She gave me a tight little smile at that. ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘Make your curtsey to the princess as you go out. You are going to her luncheon tomorrow.’

‘Yes ‘m,’ I said in imitation of Emily’s servitude. ‘Thank’ee ‘m.’

Lady Clara’s eyes narrowed, but she leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. I smiled at her, my clear showground smile and then made for the door. Perry was swaying slightly on his feet, his eyes glazed, a glass in his hand.

‘Time to go,’ I said tightly. Perry nodded. We paused for a moment by the princess to bid her good evening. She exclaimed over my cropped head and my paleness and said I must promise to come to her luncheon tomorrow and eat some good Russian food. And now I was a wife too! How had that been?

‘Private,’ Perry said owlishly. ‘’Stremely private.’

The princess’s sharp little eyes were bright with curiosity. ‘So I had heard!’ she said. ‘Was only your family there?’

‘’Stremely private!’ Perry said again.

The princess looked to me, she was waiting for an answer.

‘It was during my illness, your highness,’ I said. ‘A quiet ceremony, at home. We were anxious to be married and we foresaw a long illness.’

Perry made his bow. ‘’Stremely private indeed,’ he said helpfully.

The footman mercifully opened the door and I put my hand on Perry’s arm and pinched him hard to get him out.

‘You drunken doddypoll, Perry!’ I said irritably. ‘I wish to God you’d stay sober!’

‘Oh, don’t scold, Sarah!’ he said, feckless as a child. ‘I had enough of that with you and Mama at dinner. Don’t scold me, I can’t bear it. Be nice, and I’ll see you home.’

I took his arm and we went downstairs, he was steady enough on his feet.

‘You need not,’ I said. ‘You can go straight to your club if you will promise me that you’ll come away if you start losing.’

‘Yes, I promise,’ Perry said carelessly. ‘I’ll come away if I lose and I’ll only drink another glass or two. And tomorrow Sarah, if you’re well, we can go riding in the park together.’

‘I’d like that,’ I said. The link boy outside the house waved for our carriage and it came up. Perry helped me in and kissed me on the hand. His lips were wet. Unseen, I wiped my hand on the cushions of the chaise.

‘Call me tomorrow morning,’ he said, ‘’bout ten.’

‘All right,’ I said. ‘Good-night.’

I watched him as the carriage drew away from the brightly lit doorway. The petulant rosebud mouth, the mass of golden curls, his downcast blue eyes. He was exactly the same young man as he had been on the London road that day, who was too drunk to find his home.