“I can?”

Enid laughed. “I’ll have to call you Lady Lazender in two hours, miss.”

“Enid!”

“Of course she will!” Lady Margaret came back to join in the unnecessary twitching of perfectly draped clothes. “You’re entering the aristocracy, child, and you will find polite respect a small recompense for your responsibilities.” She stepped back again, satisfied. “You look remarkably beautiful, Campion. It’s surprising what a good dressmaker can do for a girl. You may go downstairs and meet your gentleman.”

“My gentleman?”

“Did you think you were to walk up the aisle alone?”

Campion had thought precisely that. She knew that Mordecai Lopez could not be in Oxford, a letter had arrived just two days before, and she had no relative to give her away. She had steeled herself for the lonely walk to Toby’s side. “Who is it?”

“It is hardly polite to call him ‘it.’ He’s gone to a remarkable amount of trouble to do this service for you and I’ve no doubt it’s a trial to him. The least you can do is go downstairs and be pleasant to him.” Beneath Lady Margaret’s tartness, as ever, was warmth, but Campion suspected that the older woman was hiding more emotion than usual.

The gentleman waited, one hand smoothing his small moustache, the face questing toward the sound of her feet on the stairs. “Who’s that?”

“Colonel Washington!”

He beamed, looking as proud and happy as if she were his own daughter. Over his eyes, but not hiding all of the terrible scar, was a velvet mask. He was quite blind.

She kissed him. “Colonel!”

“You remember me, my dear!” He preened himself, drawing himself up to his full height which was still an inch less than Campion. He held her hands and smiled. “It’s not too late to change your mind, my dear. I’m at your complete service.” He smiled. “I’m sure you look beautiful, you always did. I hope I don’t disgrace you.”

“You look wonderful, Colonel.” Washington was in brown velvet, the material slashed to show red beneath, while round his waist was the King’s sash. In one hand was a hugely plumed hat, while at his side, only decorative now, was his sword.

Lady Margaret came down the stairs. “Ah! Sir Andrew!”

“Sir Andrew?” Campion asked.

Washington nodded. “The King rewarded me for my blindness. A pension might have been more useful, but these days titles are cheaper.” He turned his face toward Lady Margaret. “The carriage is waiting, your Ladyship. It will return for us.”

“But not too quickly, Andrew. Toby’s had things entirely too easy. It’s time he was given a little waiting and worrying.” Lady Margaret said it as though Toby had not waited and worried while his bride was in the hands of their enemies, yet it was not that which alerted Campion. There was a hint, perhaps more, of affection in her voice. She looked from the tall woman to the short man and smiled. Lady Margaret saw the smile and sniffed. “You just hope my son is sober, child, which I very much doubt. He’s probably drunk in some tavern cellar.”