I could not be betrothed to one man and write like that to another. I could not break faith with Perry, I could not abandon Lady Clara without a word. They had treated me well, by their lights, I could not walk away from them as easily as I had walked in.

I would have to wait, wait and plan. I would have to get free, honourably free, before I wrote to Will, before I thought of him again.

I leaned my forehead against the cold thick glass of my window and looked at the grey sky and thought of Will riding home with the scarlet weal from my whip on his cheek. I had no right to strike him, I had no right to make a claim on him. The letters were burned, I would not write another. I would never write to Will. Not in anger, not in love. Our ways lay by different roads. Perhaps one day he would forgive me for the blow. Perhaps one day he would understand.

I rang my bell for my maid to come and dress me in my morning dress.

I could think of nothing else I could do.

33

I was ill, and it was that which made my eyes seem red and made me so dull at the luncheon.

‘You are cruel!’ lisped Sir Richard Fuller.

I looked at him blankly.

‘Cruel to one who adores you!’ he said smiling. His lips were painted a delicate pink, he had a black patch in the shape of a heart at the corner of his mouth.

‘Yes,’ I said stupidly. ‘I suppose I am.’

He gave his ringing peal of laughter and a couple of old dowagers looked around at us, saw Sir Richard and smiled indulgently.

‘A Diana! A very Diana!’ he cried out.

I shrugged. Half the time in this mannered social world I could not understand a word of what people said to me. The other half I understood well enough but I could not think why they troubled.

‘Do you think I have not seen the newspaper this morning?’ he asked teasingly. ‘I knew it was coming but oh! the blow to my hopes!’

I stared at him again. We were seated in the window seat of the princess’s parlour, looking out towards the park. Will had been right about it being cold. The hoar frost was still white in the sheltered corners, a yellow sun was harsh in the sky.

‘What are you talking about?’ I asked.

Sir Richard’s pale eyes danced with malice. ‘About my heartbreak, about my heartbreak!’ he said.

I was no good at this kind of flirting. I sighed and went to get up and walk away from him.

‘I knew you were half promised, but I had no idea he would be so speedy,’ Sir Richard twinkled, putting out a hand to detain me. ‘Have his losses really been so bad?’

‘Perry?’ I said, coming through the maze of innuendo.