‘It’s a lovely tradition,’ Lou said, ‘to go out into the woods and chose your own Christmas tree.’

Charlotte poured a cup of tea and handed it to her.

‘And you will join us this afternoon to decorate the hall, won’t you, Miss Arnold?’ Lady Mandeville said. ‘The women gather on the afternoon the tree is erected to decorate the hall and welcome Christmas into the house.’

Lou took a sip of her tea. ‘I’d be delighted. It all sounds wonderful.’

‘What sounds wonderful?’ A man’s voice said from the doorway.

‘I thought you were helping your father choose the tree,’ Lady Mandeville said.

‘I was.’ Tom entered the room and plucked a biscuit from a plate on the table. ‘But I got bored of standing around like a spare part, watching other men cut it down. So, I came back ahead of everyone else.’ He popped the biscuit into his mouth, chewing as he paused to warm his hands at the fire, before carrying on past Lou. Lips still cold from the outside, he whispered in her ear. ‘Your feet had a lucky escape last night. Don’t imagine they’ll get off so lightly on Christmas Eve.’

The tea Lou had been holding in her mouth shot down her windpipe. She began to choke.

A hand touched her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry,’ Tom said. ‘Are you all right? I didn’t mean to –’

‘Thomas!’ Lady Mandeville called. ‘Whatever have you said to upset Miss Arnold?’

Charlotte rushed to Lou’s side, and she felt Tom remove his hand. He retreated to the sofa and sat beside his mother. When Lou stopped coughing, he crossed his legs and said, ‘If booking my place on a woman’s dance card is enough to send her into a fit of apoplexy, then I stand guilty as charged.’

‘In that case, I’m not surprised Louisa is choking,’ Charlotte groaned. ‘My brother is a terrible dance partner, Louisa. Oh, his foxtrot and waltz are just about passable, but his conversation is so dull! Other men talk about the music and the splendid decorations and the beautiful gowns. Some even touch on politics. But with Tom, it’s all horses and motorcycles. If you dance with him, then I’m afraid you will die of boredom.’ She paused, and when she spoke again, it was with a tone of mischief. ‘Although I doubt anyone will get a look in with Tom this Christmas Eve, not with Cousin Emma at the ball.’

‘Charlotte!’ Lady Mandeville shot her daughter a warning glance and changed the subject to the food she had arranged for the upcoming shooting party. But it wasn’t quick enough to stop a muscle twitching in Tom’s jaw. He collected his newspaper and stood up. ‘I’ll be in the library, if anybody wants me.’

Charlotte leant in to Lou. ‘I’m not wrong,’ she said quietly, after checking that her mother wasn’t looking in their direction. ‘You’ll see that for yourself when cousins George and Emma arrive later today. George is a bore, but Emma is so interesting. She knows everybody and everything. She spends most of the year living in Lord Caxton’s house in Belgravia, and goes to all the plays and the very best parties, and is only ever seen in the very latest fashions. I’m sure you will adore her, everybody does. Which is why I can’t understand why she would be at all interested in marrying my silly brother.’