I had hardly seen him, or Lady Clara, since my recovery. Lady Clara was out of the house at all hours. At first I could not understand why, and then Emily let slip some gossip from the servants’ hall. Lady Clara was running all around town trying to keep the lid on scandal about her daughter Maria. Only months into marriage Maria was humping her piano tutor, and if Lady Clara did not buy the man off and silence Maria’s complaints, and scotch the rumour fast, it would reach the ears of the hapless husband; and Basil was already weary of Maria’s dress bills, and her temper, and her sulks.

I knew Lady Clara well enough to know that she was not doing this for love for her daughter, nor for her respect for the holy estate. She was in mortal terror that Basil would throw Maria out, and she would be back home with the piano tutor in tow, her reputation ruined: a costly disgrace to her family.

Lady Clara said as much to me when we passed on the stairs that afternoon.

‘I am glad to see you up, dear,’ she said. ‘And glad to see you are well enough to dine downstairs. Perry is home from Newmarket tomorrow, is he not?’

‘Yes,’ I said. I hesitated, my hand on the cold metal banister. ‘You look tired, Lady Clara.’

She made a little face. ‘I am,’ she said. ‘But I have to go out at once to Maria. Basil is coming home to dine this evening and I dare not let the two of them be alone together. Maria has such a sharp tongue she’ll goad him, I know it. There are enough people who would tell him what has been going on if he were willing to hear it. I shall have to be a peace-maker.’

I looked at her coolly. ‘You specialize in profitable marriage-making,’ I said. ‘But making the marriage stick is more difficult, is it not?’

She met my eyes with a gaze as hard as my own. ‘Not when it suits both parties,’ she said bluntly. ‘Maria is a fool and cannot see beyond her own passions. You are not. You have access to Perry’s fortune and to your own. You are welcome to live in the country, in the town, or on the moon for all I care. You wanted to be launched into society and I did that for you. I will sponsor you at Court, your child will be the biggest landowner in Sussex. You consented to your marriage Sarah, and it will serve you well. I’ll take no blame.’

I nodded. ‘I’ll learn to live with it,’ I said and my voice was hard. ‘But I did not consent.’

She shrugged. She was too wise and too clever to be drawn. ‘It will serve you well,’ she said again. ‘And anyway, now you have no choice.’