Then, because her voice had died in her throat, she turned and walked away from him towards the house.

Only, as she waited for Hannah to open the door, did she look back.

The Earl was standing where she had left him and she felt as if he grew taller and taller until his head touched the stars.

Chapter Six

“Are you all right, Thalia?”

The voice broke in on Thalia’s thoughts and she turned to look down at the young matcher who was staring at her in surprise.

“I am sorry,” she said. “Did you speak to me?”

“I’ve asked you three times if you thinks this velvet’s what you’re a-wantin’ for Lady Standish’s bonnet.”

With an effort Thalia forced herself to look at the piece of material that the matcher held up in her hand.

“Yes, I think that will do very well. Thank you, Emily.”

The matcher walked away and Thalia tried to remember that she must work and think about what she was doing.

It was difficult as, ever since she had awoken this morning, she had felt as if her heart was singing and she had been carried into a world where nothing seemed real and everything was dazzling with sunshine.

‘This is love,’ she had told herself, ‘and everything is different. Nothing is the same as it was before.’

Then some critical part of her mind asked her if love to the Earl meant the same as it did to her?

Because she was afraid of the answer, she could not risk depressing herself by being introspective.

The fact that she loved him presented a whole number of new problems – problems that sooner or later would have to be faced – but, just for the moment, the spectacular glory of it was all that mattered.

She had gone to bed feeling as if his kiss had carried her up to the stars and left her there suspended high above the earth where nothing frightening could encroach upon her.

‘Now I have to face reality,’ she told herself severely.

She picked up the bonnet she was working on and tried to remember how she had intended to decorate it and who it was for.

Just as she was starting to thread her needle, Mrs. Burton came hurrying from the front of the shop.

“Lord Dandish is here,” she whispered, “with that tiresome sister of his, Lady Wentmore. Don’t forget to put ten per cent on his bill, so that he can take it off.”

This would have been an incomprehensible instruction to anyone outside the shop, but Thalia knew exactly what Mrs. Burton meant.

There were a certain number of her clients who argued about the price of everything they bought and insisted on a reduction. To those Mrs. Burton always asked more to begin with than she expected to obtain.