So he was giving her the chance to object to the way it was being said, but not to the announcement itself. Tenacious Darcy, under the diffident exterior.

The engagement is announced between John William Aubrey Frederick Mere, Viscount Darcy of Mere House, Mere, Glos., and Helen Jane, only daughter of …

She looked up into the stubborn light in his eyes.

‘Why now, Darcy?’

Honest as always, he made no evasion. ‘It’s Mama. If she won’t believe that I’m going to marry you, then I’m going to have to force her by making the rest of her world acknowledge it.’ He lifted the square of paper. ‘This is the first step.’

It makes no difference, Helen thought. She was suddenly too weary to do battle. The fact of our engagement exists simply between Darcy and me, just as it has done ever since Venice. It doesn’t make any difference when a whole lot of people neither of us care about read it over their breakfast coffee.

The Countess of Montcalm’s china-doll face floated into her mind’s eye, wearing its complacent smile.

Not good enough for your son? Helen asked. You aren’t intelligent enough to see it, but I’m good enough for him in every single way except the one that really matters. I can only try to love him, but I’ll be doing it better than you.

Helen rested her head against Darcy’s chest and closed her eyes. She nodded her head once.

‘I’ll ring the papers, then,’ he persevered.

‘Yes. If you think it will make any difference.’

He kissed her, finding the corner of her mouth and then following the outline with his tongue. ‘Soon,’ he said. ‘I love you. Go and do your exams. Good luck, although you don’t need it.’

Helen watched him go with the old mixture of anxiety and tenderness.

One more day.