‘Thank you, Oliver.’ He looked statesmanlike and handsome and appealingly vulnerable. She thought about the women who must surely be vying to take her place. A horrible, undesirable thought.

She felt the familiar firmness of his hand. Strong his fingers were as they folded around hers, but not warm and not affectionate. She missed that so much it took her breath away. Tonight he was unyielding, indifferent. Or was he, like her, feeling the loss of their usual intimacy and crying deep inside, while keeping restrained? This was difficult for him and it would be difficult for her. She must think only of Olivia.

He heard her nervous intake of breath. ‘Are you up to this?’

‘Yes. Shall we go in? Livvy will be wondering where you are.’

‘We have been introduced to this George Spears fellow,’ he said conversationally, ‘but were making little headway with him when I left.’

‘If necessary then we must make a fresh address,’ she answered, determination for Olivia giving her courage to see this night through.

Olivia was angling for an invitation to join Sir John’s supper table, to give her more opportunity to talk to Mr Spears. Mr Spears was relentless at talking only about himself and his works.

Timothy had been unsuccessful at bringing the subject back to Olivia’s art. He felt that the artist, who was sending suggestive glances at a lady who was fervently giving similar reply, had not the slightest interest in Olivia’s pastime. The chap probably gets this sort of thing thrust on him all the time, is sure it’s only infantile dabblings or something, Timothy thought, galled on Olivia’s behalf. He sent up a quick prayer. Help was urgently needed or Livvy wouldn’t be worth getting near to when they got home.

‘I get a lot of inspiration from the great da Vinci,’ Olivia pursued Mr Spears, trying to get him to look her way again. ‘I—’

‘Upon all that’s holy, who is this?’ George Spears suddenly broke away to stand alone and stare towards the entrance.

Olivia was struck immobile as her mother was announced. As her parents progressed towards her, looking to all the world a perfectly happy couple, she was aware of the lowered fans, the stage whispers, the titters, the embarrassed fidgeting and the smirking.

‘Mama, I’m delighted you could come.’ Olivia dashed forward to kiss her mother then, linking her arm through Kerensa’s, introduced her to her quarry.

‘Captivated, ma’am.’ George Spears gazed blatantly into Kerensa’s eyes. ‘Well, Sir Oliver, fortune rains on you indeed. May I say that you have two of the most beautiful ladies in this superlative and mysterious county. May I ask if you and your good ladies and Mr Lanyon will do me the honour of joining me at supper?’