‘James!’ I said. He was the first friendly face I had seen in a parlour in all the long stay in London.

He jumped to his feet as I came in the room and beamed at me. I glanced from him to Lady Maria and Lady Havering. I imagined he had been thoroughly uncomfortable with the two of them and I wished I had been home earlier.

‘How good to see you!’ I said, and then I curtseyed to Lady Havering and did an awkward sort of bob at Maria before I sat down. The parlourmaid came in and poured me a dish of tea.

James said how well I looked, and Lady Havering said something about town polish. I saw Maria look very much as if she would have liked to say something cat-witted.

‘And have you made many friends? Is London as fine as you expected?’ James asked, making heavy weather of it all.

‘Yes,’ I said, not very helpfully.

‘Such sweet friends as you have,’ Maria chimed in. ‘You were driving with Lady Jane Whitley, were you not?’

I nodded in silence. James looked glad that Maria had volunteered something.

‘Is she one of your especial friends?’ he asked. ‘I am glad you have found someone you agree with.’

‘Oh she’s quite the toast of the Season!’ Maria enthused, her eyes sharp with malice watching me. ‘She and Miss Lacey together are quite the beauties of the Season this year. Miss Lacey has been claimed by our Peregrine of course, but I’m certain Lady Jane will be snapped up in a moment.’

I thought of Jane and me driving round and round the park trying to find her a partner and I smiled grimly at Maria.

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘We cannot all hope to have your good fortune in finding a husband who is so peculiarly appropriate.’

Since Maria’s Basil was fat and fifty-five I thought that would do. Lady Clara thought so too, for she interrupted before Maria could reply.

‘Mr Fortescue has some business to discuss with you, Sarah,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you would like to talk with him in the dining room?’

James rose to his feet with uncivil haste.

‘Thank you,’ he said, and I led him downstairs to the ornate room with the heavy round table and the high-backed chairs.

He pulled one out and sat down, clasping his hands before him. ‘Are you happy, Sarah?’ he asked. ‘Is it the life you wanted?’

The tightness in my throat had not eased despite coming in from the cold. ‘It’s well enough,’ I said. ‘It’s a style I’d have had to learn.’