I wish you would.’ His look
