His eyes took in the room, the starlets and gentlemen dancers – and then they landed on Vivienne Edgerton. He had not seen it at first but, as they danced back across the ballroom, he realised it was Vivienne in the arms of Nathaniel. Well, he supposed, she was a guest, after all – and that was what Nathaniel was here for, to dance with guests while Raymond was indisposed. But the way Vivienne was moving? The confidence with which she stepped and turned? The way she threw herself into a spin and laughed joyfully as Nathaniel caught her? Raymond felt a plunging sensation in his stomach. She had not been capable of this that morning he tried to tutor her here in the ballroom.

No, he thought. Things had changed in his ballroom while he was away.

*

At the end of the evening, Hélène walked back through the dressing-room doors, with the band and the rest of the hotel dancers. Only Nathaniel strutted in behind her – he, the showman of the ballroom, always the last to leave, to the applause of the guests who remained.

The band were tearing off their bow ties. Evening jackets were strewn around, dancing shoes kicked off, and the other girls were tumbling through to their own dressing room ready to hit the town. Hélène followed after them, catching Louis Kildare’s eye. Kildare still wore his white jacket and waistcoat while he took the mouthpiece out of his saxophone, inspected the reed, cleaned it and stowed it away again. Then he worked at the instrument’s shine with his cuff, flashing her a toothy grin. He mouthed four words – Be patient, Miss Marchmont! – and thank goodness he did, for they had a restorative effect on Hélène. The anxiety that had been tightening every muscle in her body began to seep away. Louis could have that effect on her. It was something that he and Sidney had both shared, that simple way of shrugging off the worst of things and getting on with the business of music and dance.