‘The Cairo season is on,’ said Kerridge.

‘They wouldn’t go there. There’s a cholera scare.’

In spite of the cholera scare, the Cairo season was a big success. No case of cholera had been reported since the beginning of November. Cairo had international hotels with modern luxury and sanitation, very different from the poor quarters of the city. The Delta Barrage, twenty miles from the town, was a popular place for excursions, and some point-to-point races were held there. Military bands played in all the big hotels, and there were dances and social functions every day. Lord and Lady Hadshire declared life in Cairo to be absolutely splendid and were comforted by the thought that Rose was being looked after by the duchess. They never read the newspapers, and their friends who had, did not feel it would be quite the thing to comment on their daughter’s exploits. They assumed they knew and pitied them for having such a wayward daughter. Better not to mention it, for having a daughter who had made herself unmarriageable was like – well – talking about cholera.

Rose wanted to ask Daisy what losing her virginity had been like but was constricted by the unwritten laws of society. No young lady should know anything about sex. In fact, an eminent surgeon had just declared that only sluts enjoyed the sexual act. Ladies lay back, thought of England, and suffered.

If it was all so terrible, then what was the point in any woman’s getting married and forced to endure years and years of breeding?

She and Daisy were sitting in Rose’s sitting room a few day’s before the wedding. Daisy was still being sick in the mornings, but rallied amazingly in the afternoons. Rose was stitching wedding garters and Daisy was reading a serial story in John Bull magazine.

Daisy was engrossed in the story. It was raining hard outside. The clock ticked on the mantel and a log fell in the hearth.

Rose wished with all her heart she were still working with Harry. The days seemed long and monotonous. Curiosity at last overcame her. She cleared her throat nervously. ‘Daisy?’

‘Mmm?’ Daisy reluctantly marked where she had been reading with one finger and looked up.

‘Daisy, what is it like?’

‘Getting married?’

‘No.’ Rose blushed. ‘I mean, what is it like to go to bed with a man?’

Daisy’s green eyes shone. ‘It is wonderful.’

‘But an eminent surgeon said that ladies are not supposed to enjoy the experience.’

‘Piffle. If you think I enjoyed it because I am of low class, then you are mistaken. If you love someone, then it is the most wonderful thing in the world.’

Rose sat deep in thought. Did she love Harry? He was infuriating. What if he became involved in another case with a beautiful woman? She gave a little sigh. If Harry really loved her, then he would not have found Dolores attractive at all. And would India really be so bad? She conjured up a picture of a dashing officer kneeling at her feet and proposing marriage.