‘You’ve saved the day, Mama,’ Olivia said, not for the first time, as the evening wore on. ‘Mr Spears is besotted with you. Dance with him one more time and arrange a definite time for him to come to the parsonage and view my paintings. Don’t promise to be there unless he absolutely insists. Your presence would be too distracting.’

‘I’m full of food, Livvy, and my feet are aching,’ Kerensa protested. She was also a little lightheaded. For the purposes of the occasion, she had forsaken her Methodist origins and had drunk the two glasses of wine George Spears had pressed on her.

Kerensa was sitting with Rachael. She had retreated to her side during the moments she had been able to tear herself away from George Spears.

‘Don’t make such faces, Olivia, dear. You’ll give yourself wrinkles,’ Rachael chastised.

‘You should take a rest yourself, Livvy,’ Kerensa said, peering through the dancers for a sign of Oliver. After supper he had excused himself to go to the games room. She wasn’t sure what his mood was, he had put on a starkly contrasting choice of them all evening. ‘The first few weeks are the most likely for anything unfortunate to happen.’

‘If you mean miscarriage then why not just say so,’ Olivia returned airily, thinking such a happening would prove a blessing in disguise. When her mother still made no move in George Spears’s direction, she went on tetchily, ‘Are you going home with Father?’

‘Olivia, please don’t get difficult,’ Kerensa answered tightly.

‘Oh, the answer is no then. I thought – I’m sorry, Mama. Excuse me, I’ll go and rescue Timothy from the hateful Sarah Harrt.’ Olivia didn’t want to think about the tragedy of her parents’ rift. She could think of nothing she could do about it.

Rachael gave her friend a sympathetic glance but said nothing. It was plain Kerensa wanted Oliver back and her marriage to be as strong as before. It was also plain that she and Clem Trenchard were meeting in her little hideaway.

Sir William approached Oliver where he had just resigned from a card table. ‘No good fortune tonight, eh?’

‘What? Oh, I had no concentration.’ Suddenly weary and impatient, Oliver signalled to a footman for a drink. ‘What do you want with me, William? You’ve made yourself poor company these last few weeks. Damn disloyal, I call that.’

‘It’s been difficult, Oliver, with Kerensa spending so much time with us.’ William bobbed about like a pecking bird. ‘I thought all would be resolved posthaste. I did not want to become involved with taking sides.’

‘I would not think you so immature. I want her back, plain and simple! But not until she gets that bastard out of her head.’

‘You’d let horrid old-fashioned jealousy destroy your marriage? You shock me, Oliver. I never took you for a fool.’ Oliver finished the brandy brought to him.