Louisa had opened her portfolio and took out a series of anatomical drawings which she held up for Guy to examine. “As you can see, Lord Ashton, when the top laces are drawn tight the woman’s breast is pushed up and forced outward and the ribs are compressed, crushed, you might say. As the lower laces are tightened the internal organs including the lungs are also compressed, the stomach is displaced, pushed above the waistline, as is the liver, as this drawing illustrates. This leads to the digestive distress from which many women suffer. In addition, with the lungs compressed, breathing becomes shallow and the S-curve causes the spine to become misaligned, which results in pain and crippling displacement in later life. As you can see from this drawing.”

Guy listened to this matter-of-fact explanation and looked at the illustrations as they were proffered without a flicker of expression as Petra struggled to catch her breath with Rachel’s final tightening of the laces. Then he took a sip of whisky and stood up, going to the armoire, opening it and after a moment’s thought selecting an evening gown of deep red taffeta. “If you would be so good as to help Lady Ashton with this gown, Mrs. Young.”

Petra could think of nothing to say and it wasn’t for either of her companions to comment on his lordship’s response to the demonstration. She submitted to Rachel’s assistance with the evening gown, still struggling with the discomfort of the corset, wondering what her next move should be.

When Rachel stood back, having fastened the last tiny button on the gown, Guy said with cool courtesy, “Thank you for your time, ladies. Allow me to show you out.” He opened the dressing room door with a bow.

Rachel and Louisa had no choice but to accept their dismissal and with a murmur of farewell to Petra left the dressing room. In the hall beyond Guy summoned a hovering footman. “Escort the ladies to the door, please, and hail a cab for them. I give you good afternoon, Dr. Garret Anderson, Mrs. Young.” He bowed punctiliously, then turned on his heel and went back into the dressing room.

“I’m not at all sure what that little demonstration was intended to achieve, my dear Petra,” he remarked, closing the door behind him. “But it gives me the opportunity to demonstrate something of my own. Come to the mirror.” He took her waist and turned her to face the long pier glass. “Look at you, how graceful and elegant you are.” He turned her sideways to show her profile. “Don’t tell me you can’t see the difference the corset makes. It gives you stature.”