“We’ll get a cab outside and be in Berkeley Square in no time.” Once again he eased her forward with a hand in the small of her back, steering her through the crowds.

A line of cabs waited on the station approach and they took the first one, an open two-seater, and by the time they turned onto Berkeley Square the post lovemaking lethargy had vanished and Petra was conscious of a restless excitement, a need to make decisions and plans without delay. Weddings could take months and months to plan, but now that the die was cast she could see nothing to be gained from waiting months to become Lady Ashton.

Babbit greeted them with some surprise. “I was not expecting you back this early, my lord. Was Mrs. Lacey’s horse successful?”

“Yes, the filly won her race,” Guy responded, handing his top hat, cane and gloves to the butler. “Could you bring tea to the library, please. And I expect Miss Rutherford would like to refresh herself after the train journey.”

“Certainly, sir. If you’d care to come with me, ma’am, I’ll send a maid to you immediately.”

Petra followed the man upstairs to a pretty bedroom at the rear of the house. She unpinned her hat and examined her pale kid gloves, which were grubby with soot. A maid came bustling in with a jug of steaming hot water, which she set by the basin on the washstand. “Here’s hot water, ma’am. And towels. I’ll take the gloves and brush them. I’ll have them clean in no time. Is there anything else I can get you?”

“No, this is fine, thank you.” Petra relinquished her gloves and poured water into the basin. She peered at her reflection in the mirror with a grimace. “Trains are so dirty. I feel as if I have a layer of soot everywhere.” She dipped a cloth in the basin and held it to her face with a little sigh of pleasure at the warm, clean feel of it. “That’s much better.”

Five minutes later, after tidying her hair and washing her hands and face, she went down to the library, wondering for a fleeting instant what it was going to feel like to be mistress of this house. And Ashton Court into the bargain. She’d only once seen the sprawling Elizabethan pile of the Ashton family seat and that had been ten years ago when she’d gone to a ball there, the ball at which Guy, for the first time, had singled her out. It seemed a very long time ago now. And she had been a very different person then, still unformed.