“Yes, I’ll come.” Petra glanced at the clock. “What time are we meeting Fenella at Fortnum’s? It’s gone noon.”

“We should go now.” Diana stood up, reaching for her discarded cape.

“I’ll fetch my coat. Give me five minutes.” Petra hurried upstairs to the vast and ornate bedroom she shared with Guy. Although she had slept in this room many times before their marriage she had never felt totally at ease there and marriage had not changed that. She much preferred the privacy of her own sitting room and dressing room, which adjoined the bedroom. Guy had his own dressing room furnished with a comfortable bed on the opposite side of the bedroom. The bed was for those nights when the master of the house chose not to sleep with his wife, she presumed. So far that had not happened.

“I’m going out, Dottie. I need a coat,” she said as she entered the dressing room, where Dottie was ironing.

Dottie set aside her iron and fetched a dark wool coat from the armoire. “You’d best wear your boots, Miss Petra. It’s been raining.”

“Yes, thank you, Dottie.” Petra took the boots and sat down to lace them up. “Do you want to go to the WSPU meeting this evening? I’m probably going myself. I think it’s quite an important one.”

“Well, it’s not my evening off,” the girl said, holding up the coat for Petra.

“Oh, take it anyway,” Petra said, pushing her arms into the sleeves. “I won’t be here and it’s all in a good cause if you want to go.”

“Then I daresay I’ll be there, thank you, Miss Petra.”

Petra nodded. “That’s settled. I’ll be back after lunch.” She hurried downstairs to where Diana was waiting in the hall.

As she reached the hall Guy emerged from the library with a young man, impeccably dressed in morning attire, on his heels. “If you would just read these papers on the matter, my lord, I’m sure you’d be interested in bringing it up in the Lords. I could write you a speech this afternoon for you to present this evening.”

Guy sighed. “Yes, yes, Freddie, dear boy, write the speech and I’ll consider delivering it sometime in the next week or two. Right now, I’m already running late for a lunch meeting.” He paused as he saw Diana.

“Diana, my dear, how lovely to see you. How are you?” He brushed her cheek with his lips before turning to Petra, who jumped down the last step into the hall. “Are you two going out for lunch? Can I give you a lift?”

“Depends where you’re going,” Petra said, reaching up to kiss him. “We’re going to meet Fenella at Fortnum’s.”

“I’m going to Westminster, but I’ll drop you off in Piccadilly.” He shrugged into the coat that Babbit held for him.